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14. He’ll Be Here

When Ivy’s eyes opened, she felt delirious. Wake up, she commanded of herself, green eyes flashing over the monochromatic room she’d been confined to. How long had she been trapped there in that room? Her legs were tingling painfully from having been tied for so long. How long had she been asleep? Her mouth felt dry and on top of that, she had to piss furiously.

Hesitantly looking down, she couldn’t miss the mess of her thigh and she recoiled inwardly, disgusted by herself. He was right, she did know what this “picture” was.

“I hate him so much,” she whispered, vibrating in anger. Of course his self-important psychopathic ass would literally carve his own self portrait onto into another person’s body. If her mouth weren’t so dry, she’d puke. She needed him dead sooner than later. This could not be forgiven. Never.

The door behind her unlocked and the dentist came to her side, picking up the spray bottle and the black towel. He sprayed her thigh down and it seemed to be regular water. He then patted the area dry before producing a jar of medicated rub which he rubbed over her wounds with his bare hands.

Her blood stained shredded capris were unsalvageable, but ruined pants were the least of her concerns. She mentally did a run down of her body to see what had changed while she was sleeping. For all she knew he could’ve shaved her head and kept the twists to sniff and play with like a pervert. He did seem like the type to get hard off of that weird shit. No, still there. She felt them swing when she moved her head.

“Gotdamn,” she groaned wriggling in the ropes hoping that maybe, just maybe, they’d loosened. “God if you get me out of here I won’t watch no more insertion porn, hentai, or orgies. I won’t have sex with anyone I’m not dating. I’ll tithes to mama’s church and I’ll even fast on Easter just please.. please get me out of here,” she whispered feeling as though she would go crazy cramped in the same position. How long had it been?

“God ain’t listening to you,” he scoffed, seemingly amused.

“I’ve got to pee. Badly. I’m too serious.” Her thighs pressed together.

I swear if he don’t let me get up to go to the toilet and I mess around pee on this couch, I don’t care what happens.. I’m biting his nose clean off.

“Fuck it,” he spit dropping everything to walk out. A minute later, he appeared wielding a giant kitchen knife that looked to be sharpened to an evil degree. The look in his eye was sinister and said he was sick of her shit. She held her breath preparing to finally die as his knife wedged between her body/clothes and the rope, roughly pulling up to saw through the red. They were tight and pressing into her before they all went slack. Before her legs could be deemed functional, she was pulled from the chaise, snatched up by her elbow into a hobbling stance.

“Try something and I can’t promise the safety your mother,” he blurted tossing the red ropes back onto the chaise.

Her leg gave and he pulled her back up.

Damn. What do I do now. I can’t leave her, Ivy thought, troubled. She couldn’t abandon her mother although Ms. Renee would probably tell her to run the first chance she got. Come to think of it, it was exactly what she’d say..

“Walk to the door…. Now move.”

Once Dr. Stevens unlocked the door, Ivy walked ahead of him as he instructed. From the living room to the hall to the bathroom. She truly had to go and figured the exit was locked as well.

Where is my mother locked away in this place?

He stood back as Ivy went into the bathroom, closing the door behind herself. Getting down to the toilet hurt because of her thigh and her legs still felt like Bambi legs.

I’m a find something in here to kill that motherfucker dead.

As quietly and quickly as she could, she opened his cabinet finding it pristinely organized. She stole his beard trimming scissors.

“Ms. Stevens, are you alright in there?”

“What you think,” she called.

“Do I need to come in?”

“I’m on the toilet!”

Where do I stab him to get the best chance of running away? What if he blocks it or takes the scissors?

“Come out, little Ivy,” he sang. He already suspected something. She couldn’t try it. This was the only opportunity she had to catch him off guard and she couldn’t blow it by doing things she knew would not work. Tucking the scissors into her covered cleavage hoping he wouldn’t frisk her. She flushed the toilet and washed her hands, not daring to check her reflection. The door flew open.

“Come on,” he called.

She continued to dry her hands on the towel before walking out ahead of him. He didn’t touch her and she was thankful to the God above.

“I’m hungry. My mouth is dry. I need water too.”

“Do you.”

“Do you treat all your guests like this? Yes. I’m a human and humans require food and drink to convert to energy in order to live. But then again I’m not the doctor here, am I?” Wanna be doctor headass.

“No, you’re not, but you’re correct. I am being rude. Follow me.”

He led the way to his kitchen and the second she saw the front door, she reached between her titties to pull those little scissors.

One chance. It was now or never.

With all her might, she slammed the scissors into his back where his spine would be and he yelled stumbling as she pushed him, kicking his head as she herself stumbled over him. He grabbed for her ankle but she stomped on his fingers and ran for kitchen knife and a big pan. The skillets were hanging drin the ceiling over his island.

When she turned, he was on his feet but adrenaline was coursing through her body so strong, she swung the pan with all her strength to fight and he went down. He was still. Out cold it looked like. Something in her said hit him again, so she did to make sure. He had to dead. She stabbed him in his thigh and he didn’t move.

Sill nervous, she kept the pan in hand as she approached him on the ground to search him for keys. She found them. She didn’t know how much time she had though to explore looking for her mom and something told her to get out of there fast before he opened his eyes. She could come back, but she herself had to go. It was dumb, but somehow she felt like he was superhuman. Even on the ground bleeding and still. Maybe it was the trauma. She was scared and her brain said RUN. NOW.

Sprinting to the door, she fiddled with the keyring trying every key until she heard a click. She unlocked the regular double lock and sprinted.

There was no sign of a police or police car. But she figured she wouldn’t have access to it anyway if she didn’t have that car key. She was on her own, on foot, on her own cut up and wobbly ass legs.

I’m sorry mom.. I’ll be back once I get help.

She would not stop moving until she got as far away from his neighborhood as she could. Her body would not let her.

“ANSWER THE DAMN PHONE,” Araya paced in the parking lot of the hospital. Her tears were dried on her face and her hands shook as the operator directed her to leave another message. This was the eighth one, and as the beep came, she was wailing into the phone, begging him to appear.

“PLEASE,” she sobbed, “PLEASE.. HELP HER. I’LL DO ANYTHING. I SWEAR!”

She didn’t know how else to get his attention and she was too afraid to leave her sister’s side. Too afraid that if she left, the worse would happen. All she could do was trust the hospital surgeons and cry, with all her faith in Dr. Stevens.

He has to come.

He wouldn’t leave us, we’re too special.

No, no, she sniffed with a smile. He loves us. He’ll be here. He’ll help her. He can do anything. He can make this right.

Her body still shook, but any negative thoughts, she cast out not giving them a chance to be fully thought out.

“He’ll be here,” she whispered wrapping her arms around herself and taking deep shuddering breaths. “He’ll definitely come.. He’ll be here.. He’ll come.. Yes.. He’ll come.. It’ll be okay..”

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Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Summary: Erik has been hired to find an embezzler for an old friend. What happens now that LaNyah is back?

