by Tillie Cole
She sat down next to Cowboy on the couch. He put an arm around her and pulled her close. I saw them both hold their breath some as their brands pulled, but then they settled. Watching them did something strange to me inside. Both blond. Both blue-eyed . . . both matched in every way that I didn’t.
“I’m taking a shower,” I announced and ducked into the bathroom. It was only the middle of the afternoon, but I needed to get away. I turned on the shower and stood, watching my reflection in the mirror. I lifted my arm and ran my fingers down my skin. Skin that had caused so much fucking grief in my life. I stared at my blue eyes, a legacy from my mother. The eyes that screamed to people that I wasn’t one or the other. Not black or white, but both.
I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you, gullunge, my mamma would say to me as a kid and kiss each eye. The very best of us both.
As a bright-eyed kid I’d believed her. Then, every year, as I would be knocked further and further to the ground by words disguised as bullets, daggers disguised as fists, the compliment slowly tarnished.
And as the home I loved so much was incinerated before my eyes, taking my heroes with it into the flames, I realized it was all bullshit.
Even this club couldn’t give me the acceptance it promised. When our former prez in New Orleans died of a sudden heart attack, the VP took over. The VP who’d been the only brother to vote against me making full patch. Not Cowboy, only me. And from the minute he’d been given the gavel, I was a target. Always sent on the bad runs. The butt of all the jokes, and finally, the fucking lie that I had stolen from the club. Just like your kind to do something like that, Titus had accused. No white brother would’ve ever betrayed his brother like this.
We went nomad before the situation could even make it to church. Asshole agreed in a second. Anything to get the coon from his club and an excuse for where the money had gone. I bet that fucker told them my decision on going nomad had guilt written all over it.
Cowboy, as always, told any brother we met on the road that we left because of him. That was typical Cowboy. Having my back, every fucking time. He followed me all around the states until we found ourselves in Austin.
Titus refused any prospect trying to join the New Orleans chapter who had even an ounce of color in their skin. Caramel, brown, black . . . anything that wasn’t a shade of beaming white. Instead of fucking confronting the racist cunt, I’d just left. Thought I could get away from that shit, but just like everything else, it caught up with me anyway.
I didn’t seem to belong in any fucking world.
I stripped off my clothes. Naked, I stared at the tattoos that covered the skin I wished I never had. I belonged to no one. Had no fucking family but Cowboy.
I wasn’t black enough.
Not white enough.
Never fucking enough.
I touched the scar I would have forever. The “N” branded on me at sixteen. I was twenty-six now, and people still hadn’t fucking changed. There had been fuck-all progression.
And I was tired. So fucking exhausted with fighting their shit.
I ran my fingers down my arm again, scraping my nails along the skin. Digging further and further into the flesh until blood began to drip from the marks. I panted, wanting to shed who the fuck I was. Change into something else. Someone who wasn’t a plague on everyone he let in.
Mamma, I listed in my mind. Papa . . . Aubin . . . Sia.
The names played on repeat in my head. Circling, swarming like sharks. Biting at my fucking soul, until all that was left was the bloody corpse of the person I could have been, if things had been different. If I had been different. If people hadn’t cast me aside. Hadn’t pushed and pushed. Chipped and chipped away at me until there was nothing.
Nothing.
One word that summed me up.
My feet led me to the shower. I hung my head, letting the scalding spray batter my body. My palms pressed against the wall. I turned the water up higher and higher until it was at maximum temperature. My flat hands fisted as the water slapped like a million hands at my skin.
I pictured my parents in my head. I saw them in the attic window. Saw my mamma’s hand on the window pane. I opened my eyes, staring at my hand on the wall. The heat rose, the steam robbing me of my breath. I wondered what they felt in that moment . . . wondered what they saw as they looked at me standing on the grass, watching the fire climb higher and higher, licking at their feet.
And I wondered what had happened before I got there. I never knew how it happened. I never knew if they saw their murderers. I never knew if men in pointed hoods turned up at their door to deliver their sentence.
