by Amarie Avant
“Raven, we tested your grandmother Annette, and his brother, Oscar Shaw. They’re not a match. With your consent, we would like to test you,” the doctor said. He thoroughly explained how painful donor extraction was. “I’m checking daily on a database system for donors. It would be best if we were permitted to test any direct offspring of your grandfather…”
With pursed lips, she thought how could Charlene be so selfish? Being “abandoned,” as Elise had mentioned, began to sink into Raven’s mindset.
Later that evening, as Raven and Liam stood alone in the living room, she said, “I’m going to find my mother.”
“When? How?” Liam noticed a fresh look of determination on her face, which unsettled him.
“This weekend. I still haven’t finished paying for my prom dress. I’ll use that money–”
“And go where?” He didn’t want Raven to go. In some instances, knowledge was equivalent to pain, and he always felt her pain.
As if knowing Liam would be the voice of reason, Raven said, “Thanks for helping me through…all of this today, but I have to come up with a plan. You should probably go home.”
“No can do. You are not allowed to push me away.” Pulling up her chin to look her in the eyes, Liam asked, “I know you like the back of my hand. If you’re as reckless and crazy as you were as a kid, then you already have it set in that little pea brain of yours. Tell me your plan.” When Raven gave no sign of complying, he added, “Or should I call Granny?”
“You wouldn’t!” Raven folded her arms.
“I would,” Liam pulled his cell phone out of the pocket in his leather jacket and held it over her head.
On her tippy toes, Raven tried to grab the phone, but he held it just out of reach. Frowning in defeat, she said, “Okay! Olivia’s Safe Haven, an orphanage in Iowa. I don’t know how my mother got there, but I found a baby Bible with my name in it and that location. I’ll start there.” Raven felt shorter by the minute. Does he think I’m crazy? Or am I just grasping at straws? She had no idea where to begin, but it certainly wouldn’t start in Bellwood.
“Can’t you just wait for the DNA test with Alvin? If he’s your father and we can prove it, maybe he’ll be more helpful. He might know where Charlene is. Then we can call and tell her about Otis.”
“No. If he doesn’t want to claim me as his child, to hell with him! I’m leaving this weekend. When I find Charlene, her ass is getting dragged back here, if need be. She’s going to get tested for a match.” Raven sunk into the couch.
“What about those final projects you’re working on? You won’t graduate without completing them.”
She rolled her eyes at his valid point. The way he stood there, challenging her, annoyed Raven enough to retort without thinking. “The weekend after that.”
“Prom weekend?” His eyebrow arched. “Annette’s going to know you’re gone. Won’t she be with you all day? I thought it was a female ritual, where you spend all day trying to get pretty?”
He was correct once more. Right now the prom didn’t seem all that important, but Raven relented. “Okay. The following Saturday. So stop testing me. I’m going!”
“I’m going with you.”
There was something calming about completing major reports that have an impact on graduation. Raven had just turned in her projects. Maybe not perfect “A” work, but she’d handed them over on time, which was all that mattered. She loved when Liam picked her up from school on his motorcycle. Raven was the center of attention–the center of his world. Yesterday, she’d found out she wasn’t a donor match for Otis after a full week of anxiously waiting.
Adrenaline was still rushing through Raven’s body as the motorcycle stopped in front of her home that evening. Getting off the bike, Raven felt invigorated, mind cleared. She didn’t have to think about being abandoned by Charlene or the way Chris had made her feel or Otis’s fight with leukemia, or how Granny tried to hide her grief when she was home–if she came home.
Taking Liam's hand in hers, she led him into the house. As she started for the stairs, he stopped.
Her eyebrow rose.
“You're trying to have me executed,” he half-joked, though there was truth in it.
“Annette didn’t come home last night. She might stay at the hospital again.” Raven tugged his hand, but Liam didn’t budge. If anyone should ever doubt the boy went to France and lost his Southern charm, they’d be astounded by this teenage reluctance to bed her under her own home, given the opportunity.
“I'll allow you to take me upstairs, Raven,” he consented. “Try something. I'm telling.”