Pairing: Erik x Black!OC

Genre: Suspense

It’s Friday morning and business as usual at GBI. No one on the accounting floor knows why or cares that they have to answer to Stacey. Matt’s office was occupied two days ago when he ran from Mr. Green and Mr. Stevens, but now, it is empty. It was cleaned up overnight, door placard removed, and no news from the man himself. Mr. Green dropped by the floor on Thursday to hold a meeting. He let them know that he will be reorganizing the current teams, and Stacey will oversee the entire department until further notice.

Stacey is upstairs at the coffee machine, making her first cup for the morning. She turns as she hears the elevator ding. Ashley and Alex walk in together, waving at her on the way to his office. Finished doctoring the coffee to her liking, she walks back to her desk and sits down as the elevator goes off on the floor again. Stacey looks up to see Erik walk out of the car. He nods in greeting to her before heading into Alex’s office.  

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It’s…complicated II
With her plus one for tonight’s banquet solidified, Ayanna followed the mass of commuters into the express train, grateful to snag a seat.
Resting her dogs, she candidly mapped out a set of plans to turn herself from rags to riches in a matter of hours.
When the express pulled into the 125th street train station platform, Ayanna was out the doors in a hurry, freely descending up the steps in her New Balance sneakers that she’d managed to swap out with her Mary Jane’s.
“Why hello, Ms. Pierce.” Her landlord greeted her. 
“Hello, Ms. Rosie.”
Parked on top of the first few steps with her walking cane in hand, Ms. Rosie craned her neck up at Ayanna with a puff of smoke trailing out her mouth, “In a rush?”
“Kind of…”
Renting out a quaint, two bedroom apartment in the heart of Harlem wasn’t quite what Ayanna expected it to be but, nonetheless, she was grateful to have a place to call her own.
Throwing her purse along with the shopping bags down, Ayanna kicked off her New Balances, sending each sneaker flying in separate corners of the living room.
Her work clothes were the next pieces to be strewn across her apartment as she hightailed into the bathroom.
The anxiety that berated her body was temporarily inhibited by the warm sprinkling water, massaging the soreness that throbbed amidst her lower back.
The idea of seeing my T’Challa tonight got Ayanna all worked up. 
Slipping two fingers between my legs, she stroked the sensitive bead of flesh within her core at a slow pace. 
‘I had no business pleasing myself with such little time on my hands, especially one that was already spoken for.’ Ayanna chastised herself. But self satisfaction was the best endorphin to calm her apprehension about tonight’s festivities.
Getting carried away, Ayanna massaged her breast with her free hand, right before she brought herself to the peak.
Coming down from the quick high of a release, she twisted the nozzle of her shower head and stepped out.
Draping her bathrobe over her body, Ayanna scampered into the living room to collect the shopping bags that nearly rendered her bank account into the negatives.
Laid out across her bed was the sexy red silhouette Valentino gown, accompanied with black peep toe stiletto sandals from Zara, which Carla urged her not to buy. ‘This woman must think I have a bevy of sugar daddies to fill up my bank account with coins.’
6:22pm
All equipped in her gown, heels, and matching velvet clutch, Ayanna opted to slick her hair up into a high top bun. 
There was only one more thing left…
Hustling through the revolving doors of Macy’s, Ayanna trotted off into the makeup department.
“Help me, I’m basic.” Ayanna whined, throwing herself over the glass counter dramatically.
“Ho, sit down.” Her roommate Ravyn, waved her over to a seat across from her makeup booth.
“You are a lifesaver.” 
“No need to kiss my ass girl, just sit so we can get started.”
Ravyn was a true artist in the world of makeup. So Ayanna knew her wondrous hands would work it’s magic.
Resting her chin on her hands, Ayanna leaned over the glass counter that distributed an array of designer makeup, and let Ravyn beat her face.
The buzzing of her iPhone, along with the brief text message from Erik,
‘Where you at?,’
Broke the tranquility of being pampered.
“Hmmph, let me find out.” Ravyn’s saucy voice rang as she tilted Ayanna’s head to get a better angle.
“It is not even like that, he is just my plus one for tonight.” She affirmed, gripping her phone with both hands as Ayanna replied to Erik’s message.
“Now why would you go ahead and do that?” Ravyn countered, smoothing out the base of Ayanna’s foundation. 
“I couldn’t think of anyone who would be available in such short notic–.”
“Yea, keep telling yourself that.” 
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Squinting her eyes at Ayanna skeptically, Ravyn pursed her lips. “You can keep it 100 with me Ayanna, Erik I were just fuck buddies.”
“Oh gosh here we go again. Erik and I go way back since, M.I.T. I told you this from the first day he helped me move into our apartment.” 
“I just don’t understand how you could be around a man that fine for that long and not once get the dic–”
“I know Erik has the ability to pry any woman’s panties off at the wink of an eye, I’ve had the misfortune of witnessing it a time or two, but I pride myself on my strong will to maintain my dignity.”
“Well I’ll remain undignified, the dick was bomb.” Ravyn boasted.
“Congratulations for adding yourself as another notch on his bedpost.”
“Girl, and how is saving yourself for the right man, treating you?”
“Very well I might add.”
“The lies.” Ravyn brushed her off.
Allowing the busy noises of Macy’s to filter out her badgering nerves Ayanna slipped in a lil cat nap, enjoying the strokes of Ravyn’s brush against her face.
The frequent buzzing of her iPhone rattling over the counter caused her to pop one eye open to view her messages from, Erik
Yo
I’m outside
You still ain’t done?
Yo?
“That’s my cue, Ray.” I’ll text you when I’m heading home.
“Don’t bother get you some dick, preferable rated E dick,” a nickname Ravyn conjured up for Erik, causing Ayanna to gag instinctively. 
“I don’t do sloppy seconds, or thirds or fourths. I can’t even keep count of his hoes, but anyway…thanks for the beat face.” Ayanna smooched her lips, waving away as Ravyn gave her the finger.
Her gleeful exterior didn’t last for long once she made it past the threshold of the Macy’s revolving doors.
She couldn’t even hold back her irritation as she eyed Erik’s attire. “I can’t believe you!” Ayanna squeaked. 
Eyeing his sherpa lined jacket, African beaded necklace, down to his white tee, baggy trousers, and his infamous combat boots.
“What?” He coaxed taking one last pull of his blunt before he flung it aside.
“I told you it was a black tie event.”
“I’m black and I couldn’t find my tie”
Screeching in horror as she stomped over the pavement, Ayanna paced before Erik. “Go in there and get a suit.” She demanded.
“You must not want me to be your plus one after all.” Erik laughed.
“I can’t believe you would do this to me.”
“Did you forget who I am?”
“No, but I thought you would do me this one solid.”
“With no pussy in return, nah.”
“You said I could cook and clean instead.
“I said for a month and you talking about two weeks.”
“Well you can forget I even agreed to that.” Ayanna growled, retrieving her phone from her clutch to request an Uber.
Ten minutes later, Ayanna was sitting in the Uber en route to Lincoln Center, she drew her attention outside the passenger side window. Unable to even look at Erik sitting beside her in the back seat.
“This is your stop.” The driver announced. 
Ayanna’s nerves were back with a vengeance, making her perspire profusely. Even if her plus one looked and smelled like an extra from a Kendrick Lamar video she was thankful for Carla’s choice of a gown. The sheer material easily masks any signs of sweat.
Carla
‘Sorry, not gonna make it, something came up.’
This night just couldn’t get any worse, Ayanna whined, crumpling her iPhone in her hand, eyes scorching the text message, right as they coasted out the elevator.
Her disdain mounted. 
This bitch had some nerve, after she pushed me to attend the banquet, and her ass decided to leave me to fend for myself.
The rest of the night Ayanna was stuck trying to blend in with the swarm of white faces in their tailored suits attached to women adorning those infamous red soled shoes that she could only dream of owning.
She sipped on a flute glass of champagne, railing as she scanned the room of high profile degrees, and six-figure salaries, trying to mask her discomfort from the smugness in the room.
Carla crossed her mind a few times during the night and Ayanna made it a point to leave her with a few harsh words before the night was up. Shrugging off those thoughts, Ayanna became instantly sick to her stomach at the sight of two modelesque attendees draped across Erik’s arms like his finest accessory. His little stunt annoyed Ayanna to no end.
She glared at him as he walked around the ballroom, eating up all the attention he procured from the bourgeois from his unconventional attire. Erik loved nothing more than to make white people uncomfortable. She should have known he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to make some sort of racial-political statement in front of New York’s elite.
With the sound of silverware tapping against a champagne glass, Philip Coulson descended onto the brightly lit stage, grasping the mic before he made his proper speech, announcing the total donations that have been offered for the evening.
Thankfully, the food was the only satisfying piece of the event. 
“Excuse me.” 
Seeing T’Challa over her shoulder released all the tension in her body.
“Yes” 
“May I have this dance?” He asked.
“Uh…yea…” 
“You look absolutely beautiful by the way.” 
Ayanna smiled coyly.
His hand settled firmly at the small of her back, drawing their bodies closer, she could have fainted with the close proximity.
She shifted awkwardly across the dance floor as she tried to let T’Challa lead.
“Enjoying the event?” His voice resonated over Ayanna, riling up her anxiety.
“Uh…it’s nice.” Really bitch? Pinocchio is a better liar. Her inner cynic bantered.
His gaze studied her profile, but she pretended not to notice.
“You don’t have to lie, these banquets are kind of stiff and boring.” T’Challa’s voice lulled her back in with a hint of mirth.
Ayanna squinted at T’Challa, questioning his response. She managed to smile when his devilish laughter followed right after.
“To be honest, I’m not used to attending…an event this…extravagant.” She admitted
“I’m kind of jealous, I wish I never had to attend any of these things, ever again.”
Ayanna glanced at T’Challa trying to read him, but his buoyant grin seemed sincere.
“Then why even go if you’d rather not be at these events?”
“Okoye…my general says these events are detrimental for our induction into society.” He responded swiftly. It wasn’t so long ago when the secretive nation finally revealed it’s true riches and technological advances to the rest of the world.
“It must be nice to always have protection.” Ayanna looked around the ballroom, noticing T’Challa’s bodyguards dressed in fine armory, eyeing them intently.
“Some Days it is.” He chuckled.
Once the band transitioned into another song, Ayanna’s attention would bounce back and forth between T’Challa and Erik who was much too comfortable with some new voluptuous bronzed prize.
“So…I see my cousin has caught your attention.” T’Challa chuckled.
The revelation captivated Ayanna. 
“Your cousin?” Something instantly shifted in his demeanor, overcasting his keen disposition with eager curiosity.
Ayanna studied the way T’Challa’s lips pulled at the side, forming into a slight smirk. 
She bit her lip nervously, ashamed that she had been caught.
Checking on Erik once more out of habit, Ayanna noticed him slithering out of the arch of the entryway, cradling two woman of interest underneath the cusp of his broad arms. 
“Yes, his father N'Jobu and my father T’Chaka were brothers.”
Ayanna jerked to a halt at T’Challa’s revelation. She knew Erik to be a very private person, but the cryptic pieces of his past he shared with her always pointed her to the conclusion that Erik was an orphan. 
“I feel like you’d rather be somewhere else.” T’Challa whispered closely against her ear.
“Uh—” Ayanna muttered, silenced by the feeling of T’Challa’s baited breath brushing against her jawline.
“I just need a moment.” Ayanna began, raising the hem of her gown before she bolted towards the exit in search of Erik.

