by Rebel Hart
Deon nodded. “Looks like it.”
“Sans dead bodies, hopefully,” I said.
“God I fucking hope so,” Deon said before cracking open his can of soda. I watched as he took a sip with his eyes closed and seemed to enjoy it so much. “Shit. That’s good.”
I chuckled. “I’m glad. I have questions.”
He stuck out a hand and folded his fingers upward. “Bring ‘em on. Whatever you ask me, I swear I’ll be honest.”
“Are you really Connor Loche’s son?” I asked.
Deon looked frustrated as he nodded. “Unfortunately. My mom met him through her job and got pregnant before she realized he was a snake.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because your dad worked for him, and you were upset about the move and everything. I was afraid that, if you knew my dad was the one that forced your family to move to Postings, you’d take it out on me.” He took another sip of the soda. “And you were so cute. I didn’t want you to do that.”
“Points for flattery,” I said, and he chuckled. “Obviously, after a year or two, it wouldn’t have mattered. Why didn’t you say something then?”
“I don’t know. I was pretty much trying to pretend like he didn’t exist. You and my mom were my life, and I was happy to keep it that way.”
That made sense, even if I wished I’d known the truth back then. If I’d gone into everything while knowing that Nathan was Deon’s brother, I never would have given him the time of day. “You know that if I’d known…”
Deon held up a hand. “You don’t even have to explain. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was shocked, I’ll admit it, when I finally got out and saw that you were with him, but I didn’t blame you for that.”
We took a little break in the conversation to eat some of our sandwiches and chips, and then I asked the next question. “What’s up with that girl?” I asked. “Annika?”
He smiled. “She’s just a friend,” he replied, and I scoffed.
“You promised to be honest.”
“I am being honest,” he responded.
“When I first saw you two, she was sucking your face off.” I glared at him, unamused as he laughed.
“A little jealous, are we?” Deon asked, then pulled his phone out of his pocket. He navigated to a number and then pressed the button to video chat with her. She answered, smiling brightly when she saw Deon. “Hey, Annika.”
“Oh, hey! Your best friend is losing his shit. You should probably call him. He thinks you died,” she replied.
“Do you think you can let him know I’m okay?” Deon turned the camera, bringing me into the frame. “I’m a little busy.”
Despite what I was expecting, Annika developed a bright smile on her face. “Hey! It’s Cherri! Is this a date?”
“It is,” Deon replied. “Our picnic we were robbed of four years ago.”
Annika cooed. “How romantic. Actually.” She shifted the camera a little bit and revealed the head of a man asleep in her lap. “Looks like they both got a little jealous.”
“Nice,” Deon responded, and it all clicked into place. They became friends with benefits to make their true interests jealous. I did not enjoy knowing that I’d been baited, but regardless, it made me feel better. “Well, you two have fun. Please tell Sicily I’m fine. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
She giggled. “You two have fun too. Oh, Cherri?”
“Yeah?” I said.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you.” She rolled her eyes. “I guess I kind of care about this big idiot.”
“No worries. I get it,” I replied.
“Bye, Annika,” Deon said and then ended the call. He shoved his phone away and looked back at me. “Feel better?”
“Yeah,” I responded, slightly embarrassed but also unbelievably happy.
“Next question?” Deon prompted, finishing his sandwich and pushing his chips off to the side.
“Just one more. The big one,” I said. “Why did you go to prison?”
He nodded. “Ah. Right. We never got the chance to talk about it.” He looked into my eyes. “After that cop caught us, it was clear he was gonna try and stick us with that body. I had no idea how that was going to unfold, but needless to say, I knew what it looked like for a couple of kids from the hood standing over a dead body in South Postings.”
“Yeah. Not good,” Cherri said.
“When I sent you off to head home, I circled back and let myself get caught by the cop.”
My whole body vibrated with shock. “What? Why?”
“He needed someone to blame,” Deon said, “and I didn’t want it to be you.”
I brought my hands up to my mouth and covered it. “You…took the fall? To protect me?”
“I didn’t want that shit ruining your future, Cherri. You were so much smarter than me, and nicer, and more promising. If it was going to be one of us, it needed to be me. Once I was in custody, I told him you had nothing to do with it and pled guilty so it didn’t go to trial. My mom used Connor’s child support money to hire me a good lawyer, so he was able to get me pled down to four years, and that was that.”
“Oh my god.”
What came over my body at that moment, I wasn’t sure, but I shoved all of the food aside, crawled over the center console, and threw myself on Deon. He caught me and pulled me close to him just as my lips found his. There was thankfully enough room to maneuver in my car because, after all the time that we’d spent floating around the subject, attaching ourselves to one another finally, without anything standing in our way, there was no way we were going to stop now. Deon’s large hands were cool as they slipped under my shirt and up my back, and I pushed my tongue forward to swirl along with his inside his mouth. My hands clawed at his shirt, dragging it down over his shoulders and off. I imagined how prepared I was the first time he came over, and I thought about how much of a departure we’d had from that day, but somehow, where we were felt like a more appropriate culmination.
