Southern Love

by Synithia Williams

  Before he realized what she was doing, she scooted down and took him in her mouth. His skin was clean and sweet and she loved it. She tentatively sucked on the head and experienced a rush of satisfaction when he let out a low groan. Emboldened, her mouth glided up and down slowly but firmly, enjoying the way he clenched the bed. She cupped the heavy sack beneath and massaged it as she continued to take as much of him as she could in and out of her mouth.

  She was really getting into it when he pulled her up and flipped her over. He started to enter her, but stopped. He reached over the side of the bed and pulled a condom from his bag.

  He quickly put it on and before she realized it, he was entering her from behind. The unexpected thickness of him filling her swollen flesh surprised her, but her passion soon took over.

  He plunged in and out and Kenyatta cried out with each thrust. He reached between her legs to massage her, and she counted her blessings that she was about to come yet again. Malcolm beat her to it. The weight of his body as he climaxed pushed her over the edge. She came with as much intensity as before and they both collapsed onto the bed.

  Chapter 31

  After a long night of lovemaking, Kenyatta got up the next morning and went to church with Malcolm. She’d wanted the comfort of the ceremony and Malcolm suggested attending his church to avoid running into Brad.

  She should have watched church on TV. Although the swelling was down, she’d had to put on a lot of makeup to cover the bruises on her face, making her self-conscious. To top it off, Jessica was there. Apparently, both she and Malcolm were members, and there were a few curious, and some outright evil, looks thrown Kenyatta’s way.

  Kenyatta held her head high and tried to ignore the attention, but it wasn’t easy. She was happy Malcolm’s friend Devin was warm and open with her, as were the pastor and his wife after service. Yet, as much as she enjoyed the service herself, she wasn’t anxious to return for a while.

  “I’m glad that’s over,” she said when they were back in Malcolm’s SUV.

  He smiled. “I know. I should have warned you about Jessica attending. People are used to seeing me with her.”

  “They act as if I’m breaking up the family,” she joked, but the humor in her voice was forced.

  He reached over and took her hand. “Don’t. Jessica and I should have split a long time ago. It’ll just take time for everyone to get used to the idea.”

  “Your friend didn’t seem too surprised to see me.”

  Malcolm rubbed his jaw and gave her a crooked grin. “Devin and my brother always suspected I had feelings for you. They knew it was only a matter of time before I realized it myself.”

  Kenyatta was flattered and surprised. Warmth spread inside her as she realized yet again she’d been on Malcolm’s mind, as he had been on hers, over the past three years. They’d wasted so much time.

  They parked in front of her home when Malcolm’s cell phone rang. Based on his end of the conversation, she guessed it was his security company calling with bad news.

  She got out of the SUV and waited for him. It only took a few minutes for him to finish the conversation. He was running his hand over his head and cursed when he joined her.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Someone is breaking into my house. The motion detector has been triggered and the police are on the way.”

  “Oh, my God!”

  “I just hope the alarm scared them off before they took anything of value.”

  “You should go now.”

  His brow puckered, and he shook his head. “I don’t want to leave you here. Come with me.”

  Kenyatta appreciated his concern, but she was tired. They’d barely slept the night before, and all she wanted now was to wash the makeup from her face, put on some comfortable clothes and lay on the couch.

  “I’ll be okay. I doubt Brad will show up, but if he calls, I won’t answer. And if he comes by, I won’t answer the door.”

  Malcolm wasn’t pacified. “Kenyatta, I don’t trust him. I’d feel better if you were with me.”

  She smiled and reached up to touch his face. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine.” He was about to protest again when she stopped him. “Look, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go inside, change clothes, and go to my parent’s house. He won’t bother me over there.”

  He thought about that for a second before replying. “Do you promise? I really hate to leave you.”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  He searched her eyes before taking her mouth in a searing kiss. Kenyatta leaned into him and desire rose hot and fast. Memories of the night before flashed in her mind, and she clung to him. She felt his desire rise and press into her belly, and she moaned. She wanted him again!

  He slowly broke the kiss and rested his forehead on hers. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Call me the second you get to your parents’ house.”

  She nodded and kissed him again. Reluctantly she pulled away, but not before reaching between them to palm his erection.

  “Hurry back.”

  He groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

  She giggled before strolling to her door. Malcolm watched her from his car until she went in. She locked the door and turned around. Her home seemed empty without him in it. In just one day, she’d gotten used to having him around and already she missed him. She sent up a quick prayer that the thieves hadn’t had time to take anything from his home and added another prayer that he would get back soon.

  She went to the kitchen and got a glass from the cupboard. She filled it with orange juice and drank it down quickly. Frowning at the funny taste, she looked at the date on the carton. The date said it was still good, but it tasted bitter.

  She poured the rest of the orange juice in the sink and left the kitchen. After just a few steps, she felt light-headed. She braced her hand on the wall to steady herself. Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to go upstairs, but the room began to spin.

  Kenyatta sank heavily onto the bottom step, trying not to panic. Maybe she was still weak from Brad’s attack or tired because she’d spent the better part of the night having sex instead of sleeping. She touched her forehead. It was cool, but clammy with sweat.