need-my-fics
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Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

Summary: Erik has been hired to find an embezzler for an old friend. The whole gang is back at GBI, ready to fight an old enemy and save their friend. 

Pairing: Erik x Black!OC

Genre: Suspense

Bridges checks the time; it is about 4 in the afternoon. The sun is still out, so they have to make sure they set up where they will not be easily found. Green pulls the SUV into a parking lot across the street from where Gina’s warehouse is located. They are guarded by another abandoned warehouse. Kill’s phone is out, checking for any heat sources coming from the inside of the building. He nods to Green, who parks and gets out to stretch out after the drive.

Kill, Bridges, and Green walk around the SUV together. Inside the back is a trunk full of lethal goodies for their use. Kill pops the lock, showing them the inventory. Matt stays inside, looking on as they make their decisions on what to take with them. All the items are equipped for hand-to-hand combat. They already know that this fight will be up close and personal. Gina made it that way both in her intentions and her chosen location for this meeting.

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Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Summary: Erik has been hired to find an embezzler for an old friend. The whole gang is back at GBI, ready to fight an old enemy and save their friend. 

Pairing: Erik x Black!OC

Genre: Suspense

A/N: *steps up to the mic* Hello everyone! I want to thank everyone who has supported this story. Also, to let you know that this story is coming to a close. I will be dropping a chapter each week until its conclusion. 

LaNyah stares at the older women whose hair is much longer and darker than when she helped her out in the parking lot, however long ago that was. Then she looks over at Laura, who is rocking back and forth, whimpering about not wanting to die. Why would she even ask such a thing? What does Laura know about this woman that LaNyah doesn’t? How does she know her? Did Gina say before her friends arrive? Does she mean Alex, Ashley, Stacey, and Erik? LaNyah tries to hold back her smile and closes her eyes to focus on keeping calm while this lady begins her tale.

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This is for the Quarantine Writing Challenge prompted by @chaneajoyyy​ & @shaekingshitup . I’ve been trying to get  this out of my drafts forever! Now I can check it off my list.

Thanks for the inspiration!

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In My Mind x 05

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Firm foundations and sturdy hands

still crumble under tyranny

“Where exactly are you taking me,” you slur through toothpaste, spitting it in the sink before rinsing. It’s still early, 8:45, but he’s fast, putting on clothes in his room while you take the bathroom.

“Well you need clothes, I ain’t forget.”

“And hair products, a curling iron, satin cap, my own body wash,” you add using his mouthwash. It’s good he has extras of the basics. The bathroom door is cracked so he can walk in and hand you a stick of deodorant which you jam under your arms and set in an empty drawer with your toothbrush for your own. “Okay, v-neck come through.”

Full business casual, he comes up beside you in the mirror brushing his shaved sides down and you walk out to put your shoes back on, wearing the same clothes from yesterday.