Deon’s hands continued to pull my shirt upward, and I took over, lifting it over my head and tossing it to the back seat with not enough brainpower to consider the fact that we could technically be seen. I’d wanted Deon too long to care. He used a hand to pop open the front clasp of my bra and dropped it down. Then he pulled himself against me and latched his mouth over one of my breasts, overly sensitive from the cold outside and the heat inside. I threw my head back and moaned, and the heat burning up inside my body was almost too hot. I couldn’t control it. It was like a wildfire, and Deon was the only thing that could put it out.
My hands dropped to the button of my pants to undo them before going to Deon’s to undo his. In any other circumstance, I’d want more foreplay or something to ease us in, but it felt like I was literally engulfed in flames, and I knew getting Deon inside of me was the only thing that would ease the pain. Deon’s hands entangled with mine as we shifted and moved to get our pants down. I grabbed his hard member, lined it up with my entrance, and dropped down on it in one fell swoop.
“Fuck!” we screamed at the same time.
I started to move, but Deon grabbed my hips and stopped me. “What?” I asked, struggling to catch my breath.
“Just give me a fucking second, or I’m gonna bust, like, right away,” he replied.
“I know what you mean,” I said.
Deon took several breaths in and out, kissing along my collarbone and breasts as he did. Finally, his grip on my hips loosened, though his hands stayed firm, and I started to lift myself up and down.
He hissed. “Slow, baby. Slow. I don’t wanna go too fast.”
I put my hands on his face and looked down into his eyes. “You don’t have to worry. This isn’t the last time.”
He looked back at me, briefly shocked like that hadn’t registered in his mind, but when it did become clear to him, he thrust up into me, sending my head back and making my entire lower half tingle. I moved down, and he moved up to meet me, and every time our bodies collided wit
h one another, it felt so good that I thought I was going to pass out. Deon fit into me so well, reaching so deeply that it extended well past the physical. This moved me in a way I didn’t think possible. My heart filled more and more every time Deon moaned, and I kept my eyes on him, almost afraid that I’d look down and see it wasn’t him again.
But it was.
It was Deon. It was his arms wrapped around me. It was his lips on my skin, connected to me in the most intimate way we could be. The fuse that had lit the second I crawled across to him finally reached the bomb it was burning toward.
“Deon!” I yelled out as an orgasm gripped me at my core and tried to drag me in several different directions.
“Ah! Fuck!” He stuttered below me in short, jolted movements, and I could feel the warmth of his seed filling me up. “Fuck,” he hissed. “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “I’m on birth control,” I managed to get out between breaths.
He buried his head against my chest. “Thank god. We have no room for that problem on our lists right now.”
I started to laugh, and he joined me. It felt like the weight of ten million planets had been lifted off of my shoulders.
30
Deon
How many times had I dreamed of holding a naked Cherri in my arms? Her head on my chest, my fingers in her hair. Basking in the afterglow of passionate lovemaking that was even better than I ever dreamed it would be?
A million times, at least.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Cherri said quietly, kicking her feet up on the dashboard of the car.
“Uh, sorry for what?” I asked, concerned.
“Our first time wasn’t supposed to be in a car,” she grumbled.
I laughed. “You know, it’s funny. I always kind of thought it would be.”
She tilted her head back so she could look up at me. “Really?”
“Yeah. We both lived in such small houses with other people in them. Your parents would never let you into my house when my mom wasn’t home, so I guess I just assumed, when we were ready, we’d be one of those cliche makeout-point couples.”
She smiled. “Huh. I guess I never really thought about it, but it’s true.” Then she kissed my chin. “Did you think about this stuff a lot when you were locked up?”
“You are literally all I thought about. Getting back to you. Dating. Fucking. Traveling. Fucking some more.”
“Yes, good,” Cherri said.
“I thought about how I’d propose to you and where we’d live. Pets. Kids. Everything.”
Cherri’s smile got even bigger. “I can’t wait to see how it all turns out.”
I hugged her even closer to me. “I know. Me too.” Suddenly, I wished I could talk to Venom. I wanted to tell him that I’d done it. I’d made it back to my girl. “You know, I actually let the guys inside think that we were a little more than we were. So I’m not a liar anymore.”
“Fantastic,” Cherri replied. “Glad to be of service.” She rubbed her hands along my stomach, and even such a simple touch lit me on fire. “Can you tell me more about your life there? Was it awful?”
“I mean, prison isn’t great, but all things considered, I did okay. Believe it or not, I had a better go of it at the adult prison than in juvie. Juvie was a little bit nicer, and when my mom came to visit, we could actually hug and talk and stuff. At the adult prison, I could only talk to her through glass.”
Cherri sighed. “Maybe it is better that I didn’t know. I can’t imagine being able to see you and not touch you.”
For a minute, I imagined how things might have been if Cherri did know. Part of me felt like it might have been easier seeing her from time to time, but the rest of me wouldn’t have forgiven myself for dragging her into that dark world. Even if she was just viewing it from the outside, I knew from the way my mom’s eyes got wearier and wearier with each visit that having to talk to someone you loved from the other side of a divider eventually wears on you. She still wasn’t righted, and I’d been out for almost four months now.