My body shook, unable to tolerate the temperature. I gasped and slammed the control to cool. My forehead hit the tile, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
Finally, I let myself ask the question that had always lurked in my mind, but that I’d never let myself entertain. I wondered if they thought it was worth it. Wondered if I was worth it. If having me was a regret. To the bigots who attacked them daily, it wasn’t just the fact they’d fallen in love and vowed to be everything to each other. It was the fact that they’d created me.
I was the abomination that offended the Klansmen in Louisiana so much that they bypassed the planting of the burning crosses on my parents’ land, instead setting them and their house alight, murdering their love and any happiness I dared let myself hope for one day.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood under the spray. I got out and dried myself off. I slipped on my boxer briefs and walked out of the bathroom. The curtains in Cowboy’s room were closed. I heard the sound of crying before I saw them. Cowboy was on the bed, holding Sia in his arms as she fell apart. Racking sobs poured from her mouth. She was dressed in a nightgown. Cowboy was in his boxers too. He saw me at the doorway.
“We’re exhausted. Decided to come to bed and wait for you. Thought we could catch up on sleep.” He wiped Sia’s eyes. She turned to look at me, eyes red and face mottled with sadness. “But she can’t forgive herself,” Cowboy explained. I watched as Sia’s face crumpled and she turned her head back into Cowboy’s muscled chest. Her sobs grew louder. Clara and Michelle’s families had been told they had died. Not the truth, of course. Cops had been paid off for that luxury. But at least they knew they’d gone. Funerals would be had. Loved ones could move on.
I remained frozen in the doorway. Sia was better off with Cowboy. He always knew what to say. He was good for her . . . He was meant for her. I realized that now. I ignored the slash across my chest my resolve caused.
I was about to turn and leave when Cowboy said, “Val. She needs us.”
If I was going to go anywhere, it was blown apart when Sia, head still buried in Aubin’s chest, held out her hand for me. I stared at her fingers—shaking, trembling . . . reaching for me.
Tethered to her need, I found myself walking toward the bed and climbing in beside them. I lay on the pillow and closed my eyes, exhaling when Sia wrapped her arms around me. And I held on. I wrapped my arms around her and fucking held on.
“It isn’t your fault,” I murmured. Sia cried harder. I pictured her friend in my head. A glimpse of what would have happened if Sia hadn’t gotten out. My hand moved under her nightgown to press against her scar, the remains of the acid burn that had been her original punishment. I held her so tight I worried she couldn’t breathe. My hand edged north, near the newest wound. But I stopped myself from touching it. My hand stilled. Cowboy’s hand came on top of mine. Fucker was trying to stop us both from falling apart. Or maybe he actually needed the comfort too. He was so good at taking care of me, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever truly been there for him.
Another thing I’d fucked up.
Sia’s cries drifted away until I thought she was asleep. I closed my eyes, hearing Cowboy breathing beside me. Sia had shifted until she was in between us. One hand on my chest, one on Aubin’s. The center of us both. The Sun to our fucking Earth and Moon. Then her hand shifted, and in the complete silence that had descend
ed on the room, she whispered, “Make love to me.” I held my breath. Sia didn’t move to look at either of us. “Both of you. Together. Just . . . make me feel something else but . . . this . . .” Her voice broke on the last word and took my fucking heart with it.
Cowboy was the first to move. For once he didn’t speak. I watched my best friend roll onto his elbows, looking down at Sia with an expression I hadn’t seen on his face before. That fucking look . . . it was the one I knew I wore when looking at her too.
She’d burrowed into us. Becoming a part of us, as we were to each other. There were no winks or stupid grins as he looked down at her. With his face bruised and full of healing cuts, he pushed back the hair from her face and leaned down. He kissed her. Fucking one kiss after the other, hand sliding into her hair. My heart fucking raced as I watched, Sia’s hand starting to move on my chest. Always connecting us, never one left out, a hand or a mouth always assuring the other we were all in this together.
Unable to stay away, I turned into her back and kissed the side of her neck. I closed my eyes and traveled down, avoiding her wound . . . avoiding the mockery that would stare back. Sia sobbed as my lips brushed her scarred skin. I smoothed my hand over any part my lips weren’t touching. “Perfect,” I whispered. Sia shuddered as the word escaped my lips.