The way out of the building is just as smooth as the way in. You take a staircase to a display where his glossy burgundy BMW sits with tinted windows and custom tags.. his trophy.. and then you get in. He presses a button and you sink through tinted glass looking out at the view until you reach ground and the wall goes up behind you allowing him to back out onto pavement.

“I’ll never get over that,” you mumble looking through the side mirror to watch the opening shut. His own private entrance. A ‘sky garage’ he called it.

“Nia..”

“Hm..”

“What do you think about Black Wall Street?” He’s driving somewhat normal now, only six miles over the speed limit and you haven’t felt like you were going to fall through the door yet which is a plus.

“Black business, black mecca.”

“It’s been the pinnacle of black successful business. If you look at Tulsa, Jackson Ward, Durham.. We were at the height of self-sufficiency. We had bankers, builders, mechanics, electricians, cooks, shoemakers, tailors…. hairstylists. Anything you needed, you’d get from your own people and it worked! We were putting money in each other’s pockets and building wealth with each other, taking pride in our blackness instead of tryna be the third white race… you know Asians are the second.”

“I was with you until that last one.”

“Nia, you know what happened to all them cities?”

“They were destroyed.”

“By who? Did we destroy ourselves?”

“Boy. Who are you, Dr. Umar?”

“That’s what you think?”

You touch the small black, red, and green beaded necklace with the wooden brown carved Africa pendent sitting in his cupholder.

“Umar Johnson is an ignorant misogynist who uses his platform to spread false information while robbing his followers. That’s what you think of me?”

You blink. “No, I only meant the superwoke part.”

“Unlike him, I have a Ph.D and I don’t think AIDS came from gay black men, but it was intended to decimate the black population.”

“I get it, don’t compare you,” you mutter watching the Oakland city views through your tinted window. People are out, strutting and power-walking on sidewalks and jogging across streets to work.

“Who destroyed our black wall streets?”

“White people,” you sigh giving him what he wants.

“Never forget that the US National Guard united with White Nationalists in 1921 to bomb and shoot up the Greenwood District of Tulsa. They destroyed 35 blocks of self-sufficient black business, murdering an estimated 200 people and injuring more. This is what happens when you and I pull ourselves up by our bootstraps in this country. Jackson Ward? Socio-economic assault. They built a highway right through it and put their own businesses around it to undercut our efforts. They chased us out and sent us to housing projects then filled them with drugs. You see where I’m going with this?”

“I think I’m starting to.”

“Nia, you’ve seen my dreams, you’ve seen where I’ve been. I’ve stood on both sides and seen firsthand how easy it is to infiltrate and decimate an entire city, a region even with the right intelligence and firepower. Hell, I’ve even pulled the trigger and I’m not proud, but it was a necessary evil for me to see that it doesn’t matter how strong you build or how pure your intentions are. When a government decides that you’ve surpassed the ceiling of poverty they’ve designed specifically for you they’ll wipe out a generation, drug you up, and restart you from zero. Do you understand how deep this goes?”

You finger the beaded necklace in your lap. Of course you understand everything he’s saying, but what he’s expecting from you is a different story and you won’t agree to anything prematurely.

“Where’s the end,” you ask. How will he know when he’s accomplished this great mission he’s been on for most of his life? It’s all he breathes. Will he even survive without the fight as his purpose? Keeping your silence, you watch his profile as he turns left.

“Africa. Africa was the start and it’ll be the end, but in the meantime we need to provide legal and physical protection here, major city by city. We need safe houses, secured and armed.. built to withstand the force of a nuclear weapon.”

“How will you manage that?”

“How long will it take is the question.” Pulling up to a building standing among other buildings, this one is as big as a high school with lettering across the front reading Wakandan International Outreach Center. Temporarily, you put the fact that you’re supposed to be shopping to the back of your mind. You’ve heard of this place on the news, but somehow you didn’t put this together. He parks in front of some well manicured bushes in a space marked for the CEO.

“You’re the CEO?” You look around at the cars in the lot, the WIOC bus, and to the people walking inside.

“You ain’t know? Ms. See Everything?”

“If I saw everything, I’d have figured this thing out between us. Don’t ya think?”

He steps out and adjusts his tie. He’s got the grey v-neck sweater vest, the white collared shirt underneath. The navy chinos.. and the navy oxfords.

Getting out, you spin showing off the same outfit you’ve been wearing and his brows raise subtly as you walk in beside him. Immediately he’s rushed with greetings from the three people at the front desk, two guys and a girl, all wearing black WIOC shirts with blue and purple lettering that reminds you of a 90s paper cup pattern. Very stylish and retro.

The girl with the baby face and two long feed-in braids, is reaching out, grabbing your hand to stamp with some sort of mallet which he gently blocks with two fingers on her wrist before it makes contact.

“Shakila, this is an affiliate,” he stares. The girl straightens, backing up meekly and the guy to her right.. the one with a rougher feel and a troublesome glint in his eye can’t be over 21, you guess. He rolls out from behind the desk and you see he’s wearing all black roller skates with orange and green swirled wheels. They look custom.

“72 people in the building, boss, counting you two. Ghost and Slim out patrolling, say we gotta bluebird.. 5-0 campin at Fuller’s they up to something but they been quiet..up there since about 8:15 this morning.”

“Keep watching. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Yezzir.” He rolls off down the hall and makes a right, disappearing.

“Donnie, how you doin,” Erik asks the man who’s been reading a magazine, chillin. He’s bald, light skin, and looks over 40. He’s also as big as Erik! His muscles make his t-shirt took like a muscle shirt, it’s tight, but it seems more of a personal style choice than an issue of not being able to get a bigger shirt.

Erik taps the desk before continuing down a short hall that splits into three and you walk alongside him, making a left when he makes a left and passing two young boys in the hall.

“An affiliate?”

“They thought I was bringing you in for assistance,” he clarifies and your face scrunches. “But you and your salon might be interested in becoming affiliates after I give you the tour.”

“Really? Wow..” This thing with him just keeps getting stranger.

“This is the women’s dorm,” he stops in front of a large expanded room, a space filled with about.. “Twenty beds, ten bunk beds. Forty women can sleep here with their kids. They call and we hold the spot or they show up and take it. That’s all the beds we could fit in there but I’m thinking of expanding. The men’s dorm is on the other side of the building. Don’t worry, we have security. No incidents yet. Further down,” he leads and you follow him down the clean tile hall. He takes you into another opening that says locker room.

“It’s like a YMCA in here.” You turn looking all through at the rows of lockers with actual locks, the showers, four toilet stalls, four sinks.

“There are 60 lockers, eight showers, eight stalls, eight sinks, two washers, and two dryers.”

“Y'all water bill high.” Looking back to him, he smiles and nods for you to head out into the hall again as you follow him. “This place is nice, if I didn’t have my apartment, I’d try to stay someplace like this.”

“It’s our safe place for homeless kids and families or just people who need a place to be without having to look over their shoulder, wondering where their meal coming from or who’s after them.”

Pausing, you look around and Erik stops. This place is beautiful. He’s even got the babies’ art hanging on the walls making the place warmer.