She chuckled, feeling his gaze skim over her ass. Voice husky with desire she joshed, “If you don't wanna be taken against your will, keep your eyes up.”
“Good advice, albeit exactly what I'm currently doing. And may I add, I've traveled far and wide in my life, but the current sight is fucking amazing.”
She rounded the landing, eyes narrowed though smiling. “I'll tell Granny you're cussing.”
“Will you?” His voice had lowered somewhat as they walked into her room. Before she could sashay to her bed, Liam's hand scoured across her abdomen, pulling her to him. He pinned her to the wall.
“I need a stepping stool down here,” she joked. Yet he knew something wasn't quite right. Not between the two. No, their love had become invincible. With the sickness of her grandfather, there was no way on God’s green earth that Liam would leave Raven after high school. He'd gotten into Pierre and George’s alma mater, and even his dad's, here in the States.
She was like his rare pearl, to be cherished, kept safe.
“Everything will be okay, Raven,” he murmured, warm breath whispering across her forehead.
Raven glanced upward, eyes glossy. The melancholy look always broke his heart more than she'd ever know. She stood up on her toes, high as she could. Liam bent his head down and claimed her giving mouth as his own.
The warmth of his hands against her ribs made her moan against him. Liam again murmured promises to her.
With her legs around his waist, he carried her to the bed. A bed he'd grown up playing on as Annette or Otis popped their head in every once in a while. He'd been the only boy allowed in her room.
Liam had already taken her innocence, yet a bit of purity still resided here. And he'd own that too, this evening.
His hand touched her chest, applying just enough pressure for Raven to lie back on the cloud of pillows. Her heart drummed wildly into his palm, giving him a newfound delight. Though they'd had sex every time they'd crossed paths since the museum in Raleigh, there was still so much Raven had to learn. Yet her turquoise eyes sparkled as if ready for anything.
He tugged down her pants, knuckles skimming over the contours of her hips as he traveled downward. Raven leaned up, nibbling softly on his neck, and his cock became harder than he ever thought was possible. Liam scooted down in the bed.
“What are you doing?” Raven clamped her knees shut.
As his thumb caressed softly over her left knee, Liam felt her leg begin to tremor. “Open up, Re.”
“Come here,” she gasped, that gaze ever-confused. “I want you so badly, Liam. Come to me.”
He chuckled as Raven became her usual impatient self. “Open up,” he repeated again, more assertive.
Their eyes connected, and it seemed her pupils dilated so swiftly they just might pop. “Oh…” The rest of her words were inaudible as her legs parted. Before his eyes was the most beautiful sight, a rose, blossoming for him. Each silky pink petal softly sprinkled with desire. His thumb pressed softly between her slit, not inserted but caressing, teasing, coaxing her nectar.
“Fuck,” Raven gasped. “Liam, I need you!”
He chuckled and then reached down in order for his tongue to twirl around her soft bulb. His moan vibrated into her skin, making her wetter. Removing his thumb, in its place, his tongue surged along the sides of her lips before the tip of it sunk into her core.
“Liam,
” her voice peeled through the air as he licked the sweet goodness of her. In the past week, he’d stopped himself from fully feasting on her body. Today, Liam was just as attuned with her body, as her hands clamped at her sides.
“Don’t tense up, baby, you taste so fucking sweet,” he murmured, breath teasing her pussy walls to continue.
Her back instinctively arched for him, opening wider, all for him. His thick, pink lips felt the quivering of her second set of lips. Lips that were silky, soft, inviting. There was delicateness to Raven’s breathing. Impatience had faded, leaving her bare, vulnerable, and aching for him.
Liam climbed back up to the headboard. His hand claimed her cheek. A questioning gasp barely escaped Raven’s lips before his crashed down onto hers. Clasping her hip, Liam’s manhood edged its way into the tight, ocean of the love of his life.