I kissed up her spine until I reached her shoulder. Breaking from Aubin’s mouth, Sia turned her head, and I closed my lips around hers. She moaned into my mouth, her skin starting to heat. I felt Aubin taking down the straps of her nightgown. I moved as he brought the material off her body. Naked skin met mine. I lowered my hand and took off my own boxer briefs.
Sia rolled in my arms and looped her hands around my neck. I kissed her again, her fingertips running down my chest, making me fucking lose my damn breath. She took hold of my cock, her small hands stroking up and down. I groaned. I felt Cowboy kiss her neck and then move down her body. She gripped my neck tighter as Cowboy kissed down her spine. I looked down and saw Cowboy between her legs. I laid her on her back. Cowboy spread her wide and licked her. She clutched his hair as she let out a gasp.
I kissed along her neck, over her shoulder, and down until my tongue landed on her nipple. I teased and flicked, listening as her breath stuttered. I circled her nipple and moved my hand between her legs until I found her clit. She was hot and wet from Cowboy’s tongue. I circled her clit, covering her mouth as she cried out, back arching. I kissed her as she came, until she trembled in my arms.
My throat was tight at how much I fucking wanted this . . . needed this. How being here, like this, was fucking everything. But I couldn’t keep it. I pushed that thought from my head. It didn’t belong, right here, right now.
Cowboy kissed her thighs and continued upward. I broke from her mouth and moved south until I found myself between her legs. Sitting back on my haunches, I spread her open and ran my thumb over her clit. I groaned and leaned down, licking her pussy. My eyes closed as Sia bucked under me. I rolled my finger over her clit, and then pushed it inside her. Too sensitive from coming once already, Sia fell over the edge in minutes. She panted, stroking my head.
I sat back, my cock so hard that I needed to be in her. Cowboy gave me a condom, and I rolled it on. I climbed over Sia, her arms waiting for me. She ran her hand down my face and looked at Cowboy to whisper, “Both of you.”
The desperation in her eyes fucking destroyed me. She swallowed, and a tear fell from her eye. “Make me forget,” she demanded and then met our eyes in turn. “Make love to me.” The request carried more weight than ever before. I stilled, watching her face. A sorrowful smile pulled on her lips. She brought my fingers to her mouth and kissed them. “I love you,” she said and completely obliterated my heart. I forgot how to fucking breathe. Turning to Cowboy, she said, “I love you too.”
I crashed my mouth to hers. I took her tongue. Replaying her words over and over again . . . but a war broke out about how they made me feel. Desperation and regret fought for dominance. Before I could battle with the two, Cowboy lifted Sia on top of him. I kneeled behind her, taking her slim body in my arms. I kissed her neck, her cheek, and her mouth until her lips were swollen. Hand gently placed on her back, I lowered her down until Cowboy’s mouth was on hers. I stroked down her spine and slipped my finger between her legs. I moved through her wet pussy, and then moved my finger to her ass. Sia tensed. “We’ve got you, cher,” Cowboy whispered.
Cowboy reached into his drawer and handed me a bottle. I squeezed the lube into my hand and, kissing her neck, began to open her up with my finger. Cowboy played with her clit. Sia moaned, a long sigh slipping from her mouth. I added another finger, making sure she could take me.
When she was ready, I looked to Cowboy. Cowboy shifted, and I watched as he entered her pussy. He groaned. Sia tucked her head into the crook between his neck and shoulder. I stroked her back, wondering how the fuck I got so lucky to even have this one time with her. Before I could let myself think about anything else outside of this moment, I moved forward and started pushing into her ass. I gritted my teeth, shutting my eyes as I slipped inside. Sia cried out, her head snapping back. Cowboy turned her head slightly to the side so I could see her face. It was a picture that would be forever ingrained into my memory. Eyes fluttering closed, mouth slightly parted, cheeks flushed and back arched. “Älskling,” I whispered as I filled her to the hilt. I froze, Cowboy unmoving as I tipped my head back and just fucking felt.
I’d always had a fucking storm inside me. One that raged but never settled. I always needed to keep moving. Needed to get my mind away from thinking, because if I thought, everything became too fucking much and I couldn’t take it. But here, inside Sia, my hands on her body, the fucking storm calmed. The noises I couldn’t quiet in my head went silent. All I heard was her and me and Cowboy.