“You good?”

“Yeah.. You know, I’d actually love to be affiliated with this place. I wanna donate. How do I do that?”

“I’m glad you asked, Nia. Keep walking with me. Let me show you the rest,” he smirks, speeding up as he unlocks a door with his handprint that lights up blue.

“What the hell,” you mutter staring between him and the door.

“Staff only entrance. Extra measure to keep the women safe on this side, if you wanna leave or come in, there’s one way and you gotta get through security, that way you’re only back here if you’re supposed to be.

"Makes sense.”

Through the door is another hall that’s perpendicular to the one you just left. You follow him left and come to a large open cafeteria full of people sitting at tables, eating. Men, women, small children, teens, all black for the most part. There is a sprinkle of darker skin that isn’t black. A mother with three young kids and then an old man.

“How do you get away with only taking black people? Isn’t that 'discrimination’,” you ask with air quotes. Not that you take issue with it, you’re just curious. He laughs.

“When the colonizers come we just tell them we don’t have the space and if there’s an issue we have Donnie escort them out. We don’t get governmental assistance, we’re not required to run how they think we should run. We screen everyone who comes through and take who we think will benefit from our programs.

"Wow, I’m with it,” you smile following him to the food line.

“Gone 'head baby,” the older woman in front of him waves for you both to go ahead. He puts his hand on her back and kisses her cheek and the line ahead happily parts like the red sea letting the both of you through with a quickness. They love him. They genuinely love him. They also all have stamps on their hand. One woman is trying to pull her stubborn toddler aside and out of the way, but Erik sweeps him up and sits the boy on his hip, winking at the woman before passing you a white dish and grabbing two more.

“What you want lil man,” he asks as he goes through each option fixing two plates. One (sausage links, grits, eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, pancakes, fruit cup) for himself and one (sausage links, bacon, eggs, pancake, fruit cup) for the kid.

Choosing a table, you sit with your plate (some of everything because it looks good) and Erik follows, sitting across from you with the kid and the two plates.

“I’ll get the drinks,” you offer heading back to pick up two glasses of apple juice, making it to the table before returning for one more glass and three straws. You pass them out and take your seat, mouth watering and ready to eat.

“Bow your head and close your eyes, please.” You lower yours and wait.

“I don’t close my eyes.” He lowers his head and you say the prayer as the toddler reaches into Erik’s plate grabbing one of his sausages. Erik doesn’t look up but he shakes his head with a slow smile and you try to keep from laughing as you finish saying grace.

“Amen,” you snort picking up your fork.

“This why I keep my eyes open,” he points to the kid, shaking his head in humor. He sets the boy in the seat and hands him a piece of his own sausage. Looking over, you see the mom approaching with her plate and an apologetic smile.

“Lord,” she sighs. She’s pretty though she looks tired. “I’m so sorry, he’s a handful, I know.”

“Not at all,” Erik smiles. She sits next to her son and he automatically starts pulling on her, saying “mama, mom, mommy,” just busy, so she pulls him onto her lap to keep him still. They’re both cute and remind you of Lia and her son, Jackson.

“This is Chyna.. and Orion,” he palms the boy’s head playfully. “Chyna, this is Nia,” he nods digging into his plate.

“Hi Nia,” she smiles and you reach out to take her hand, asking how she is. She’s great but ready to eat, she laughs and for a while you all just focus on eating.

“Mommy,” Orion starts and you understand 40% of what he just said. His mom entertains him with hums of “Really? Oh wow,” as she eats, feeding bacon into his hands.

“You here for a job,” she asks looking up and it’s an innocent question.

“I’m here on tour of the facility, just lookin-”

“Nia is an affiliate and potential shareholder. We’re in discussion,” he interrupts.

“Oh okay..,” Chyna’s eyes widen. “So you’re getting a feel of the center. Let me tell you why this place is so important,” she says all humor gone.

“Me and my son have been here for the past few nights.. a few nights before that.. and then maybe a week prior.” She looks to Erik and he nods.

“His father, Rashaad,” she continues, gesturing to her son, “He died last month and didn’t leave a dime. I talked to his family and my family and they told me I could sign over his body and the state would cremate him,” she pauses, still in shock from it. “…But I couldn’t do that…” Tears leak from her eyes and you look around for a napkin. She swallows, her eyes turning pink, and takes a breath. “Then there was the rent.. We hadn’t paid it for the month and our extension was running out,” she sniffs. “Well I had a funeral to plan, I couldn’t let the state take him.”

Orion, feeling her sadness, rubs her face to try to make her feel better and she tries to pull herself together.

“So ah-” she wipes her nose. “I took a chance and contacted the Wakandan International Outreach Center and they not only paid for the burial and the coffin, they sent a representative to the funeral for words of encouragement and I’ll never forget that,” she sighs. Erik keeps his eyes down to his plate.

“See, his daddy.. was a hood,” she continues, eyes dead on yours. You know what she’s talking about. You don’t have to grow up in Cali to have family in the streets. “He was shot out there in the streets in a driveby…,” she sniffs. “And you know.. people like to talk a lotta shit, but even if he wasn’t nothing to nobody else, he was someone to me. I loved him.”

“We’re working on getting Chyna a higher paying job to cover her rent,” Erik interjects giving her time to wipe her face.

“Yeah, they paid the rent for the month and they’re paying next month. I’m taking the class on building a resume now. I’m still working at Ross, I’m just trying to do everything I can.

"You’re doing a lot,” you offer and Erik gestures for you to stand to follow him out. “It was good to meet you and hear your experience,” you smile shaking her hand.

“Thank you, and I’m glad you’re trying to help. We need more people like him,” she points to Erik.

“Shit, don’t boost me,” he smiles. It’s something he’s done a lot since he’s been here and you’ve noticed that his smile is something that brings so much peace and a sense of safety to these people. Still, looking at him you can see deep down there’s a spot in him that isn’t touched. It’s full of rage and intense sadness that his smile can’t cover. If only the peace he provided to all these people would reach him.

@thickemadame @just-juicee @kenbieeereadss @honeytoffee

Previous Chapters:

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9. Make You an Offer

“Uht UHHH!" Renee’ frowned nudging Ivy’s hand away as it reached for the big spoon laying on a napkin near the crockpot of steaming greens cooked with hamhock. "Ivy, now you know I better than to walk into my kitchen and touch food without washing your hands. Go wash up,” she waved to the kitchen opening.

Ivy had nearly forgotten how anal her mama was about hand-washing. Through her youth, it was always the rule. Even through all the shit they’d gone through with her father being a rolling stone and her brother scamming everyone and their alopecia mamas, always in trouble. Her mom always found a way to care about the most simple shit. Ivy appreciated it. It brought a sense of normalcy.

“You shouldn’t be hungry, YOU JUST ATE,” Renee’ yelled as Ivy scurried off to the bathroom, sudsing her hands quickly under the water. She looked at her phone noting a missed call from her brother as she dried her hands on the towel over the sink. He was probably hitting her up for cash.