Every stroke was tender as he held her closely. The deeper he went, the more she bucked against him and moaned, to which he stole a kiss from a mouth he knew all too well. Knew and loved, every corner, every bit of saccharine that her lips offered. Raven bit her lip as his seed exploded inside of her body. This was a first, since she’d started birth control. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she felt even more connected to him.
Liam sunk onto her, all heavy weight. He started to roll onto his side, but she held him there, clung to him. Their hearts beat wildly, lying chest to chest. As her adrenaline began to fade, Raven opened her mouth to beg for him again.
“Papaya?” Liam asked, eyes dreamy.
“What?” Raven opened her eyes, giddy smile as she looked into his handsome face.
“Your hair smells so sweet, like papaya,” he said. Then they both closed their eyes.
Raven dosed off in his arms, to be awakened by her cell phone. With a glance at the screen, she was reluctant to answer Monica’s call, but Monica had taken her to get birth control and been there when Raven needed her. Trying not to feel like she’d used Monica just to go to a clinic out of town, Raven answered.
“Hey, Raven. What’re you doing? Is Liam still over there?”
“He’s on his way home.” One look at the alarm clock warned that it was later than she predicted. She promised that they would get together after school tomorrow and ended the call.
It was way past midnight, and Raven didn't want to take the chance that Annette might return.
“Wake up, baby.” Raven cajoled him awake with her melodic voice.
14
With a mental image of Annette flipping out right before his eyes, Liam stuffed his legs into jeans. Raven’s granny had always been on his side, but she’d murder in the name of the Lord on behalf of her grandchild. Raven peeped through the curtains of her bedroom as he laced his shoes.
“Granny’s not here yet, but hurry.” She seemed to float toward him as he stood up. He held her close and told her “I love you” for the first time. The words felt just right. He’d never imagined saying those words to anyone but Raven.
Laying her head on his chest, she said, “I love you, too.” It was worth it–worth all the money in the world.
Liam hurried downstairs and out the door, getting on his Ducati. Speeding down the highway, reminiscing about the first time he made love–always with Raven. He’d had sex with more girls than he desired to remember. Being the handsome, rich, star quarterback provided him with the luxury of getting what he wanted. But this was love. Raven was a different subject–a different universe.
Craving chocolate, Liam stopped at the Quickie-Mart in Brinton. In a daze, he took off his helmet in the dim parking lot. One of the street lights was out. There was only one busted-looking car in the lot. Sauntering towards the entrance, a rusty pickup truck pulled in front of him, cutting him off. He turned around to make a snide remark, and then thought against it. Nothing was going to take the smile off his face.
“What’s up, white boy?”
Guys liked to call him white boy to insult him, but it never fazed him, being Creole and French. The voice sounded familiar. Liam turned to see Chris getting out of the pickup with two other guys. They all had black bandanas sticking out of the back pocket of their jeans. Each of their faces was twisted with hate. Instinctively, he knew that he was the subject of that hatred.
The entourage made Chris look like a small boy. The bigger one was extremely tall, probably seven feet and outweighed Liam by at least forty pounds. The smaller one of Chris’s friends had to be about Liam’s size.
Liam squared his shoulders and stood tall. He wasn’t about to turn his back. The sweet tooth that was second nature to him faded as they strolled closer.
“Ready to finish what you started?” Chris asked.
“What took you so long? Is this the audience you want watching while you get your ass handed to you again?”
“C’mon now, white boy! You got that country, French-ass accent down pat.” Chris looked at his friends with a smirk on his face. They all laughed in disbelief.
“Oh, I see. They don’t know.” Liam wore a cocky smile.
The biggest one began to bum rush Liam. Liam gave a hook toward his face, but the guy moved just in time, throwing his own punch which also didn’t land. Targeting his nose, Liam landed a punch in the middle of his face. Blood trickled down his enemy’s face. That’s when Liam connected a cross punch on the side of his face, dropping him to the ground.
The second guy tried to kick Liam in the nuts. As Liam instinctively blocked it, Chris landed a jab to Liam’s cheek. Liam jabbed at the second guy’s chin, fracturing his jawbone. Though he seemed to recover much easier, Liam now focused on Chris.