But I knew this quiet wouldn’t last.
It couldn’t. So I held onto it while I fucking had the chance.
Sia sighed, and I crawled forward, my chest flush to her back. I kissed her neck. “Älskling,” I murmured and started to move. I started slowly, moving Sia’s face until I could kiss her mouth. As her tongue rolled against mine, Cowboy moved his hips. Sia threw her head back and moaned. I braced my hands on either side of her, palms to the mattress. Cowboy held her face in his hands, watching every expression she made. His lips parted as he watched her, pure fucking adoration. I wished I could see her face too. As if he heard my thought, he tilted her head again until I could.
She was so fucking beautiful. Never seen a bitch so perfect.
I dropped my head against her neck as we moved faster. Sia alternated between kissing me and kissing Cowboy. I groaned, feeling every fucking part of this. We’d fucked bitches like this before, too many times to count. But nothing was like this. I closed my eyes, fucking letting myself savor this moment, blocking out all the dark ghosts that threatened to invade my head.
“Hush,” she murmured. “Cowboy.” Then obliterating me, she whispered, “Valan,” followed by “Aubin.”
Cowboy groaned as loud as I did as our real names fell from her lips. I worked my hips faster and faster, feeling that pressure starting to build in my legs. I pushed off Sia’s back, needing to go faster still. Cowboy guided Sia up, her back arching until she fell against my chest. I put one arm around her waist, the other around her chest. Sia’s head fell back on my shoulder. Cowboy’s hands were on her hips. His eyes were glazed, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before he came.
I rolled my hips faster, Sia’s mouth parting. One hand gripped mine, the other held Cowboy’s as his breathing became ragged. “I’m gonna come,” she whispered, her face contorting as she tensed then screamed out her release.
Cowboy growled low and came too. I worked Sia through it, then, dropping my head to her shoulder, came so hard my jaw ached from how tightly I clenched my teeth.
Sia breathed. Cowboy breathed. I breathed. Condensation dripped from the windows. Sia leaned back to kiss me. It was soft this time. I closed
my eyes, feeling everything, memorizing her taste, how her lips felt.
Then all too soon she broke away. She leaned down and kissed Cowboy. I moved back, removed the condom, and threw it away. I lay beside Sia, and she curled against my chest. I held her, feeling the after-effects of what just happened slipping away. I looked down, seeing my arm over hers. Seeing Cowboy’s over her waist. My stomach fell, knowing that I was a jigsaw piece that would never fit.
“I love you both so much,” Sia murmured, her voice dripping with sleep. My nostrils flared, and I had to work hard not to fucking break apart. I couldn’t say it back. I knew what was coming. If I said those words, I was never gonna do what I had to.
“Love you too, cher,” Cowboy said.
I paused, letting the unspoken words join theirs. I opened my mouth and whispered in Swedish, “I wish things were different.”
“That’s beautiful,” Sia said, closing her tired eyes. She wouldn’t have thought it was beautiful if she’d understood me. I felt Cowboy’s suspicious eyes on me.
“You good?” he asked.
I nodded and closed my eyes too.
When two sets of breathing had evened out, the late-afternoon sun blocked out by the heavy curtains, I silently slid from the bed, went to my room, and dressed. I opened the drawer of my side table and stared at the old picture inside. The outside edge was burned. I brought it to my nose, smelling that night as if I were standing on the grass, an inferno around me.
I looked at the picture and ran my hand over the two people it showed. “It would never work,” I whispered, and saw a teardrop fall onto the smiling couple. A teardrop that wasn’t strong enough to extinguish the fire. A perfect couple the world didn’t want in it.
I put the picture in my pocket. My meds stared back at me from the drawer. I wouldn’t need them where I was going. I shut the drawer and threw on my leather jacket. I walked to Cowboy’s room and looked inside. I stood in the doorway and looked at the couple on the bed. Both light-skinned, both blond. Both blue-eyed, both perfect for the other . . . both people who belonged, who wouldn’t get spat at in the street for simply holding hands.