  “God, please don’t let me get sick,” she said to herself.

  “God had nothing to do with it,” a voice came from her side.

  Chills ran down her spine as she recognized Brad’s voice. She tried to get up, but her limbs felt heavy. His thin fingers gripped her chin and turned her face to him.

  “Hello, sweetie.” He smiled at her. “We have some unfinished business to attend to.”

  Kenyatta tried to shake her head, but she became dizzy. She wanted to scream and struggle, but it took too much effort. Tears burned her eyes as she realized Brad had her completely under his control. Malcolm was right — he did not intend to give her up at all.

  “I know your rituals. Get up, go to church, come home, drink some juice.” He laughed. “You made it very easy for me to drug you, baby. It also wasn’t too hard to get rid of your … boss.” He appeared to struggle over what to call Malcolm. “It took relatively little money to hire someone to break into his house. Oh, baby, don’t cry. I promise that this will be easy. If you cooperate.”

  “Why … Brad?” she struggled to ask. Her tongue felt swollen.

  He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Because I love you, Kenyatta. I’ve loved and wanted you for too long to just give up and let him have you. So today, I’m taking what’s mine.” He reached out and cupped her breast and Kenyatta wished she had the strength to push him away.

  “I’m going to spend the day teaching you a lesson. I’m going to enjoy every minute of it, and when it’s done, I’ll make sure you won’t be useful to another man … ever.”

  “He’s … co
ming … back,” she struggled to say.

  “I know, but you won’t be here, sweetie.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, as if he were talking to a child.

  He lifted her up and carried her to the back door. The room spun wildly as bile burned the back of her throat.

  “I parked in back,” he confessed. “Couldn’t let Malcolm know he was leaving you with me. Oh, and nice try with the new lock, but you forgot that I have a key to the back door.” He laughed as he took her to his car.

  “Brad … pl-please.” She tried to struggle, but each movement sapped her strength. She didn’t know how long she could remain conscious. Everything around her was blurry and spinning out of control.

  “If you loved me … don’t.” It took every ounce of strength she had just to say that.

  Brad just chuckled and kissed her. “It’s because I love you that I have to.”

  Chapter 32

  Malcolm arrived at his house shortly after the police. Whoever had broken in was long gone by the time the police got there. They asked Malcolm if he knew anybody who would want to break in, or if he’d noticed any unusual activity lately. He answered no to both questions. His neighborhood was relatively quiet, and his house was the first and only one burglarized since he’d moved there.

  The police searched for clues as he scanned his belongings for anything missing. Evidently, the thieves didn’t get very far before the motion detector went off. Malcolm doubted they made it to the second floor. As far as he could tell, nothing was missing, and he was more annoyed about the break in than anything. It was probably some young fools looking for easy pickings.

  Forty-five minutes later, the police were leaving and the locksmith arrived. Malcolm doubted the thieves would come back, but he still changed the locks, which took another hour. He kept checking his watch and phone, waiting for Kenyatta to call. He tried not to worry when he didn’t hear from her, but he couldn’t help it. Kenyatta had always kept her word, and the fact that she hadn’t called bugged him.

  When the locksmith finally left, Malcolm called Kenyatta. When she didn’t answer, his worry turned to fear. He didn’t have her parent’s number or know where they lived. He called again and still got no answer. He hurried to his car, anxious to get back to her place.

  The twenty minutes it took to get there were the longest in his life. He pulled in the driveway and saw that her car still parked in the same spot. He hoped she’d fallen asleep. He had kept her up the night before, not that he regretted that one bit, but he was bothered she decided to stay here instead of going to her parents.

  He knocked on the door and his concern grew when she didn’t answer. He pulled out the key he’d kept to her new lock, unlocked her door and entered.

  “Kenyatta,” he called out. There was no answer, and a sinking feeling filled his stomach as dread crept over him.

  He looked in the kitchen and saw a used glass and empty orange juice carton on the counter. He ran into the living room, but she wasn’t there. He went to the hall leading to the stairway and saw one of her shoes on the floor. Picking it up, an icy fear ran through his veins as he ran up the stairs.

  “Kenyatta!” he called out, but didn’t expect to hear an answer. She wasn’t in the bedroom, the bathroom, or anywhere else.

  “That mutherfucker!” he yelled and punched the wall.

  Panic squeezed his heart. What had he done to her? Where had he taken her? He looked around wildly, not knowing what to do. He finally forced himself to calm down. He had to be rational. Panicking would not get Kenyatta back.

  He rushed back downstairs and picked up her telephone. He pressed the first speed dial number. He didn’t know who it would be, but knew it had to be someone who could give him the number for Kenyatta’s parents.

  “Hello,” a voice answered.

  Malcolm sighed with relief when he recognized her mother’s voice.

  “Hello, um, this is Malcolm. Is Kenyatta there?” He tried to keep the fear from his voice, but based on the pause, he hadn’t done a good job.

  “Malcolm, I thought she was with you. Where is she?” Adele asked warily.