From one direction, a side hook landed on Liam’s eye.
The blow was more powerful than Liam had anticipated. In fact, it was harder than all of the biggest one’s punches. He staggered back. The severe pain overpowered the raw adrenaline pumping in his veins. Seven-Footer was coming in to finish him off, but Liam caught him with a left hook. The giant went down for the count. At the same instant, Chris kneed him in the groin.
An indescribable pain pulsated throughout his body, knocked the wind out of him. Losing consciousness momentarily, Liam crumbled to his knees. His eyes began to water.
“That’s right! You bow down to me.” Chris shook his head for emphasis. He stood taller, more powerful by the minute. His eye began to swell again, but he oozed confidence as he readied his stance to kick Liam in the face.
Every nerve in Liam’s body told him to move, but the pain that rippled through Liam had him immobilized. He braced himself, and then he saw Chris being lifted off the ground.
Superman?
The sound that could only have been Chris landing hard on the concrete echoed with a thud. He looked over to see an older man holding what appeared to be a long stick, pointing it at Chris’s much larger friends.
The man, sporting a salt-and-pepper Afro and Quickie-Mart apron, came into clear view. What Liam thought was a “stick” at first, turned out to be a Mossberg pump action shotgun. The now-familiar man pointed it at the two guys, swinging it back and forth. “It’s time y’all be going,” Alvin said in his deep voice. He swung it back and forth until they backed down and helped Chris stand.
While Seven-Footer helped a stumbling Chris get into the passenger seat, the other guy hurried to the driver’s seat. The tires screeched, leaving a trail of smoke and burnt rubber.
Alvin turned toward Liam and put his shotgun down at his side. He leaned down real close. “I want my Afro pick back. It’s my favorite.” Then he straightened up, going back into the store.
Liam lay on the asphalt in the middle of the Quickie-Mart parking lot for a while, waiting for the pain to subside. It didn’t.
Taking his time, he rose and limped toward the motorcycle. He pulled Alvin’s Afro pick out of his leather Ducati backpack, since he’d already provided the hair particles to Gabby. Hobbling inside of the Quickie-Mart, a blast of air from the door pummeled his face. It was hard to tell if the cold air soothed or stung. His eyes squinted
in the brightly lit area.
Liam limped slowly toward the freezer section. He opened the door, leaned against the glass wall on the opposite side for leverage before bending down to grab one of the dusty, old, frozen bags of mixed vegetables. He transferred the plastic bag to the front of his jeans, letting the coolness sink in. With legs wide, he moved down the aisles of condiments and canned goods toward the register.
He slid the hair pick across the counter. He pulled his leather wallet from his back pocket and tossed a five spot toward Alvin, not waiting for the change. He wouldn’t dream of thanking Alvin for his help. They both knew Alvin was keeping secrets. If he was Raven’s father, they would know soon.
Liam limped out of the door cursing the day Chris was born as he heaved his left leg onto his superbike. Why didn’t I take the Chevelle today?
The next day Liam was grateful that Raven had decided to meet with Monica. Though not badly hurt, a slight bruise had begun to form on his cheek. During classes, Shawn talked about retaliating. Then a few cute girls came by their dorm room after school. With a bag of the best street tacos in town, Shawn forgot all about vengeance and became his usual lighthearted, joking self.
Shawn introduced one of the girls who sat on his lap–his flavor of the day–and then the other girl. Liam was forced to remember her name, Jessica, because she kept gawking at him like he was a scrumptious piece of cake, bruised cheek and all.
They watched YouTube comedy videos streaming through the flat screen and munched tacos. It was a mystery how Shawn was able to gobble down four carne asada tacos with the girl all over him.
Jessica kept pawing at Liam’s cheek. “I can make you feel better,” she said in Liam’s ear while attempting to sit on his lap.
Saved by his cell phone, Liam hopped up. Jessica almost fell to the floor; her cheeks flamed red as he tried to give her a hand. Then he rushed into the kitchen to take the call from Gabby. The fight last night made him forget that she was going to call today.