“I can’t help that you cook good,” Ivy muttered marching into the kitchen to grab the metal spoon, scooping a small amount into a bowl. Despite her mama’s glare, she stood there with a sneaky smirk next to the counter and picked at the greens with the pads of her fingers, eating the meat separately.

“Chile…” Renee’ muttered shaking her head, humored as she retreated heading to her room. It was a small house in a fairly tame neighborhood. The neighbors were black. There were white folk across the street. Ivy had lived there and worked for a few years before going out on her own.

Once she’d gotten on her feet with her steady paycheck and the money she’d saved from summer jobs, she’d maintained and pushed from then on. It was rare that she needed her mama, she could typically handle herself. But these were rare times.

Ivy strolled to the comfortable hunter green living room couch, nestling into the soft cushion with her knee up, level with her chest. The couch had been donated to them by a member of her mom’s church when they first moved. She turned on the television for background noise and ignored it, looking at her phone and hesitating with her finger over the call button. Her brother’s name was right beneath the long white fingernail of her middle finger.

Riiing… Riiing…

“Hello? Ivy?”

Ivy’s eyes rolled as her fingers tapped her thigh.

“Ivy?… You there? …Ivy.”

“What Ivan,” Ivy asked calmly trying not to get smart.

“Yeah, you won’t believe this sis. I started this business putting niggas on, all it took… was $400. They gimme the money… I help em flip it. Simple. Had niggas getting thousands back from the bank. You tryna make some money? I could get your rent and the payment for that Nissan payed off for you…”

“No thanks. That’s all you wanted?”

“You don’t want your phone bill payed? You could be shopping, what you want?”

“I’m not interested.”

“How you not interested in money!?”

“So you getting your son from Tarsha this weekend?”

“Huh? Oh I’m not in town, I’m in Tampa,” he pauses.

“Hm.”

Ivan kisses his teeth. “I’m outta town! I can’t get him right now,” he reasons, voice high. In actuality, Ivan does what he wants and he’s selfish. He never does what he’s supposed to for that boy. His baby mamas have to chase him down.

“What’s this about a stalker I hear?”

“Mama told you?” Ivy didn’t expect her mom to say anything to him. What could he do anyways? He’s across the country.

“What you do to that man,” he teases, but it’s not funny. It’s a serious situation. “Nah, but let me know,” he says when you’re silent. “I’ll get over there somehow.”

“Ivan. Do you know anyone in California who got hands or can shoot?”

“That’s why I ain’t want y'all out there. You outta my network sis.”

That’s was actually one reason why Ms. Renee’ and Ivy chose California in the first place, to escape the bullshit. Ivy couldn’t find it within herself to regret the move.

Still, she thought about his offer. How would he get to her? She’d have to pay and chances were he was just using concern for her as an excuse to get to California.

“If you came to California who would you stay with?… Mom has space but if you stress her out you will never be invited back, do you hear me?… Ivan, you better say something…. IVAN.”

Ivy lowered the phone to see that the call had dropped. She tried calling Ivan again, but with no success.

She tried her mom’s phone and again it did not work. There was no signal. She tried to send her mom a text and the message failed.

Ivy grabbed the fios remote and turned the TV down to a low hum, listening to the air. She thought she’d heard a bump a minute ago and had thought nothing of it, but suddenly she was thinking about it. Listening closely, she waited. There was silence and nothing seemed strange as far as sounds. Her finger hovered over the volume button, but she didn’t turn the TV back up.

Her sixth sense tingled. She stood quietly from the couch and grabbed the car keys from the kitchen before walking to the door and peering through the peephole. She exited the house and manually unlocked the car for minimum noise, popping the trunk. Beside a baby blue blanket and a pair of 6 inch nude sepia closed toe heels sat a locked black gun box. Her matte black 9 mm sat inside and she checked it to make sure it was still fully loaded. It was.

Aiming it at the ground, she contemplated driving away in the car,  but where else would she go? She couldn’t keep walking away from her shit and her life, but she felt paranoid and she hated that feeling.

She felt like something was off and she didn’t trust it. But what if something was off? She couldn’t just leave her mom in the house alone. It wasn’t her mom’s issue, it was hers. One fuckin dentist was pissing her off and she as she tucked the car keys in her pocket looking around, she determined that no man would run her from her place and her mama’s place. She tried calling her mom’s cell again from outside, waiting. If her phone wasn’t working then her mom’s probably wasn’t either.

“This is irritating,” she sighed looking at the phone. She couldn’t even send an email.

Without a second thought, she was back in the house. “MAMA,” she yelled up the stairs, “Where you at?”

Her mom should have responded knowing Ivy was already anxious.  When she got no response, she jogged to the kitchen landline and there was no dial tone. She tried pushing random buttons and then she noticed that the chord had been cut. How long had it been that way?

“Fuck this shit,” she mumbled raising her gun to the kitchen door. “First thing that moves that isn’t my mama gettin popped. This some ol’ bullshit.”

Her finger sat on the trigger ready to fire off on anything that jumped out. Her ears were peeled and sharp as she stepped up quietly on the carpeted stairs.

At the top of the short staircase, Ivy peered down the short hall and peered into the first open bedroom door. A full laundry basket sat on the made up tan bed in the small room. That was the only thing she could point out. She moved forward pointing her gun into the bathroom finding it empty. She stared at the shower curtain before determining that there was nothing behind it. Moving forward, there was the hall closet with the towel shelves and one more door. If Renee’ wasn’t in there, the wasn’t anywhere else she could be. She stepped into the room and almost fired at the chair in front of her until she recognized the person slumped in it as her mom. Her heartrate spiked as she rushed to touch her still warm neck, checking for a pulse.

“She’s fine,” a low voice rasped from behind sending chills down Ivy’s back. She turned, whipping her gun to shoot and fired missing him by an inch as he dodged, firing his own gun. 

“Ah,” Ivy winced grabbing her shoulder.  “You fuckin psycho!”

She’d been shot in the shoulder and now she was really mad. She’d never been shot before and now she was beginning to feel foggy in the head. Through the pain, she aimed and hit him in the chest with two bullets watching him stumble back. He held his titty in his hand and winced, but he didn’t fall. Ivy sighed, her head suddenly feeling too light.

“Bad girl, Ms. Stevens,” he muttered with a slight shake of his head. “I came here to make you an offer.” He pulled his shirt over his head revealing thick, defined arms and a black vest.

“Bitch is that a bulletproof vest?! I’m done,” Ivy sighed throwing her uninjured arm in the air.

“It is.. and that was a loaded dart I hit you with. You’ll be out in about 30 seconds to 2 minutes–Listen. I won’t hurt anyone else, I just want you. Don’t make this difficult.”

“Yeah, Ivy. Don’t make this difficult,” a familiar second voice repeated.

“Didn’t I say stay in the car,” he snapped.

Ivy’s vision was doubled. She was seeing two of everything. Hoping she got the right one, she aimed her gun at the tiny woman and pulled the trigger before feeling herself hit the floor.

@youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @blackpantherimagine   @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe   @texasbama @gingerylimonte @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @drsunshine97 @indigoxsummers @cccccx1  @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @they-call-me-le @theblulife @sheisexcellent @blackpinup22

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8. iSpy

Ivy sat in the cold Patient First having been screened for drugs via a urine test. She’d have to wait 24 to 72 hours in order to get her results. For the first time, she hoped they came back positive.

“You gone thank me,” her mama, Renee’, said raising from her seat in front of the high-fixed television. It was set to HGTV and on commercial break.

“Mhm,” Ivy mumbled. She hadn’t wanted to go the legal route after she’d seen Dr. Stevens sidestep getting arrested and realized that the cards were truly stacked against her. She wanted to make sure that Dr. Stevens truly understood not to fuck with her. He didn’t seem to get that yet, but he would.

Ivy led the way through both sets of glass doors as she exited into the high heat to her silver Nissan, climbing into the driver’s seat and leaving her door open to start the car and turn on the A/C. Her black seat cover helped her from burning her ass on the leather.

“Why is it still so hot out here, oh my godd,” Ivy stressed. It was getting darker but the heat had not yet subsided. She was so tired of summer. The air was hot and thick, enough to drain a person, but her mom was truly from the south and hopped right into the passenger side closing the door, waiting for the A/C to circulate.

“It ain’t that hot. Yesterday was hot. Close the door, Ivy, you letting the cool air out.”

Ivy’s arms were rested on the wheel, but she moved, dragging to shut the door.

“Ma, I’m so mad. I can’t believe that nigga still allowed to practice after what he did. I can’t be the only one who knows this man is a psycho.” Sighing, she pulled out of the lot.

Renee’ didn’t respond right away, tapping on her phone. She was always on the phone with someone. If it wasn’t her brother in Florida asking for money, it was someone at her church wanting to talk or someone her job who wanted her to cook or come somewhere with them. Renee’ was the type to always be there for everyone even though she didn’t get anything back.

The car whipped down the road towards the Ruby Tuesdays with Ivy lost in her thoughts. She didn’t feel comfortable staying alone which is why she’d packed a bag and gotten escorted to her mom’s place. Of course her mom wanted to whoop ass. She all but chased Officer Howard off of her property. Ivy shook her head. She agreed with her mama, Officer Howard was a disgrace to black women and she too hoped she fell in a deep ditch and broke her ankle.

“What,” Renee’ asked. Ivy looked over before shaking her head again

“Nothing.” She hadn’t realized she was smiling. It made her feel justified having her mama on her side.

“Lord, if I knew it’d be some shit I’d have kept you in Florida,” Renee’ sighed, tapping on her phone. “I thought moving out here to Cali would’ve been an upgrade.”

“It was. It’s not your fault people are crazy, just a bad situation. I still can’t believe that bitch ain’t believe me. That’s why I hate the cops.”

“Child, if they ain’t murdering somebody, they ain’t doing shit and there’s no in between.”

The conversation continued and when the car pulled up at Ruby Tuesdays, Ivy hopped out and led the way inside getting a booth for two.

“I’ve got your drinks, do you need time to look over the menu,” the black waitress asked.

“We’re ready to order. I’ll take the ribs and crispy shrimp with dirty rice and mashed potatoes.”

“Uh uh, lil girl! Get a vegetable!” Renee’ peared over her glasses. Ivy ignored her, listening as she ordered the bourbon chicken with a sweet tea and no vegetables.

“You guys look just alike,” the waitress paused with a smile.

“My daughter,” Renee’ clarified. Ivy had gotten her eyes and her height from her, but honestly her brother was the one who looked most like her mama. The two of them had the same face, his eyes were just hazel instead. Plus, he was taller.

“So how you came across this fool? When did all this really start?”

“Mama I don’t know. That was the first time I’d ever seen him as far as I know, when I went in for my appointment. He had my information before then but that was it. I’d only spoken with his receptionist. I don’t know when or how or why he picked me as a target. That’s all I know.”

Renee’ stared as if Ivy wasn’t sharing everything, but shared what she knew. Ivy wished she had the answers, but she didn’t know what the dentist was playing at or if it was over. The ones who were supposed to help wouldn’t believe her. According to Officer Howard, she even needed evidence for a restraining order. She didn’t have it.

What she did have was a brain, two hands which knew how to swing, and a gun that she kept in the trunk. If it came down to it, she’d shoot his ass without blinking or thinking twice. She knew her mom would do the same.

Erik stepped from his home shower onto a white shower mat that turned blood red wherever water hit it. Right now it looked like there were two bloody footprints surrounded my droplets of blood. He loved that mat.

Wrapping his waist in a fluffy white towel, he looked himself over in the mirror grabbing his oil which sat under the sink on a gold colored tray next to a pristine metal pick and a bottle of Mane N’ Tail Conditioner. A little castor oil on his beard, hairline, and mustache and he was looking good and well-kept. Putting the oil back where he took it from, he adjusted it do that the Sunny Isle label faced forward. He was very particular about his belongings.

He picked up his iPhone from the sink scrolling to and opening a little blue app called iSpy. Luckily, Ivy hadn’t picked up on that fact that he’d installed it onto her phone or he may have been in a bit of trouble. The advertisements bragged on the app being undetectable. No matter how much Ivy searched through her device, she should never be able to find an indication of the app being there. Only he would know what he’d done and he’d have access to her 24/7.

Scrolling through the report of Ivy’s past locations, he felt a sense of giddy mischief, smiling faintly as he bit on his thumb nail. He saw the address of his office and a photo of the outside. She’d been outside while the officer was questioning him, he already was aware. Ivy had also gone home. Her address was there along with a photo of her neighborhood. He’d driven by there once or twice before she’d come in for her appointment, but of course she didn’t know that. He looked to see where else she’d been.

Her mother’s house. He sighed. He’d never been there. She kept involving more and more people. First the cops, now her mother. She was going to force his hand, he knew it and he was so, so intrigued.

“Trying to avoid me,” he mused aloud. “Won’t work.”

He scrolled down and saw a gas station and Patient First.

“SHIT,” he yelled exiting the app. He had to call Araya. Quickly his fingers dialed her cell phone number listening intently as the phone rang twice. “Araya,” he spoke when the line picked up.

“Dr. Stevens,” she purred. “You don’t typically call at this time unless you’re looking for a little post-work fun or someone to do your dirty work,” she spoke slyly. He could hear the smirk in her voice. She was going to need some tuning to put her back in her place.  “Which is it, doctor?”

“If you want a job tomorrow, you’ll cut the shit and go to the address I’m sending you. My latest toy decided to get smart. I’m sure you can put two and two together. Make sure that test gets lost quickly I’ll make it worth your while.”

“What ya gonna gimme,” she toyed.

This wasn’t the time for her to go against him or play games.

“Your life.. I’ll let you keep it despite the fact that I told you to watch her and you-”

“-Are in front of Patient First. As. We. Speak,"  Aren’t we, Draya?”

“Hey boss,” Draya spoke.

“Remember who the hell you’re dealing with, Erik,” Araya said boldly causing Erik’s eyes to narrow. She was laying it on thick and if it were a different circumstance, he’d be extremely turned on. “I’m your number one bitch and you’d better not forget it.”