“It’s better,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved seeing you, but I wouldn’t have liked knowing I was exposing you to that.”
“I’m not some fragile fucking princess,” she growled, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s just good to know that the more time we spend together, the more you’re returning to your old, sailor-mouth, one-of-the-boys self.”
She snickered. “I guess I have gotten a little prim and proper since you left.”
“A little?”
She gave my stomach a little punch. “Are you saying there’s a problem?”
I thought about some of the outfits I’d seen Cherri in already that I don’t know if she ever would have worn were it not for the influence of The Royal Court. “Nope. I just like knowing that you haven’t really changed, not that it matters. I love all versions of you.”
“Don’t you forget it,” Cherri quipped. “What else?”
I spent the next hour talking to Cherri about how my life was behind bars. I didn’t realize it until I was explaining it to her, but a lot of that stuff still weighed pretty heavily on me. The food was disgusting, the guards were corrupt, and the cells were small and uncomfortable. Eventually, though, I got to talking about Venom, and his goofy smile splashed across my brain again. He was the only person who really looked out for me while I was locked up, and no matter how hard I tried, I would never be able to repay him for what he did for me. He kept me out of trouble, helped me study and get ready for school, and made sure I was released on time. More than that, I never knew why he liked me so much. He freaked me out a little too much to ask, but with Venom on my side, people didn’t mess with me, and I was able to just focus on getting back to Cherri. Talking about him, I was a little afraid I’d scare Cherri, but when I looked down at her, she had a cheery glint in her eye.
“I’d like to go visit him sometime,” she said. “I have a lot to thank him for.”
“Me too,” I said. “Actually, once I’ve graduated and can get a job and shit, I’d really like to start sending him money. Just little bits. Nothing that would break me or anything. I’m never gonna be able to repay him for everything he’s done, but anything helps with commissary and stuff.”
Cherri nodded. “I think that’s a great idea. He did a lot for you, so the least we can do is pay back the favor.”
“We?” I said. “Is this it, then? We’re in this together? No looking back?”
Cherri looked up at me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’re done with back and forth and uncertainties and friends with benefits and dating brothers,” I said with a forced laugh. “It’s me and you, right?”
Cherri craned up a little so she could drag me into a kiss. “Deon Keane, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
“Cherri Goodson, are you accepting?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes.”
My arms already held her close, but I coiled around her even tighter. She didn’t seem to mind as I pulled us back into another kiss. I was floating so high that I was becoming increasingly more afraid that I was dreaming. If I was, hopefully, someone killed me in my sleep. For three years of falling in love with Cherri and through four years torn apart, I’d wanted her for so long. Now I finally had her. She was mine forever, and I was never going to let her go again.
“I love you,” I said. “I love you so much.”
Cherri’s already brilliant smile and sparkling eyes doubled in beauty. “I love you too.”
“I think,” I said, “that we should have more sex in this car.”
Cherri giggled. “I think that’s a marvelous idea.”
She shifted until she was straddling me again, giving me that picturesque view of her bare torso, the night sky forming a perfect blackened blanket behind her. I smoothed my hands up over her stomach and cupped her breasts, and she rolled her hips forward.
“You’re a breast man, I think,”
she joked.
“So I’m learning,” I said. “When such a beautiful pair are presented to you, what else can you do?”
“Are you saying my ass isn’t beautiful?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and grinding herself down on my already hardening shaft.
“Cherri, every fucking thing about you is beautiful.”
She winked at me, and I almost came on the spot. “Good answer.”
She reached behind herself and started to grab at me when, all of a sudden, my phone rang. My fist flew out and bashed against the door. “I don’t know who is on the other end of that call, but I hate them.”
Cherri chuckled, fished my phone out from my jeans pocket, and peeked at the screen. “Oh. It’s your mom.”
“Ugh. I don’t hate my mom.” I reached out, and Cherri handed me the phone. Even though she’d stopped moving, that didn’t make her any less of a distraction as I answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Deon!” My mom’s voice was frantic, and she was clearly crying. “Where are you?”
“Mom! What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Cherri’s expression turned to concern in an instant as I spoke. “What’s going on?”
“Baby, tell me it’s not true what they’re saying about you,” she whined. “Tell me you didn’t do it.”
“Do what? Mom!”
“It’s all over the news, Deon!” She sniffled. “They’re saying you killed a teacher by pushing her from the fourth floor of your school.”
My heart dropped into my stomach. “Oh, fuck!”
31
Cherri
Deon and I stared in horror at the news stories and articles that filled both of our timelines. Every social media site, every major news outlet, and anything that could carry a headline had Deon’s mugshot plastered above a statement that he’d pushed Miss Abrams from her fourth-floor classroom. There were quotes from students and staff confirming the story, including people that I knew for a fact were not in the building when Deon and Miss Abrams had their little issue. Deon had explained what happened to me in great detail when he called me the day that it happened, and it was just occurring to me that we didn’t have a chance to talk about what Nathan had told me about her and why I’d asked Sicily to bug the classroom. No matter which way I looked at it, it was my fault that Deon was in there, and now he was being blamed for her murder.