  “I … I don’t know. I think Brad took her.” As soon as he said it, he wished he hadn’t.

  “Brad took her?” Her voice rose with each word. “How could you let this happen? Where is my daughter?”

  The line was silent and the next voice Malcolm heard was that of Kenyatta’s father.

  “Malcolm, what’s going on?”

  Malcolm told him everything. He didn’t interrupt as Malcolm spoke, but the tension that grew as he listened was palpable.

  “That son of a bitch,” Harold said in a harsh whisper. “Call the police. They need to be informed. I’ll get Adele to call Carol and Angie, just in case she’s with one of them.” Even as he said it, his voice revealed he doubted they would know anything.

  “Where does Brad live?” Malcolm asked.

  “He lives out in the northeast part of the county. Out in the middle of nowhere, not in a subdivision.” Harold paused as Adele said something in the background. “Adele has his address written down; she’s getting it.”

  “Good, I’ll go over there.”

  “Wait until the police get there,” Harold said.

  “No. If he has her, I need to get her back.”

  “Do you think he’s stupid enough to take her back to his house? I’d bet my life he took her somewhere else. He knows we’re going to come looking for her. Call the police and wait for us to get there.”

  “But … ”

  “I know you want to find her, but we’ve got to be smart. Call the police first. We’ll get there as soon as we can.”

  Malcolm hung up, then immediately dialed 911. He explained the situation and said he thought Kenyatta’s ex-fiancé kidnapped her. Dispatch kept him on the line until the police arrived. Kenyatta’s parents arrived at the same time. It took a moment for everyone to settle down enough for Malcolm to explain everything again, this time to the two officers. Neither appeared concerned about Kenyatta’s disappearance until Malcolm told them about Brad’s attack.

  “Why didn’t you call the police after the attack?” Officer Quinton asked. He was a tall, well-built man who looked like he should be playing for the Carolina Panthers defensive line. His partner, a shorter, red-haired man who looked like he’d seen and heard everything, was taking notes.

  Malcolm sighed. “She refused to call the police,” he explained. “We all told her she should, but she thought it was a one-time thing. We didn’t think he’d … ” Malcolm broke off and turned away. The tightness in his chest grew. Here he was wasting time answering questions when Brad was out there doing God knows what to Kenyatta.

  His throat tightened as he thought about everything Brad could be doing to her. After denying his feelings for so long, he couldn’t believe life was so unfair to allow them to have a few days before snatching her away. He would kill Brad when he got his hands on him.

  “We never suspected Brad would do this to Kenyatta,” Adele finished for Malcolm.

  Officer Quinton nodded. “I’m sorry to upset you, but we have to ask.”

  “Are you sure she didn’t go with him?” Officer Alexander asked. “There are no signs of a struggle or break in. They could have made up.”

  Malcolm glared at the officer. “I spent the entire night with her. She wasn’t going back to him.”

  Officer Alexander wasn’t fazed. “She wouldn’t be the first woman to do that.”

  Malcolm took a step toward Officer Alexander and Harold called his name. He wanted to strangle the cop for implying Kenyatta would jump from one man to the other, and felt guilty for thinking the same thing himself in Orlando.

  “What’s the suspect’s full name?” Officer Quinton asked.

  “Brad Johnson, he’s an attorney with a p
ractice on Senate Street. His father is the fire chief,” Harold answered. He was sitting on the couch with Adele at his side. Malcolm could tell by the way they clung to each other that this was taking a toll on them.

  “The fire chief’s son?” Officer Quinton asked. He exchanged a look with Officer Alexander that made the hairs on the back on Malcolm’s neck stand up.

  Malcolm didn’t care if Brad’s dad was the fucking president; they were going to get Kenyatta back.

  “What’s that look for?” he snapped. “I don’t give a damn who his father is. We’ve got to find Kenyatta.”

  Officer Quinton hesitated. “We’re not concerned about his family.” He looked at Kenyatta’s parents before turning back to Malcolm. “Brad Johnson is also wanted for attempted murder.”

  “What?” Adele yelled, fear lacing her voice.

  Harold jumped up from the couch, and Malcolm staggered as if someone had punched him in the stomach. The situation had gone from bad to worse.

  Malcolm moved closer to Officer Quinton. “What are you talking about?”

  “Brad Johnson shot a college student yesterday morning. Apparently, the boy had been seeing a girl Brad was involved with, and Brad confronted them at the boy’s apartment. He shot the boy when he answered the door and took off with the girl. The girl’s father was on the phone with her and called the police to report what he heard. The boy woke up in the hospital early this morning and was able to tell us what happened.”

  “It can’t be true.” Adele began to cry, and Harold sat back down to console her.

  “I’m afraid it is,” Officer Quinton continued. “If Brad Johnson took your daughter, then I’m afraid she’s in more danger than we thought.”

  Malcolm felt sick as he imagined Kenyatta in Brad’s hands. He shouldn’t have left her earlier; he should’ve just taken her with him. They should have known Brad would come back. He’d promised this wasn’t over. Malcolm buried his face in his hands and was surprised to notice they were shaking. He had to find her.