The line went dead and he stared blankly at the phone.

“Hm,” he mumbled dropping his towel. The bathroom was warm enough. Phone in his palm, he swiped through his apps with his middle finger, tapping iSpy. He could see that Ivy had left a Ruby Tuesdays somewhere close to her mother’s home. It wasn’t hard to guess where she’d be staying.

@goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @blackpantherimagine   @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe   @texasbama @gingerylimonte @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @drsunshine97 @indigoxsummers @cccccx1  @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @they-call-me-le @theblulife @sheisexcellent @blackpinup22

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Part 7

Erik’s place was empty since his roommate was still out at the party. He opened the door and bumped around clumsily in the dark for the lights as Brit clung to him like an angry jungle cat threatening to knock him backwards. She impatiently pulled on his shirt stretching it out. She didn’t give a fuck about it being one of his good shirts, he noticed, so with a smack on her ass he pried her nails off and pushed her toward the little bedroom where his bed stood.

“Take allat off,” he directed, her low eyes watching him open a condom like a piece of meat on market. Without a thought, she stripped down to bare ass as though her clothes were on fire then like a magnet, her big body collided with his and she squeezed his waist forcing him to the bed.

“Damn Brit.” She was lowkey strong.

“Shut up and give me this dick. You know how I want it.”

She was more aggressive than usual pulling him out of his clothes and making him trip as she pulled his pants and briefs down before he could take his boots off. She snatched the condom to roll it on him herself. She even pulled his ass on top of her, grabbing his thighs as his dick slipped into her heat.

“Fuck,” he hissed as if he’d hurt himself but it was just that good. She ain’t even ask if he was okay.

There he was fucking her on his bed with his pants and briefs around his ankles and his Omega boots on, chain dangling in her face. And there was Brittany.. getting piped up on her back not giving a fuck about life as long as she got her nut.

“Shiet,” he whispered under his breath as she grabbed his ass pulling him deeper, her nails digging into his back and scratching him up.. making him kiss and fuck her harder. He swore he could see soundwaves. He could definitely see something.. Her unfiltered moans in his ear were like fire to a fuse ready to make him explode.. but then all the liquor.. he couldn’t cum like he usually would, he just kept pumping and getting sloppier, his rhythm unguessable.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed, panting beneath him as she bounced up against the bed. She was on her second wind, hands squeezing his biceps like stress balls, nails leaving marks he could feel.

“I know.”

“Erik,” she cried, close to cumming.

“Brittany,” he grunted feeling excited, his ass jumping up and down, digging her out.

“Don’t stop!”

“I know! ..Shid..” He kept his same stroke and just like the last time, she came giving him a moment to catch his breath through his nose. He sat up giving her a little air. “I wanna try something different. Flip over.”

“Mm-mm. I like it just like this.. Do it like you do it, baby, I love it..,” she begged pulling on his arms until he leaned his head down to kiss her lips. She wouldn’t let his arms go.

“Nah.. Flip over,” he whispered against her lips, rubbing his big ones over hers sloppily as she held onto him tightly.

When she didn’t move on her own, he rolled her onto her stomach, despite her strong attempt to stay face up. “Ass up,” he demanded. She complied wordlessly, her head in his pillow.

“Your pillow smell like sweat,” she snapped raising up to toss it across the floor. He snickered, balling his lips to hide his laugh.

“I sweat a lot,” he smirked kicking off his boots and pants fully. She layed back down with her cheek against her forearm, and he had to reign it back in. “Toot that big'ol ass up.” He popped her ass and sat back to watch the movement, finding new enjoyment.

“It’s up,” she rushed twerking it and as it wobbled he couldn’t complain.

“Put them arms out front I want you all the way down.” Her arms slid forward and her arch deepened as her ass popped up fuller. That was the vision he’d been waiting on, that almighty view. “Like that.”

He re-entered from the back, getting in his initial warm up strokes as he ran his palms up her ass to her hips. She could take them, it was perfect. Then he gripped them hips and smashed and instantly her body language changed, she popped up like he’d hurt her, her torso raising as she moved to her elbows.

“I’m hurting you?”

She ain’t respond so he paused.

“Keep going,” she whined so he dug.. and then dug a little deeper in that wetness feeling all her walls touch him. She flinched, pulling away but never fully off of him and his eyes fluttered in mild annoyance. He didn’t need the tease, he was fully passed that. He needed to be balls deep. He drove his dick in and she ran, her body moving up the small bed.

“The fuck you going?!” He held his palm flat on her back to push her and flatten her back out, keeping her in place, putting weight on her.

“Ssss,” she hissed before moaning into the sheet, beating it lightly with her fist. He’d seen this many times before, bitches tryna run from the dick. She whined as he held her down with his dick inside.

“I’m not about to chase you.”

That’s when the bright idea popped into his head. He still had that toy bag packed since he hadn’t used it on her that day and he hadn’t used it on anyone else, it was sterilized.

With a last look down, he hopped up to recover the bag pulling out a small pink vibrator. “Rub your pussy,” he commanded as he prepared the vibrator with a small amount of lube just to be safe. She was wet enough but wasn’t nothing wrong with extra slip. Watching her with her hand between her thighs, ass high, it was easy to wanna sit back to enjoy and not interrupt but he was on a mission.

Standing beside the bed, he stretched out the chord attached to the small little device before rubbing it over her clit and lower lips.

“Issat a vibrator?! When’s the last time you used it?”

“Calm down I sanitized it long time ago.”

“I'on’t trust your version of san-”

“Girl I damn near boiled it with the soap, lay yo ass down.”

It glided over her sensitive skin effortlessly and he pressed it into her opening, working it in so it wouldn’t slip out. It was wedged nicely… so he turned it on. Instantly she made sound and her body moved so he followed up with a line of kisses down her lower back to make her shiver before moving down further to suck on her hard clit. Meanwhile, he used two fingers on the vibrator cord to pinch, pulling it out just a little and pushing it back in as it vibrated. If this didn’t turn her out, he didn’t know what would.

Massaging her deep cocoa fleshy assmeat, he moved his kisses to pepper all over them, loving every second as he jiggled with his hands, her nectar clinging to his hand as he sweeped the exterior of her lower lips gently. He had to reach up and grip the back of her neck, leaning over her for her attention just so he could kiss her upper lips again in appreciation. She turned her head to meet his lips.

“Hhmmhm,” she whined like a lil baby as the vibrator went on, set to an unpredictable pattern.

“Put your hands behind you,” he prompted in his low silky tone. Instantly she obeyed and he stepped away to revisit the bag pulling the set aside cuffs. All of his kink purchases were well thought out and purposeful. Each item meant to allow maximum pleasure. One side at a time, he cuffed her wrists together behind her arched back and then walked to her side to pull the vibrator out. Immediately he stuck two fingers slowly inside of her to replace it and began to finger her the way he had before at her place when she loved it only this time from a different angle.

“Oh my god,” she grunted. He had to angle his fingers down a bit and soon he was fimgerfuckin the shit out of her, his arm moving quickly to summon that genie and that was it, she came on his fingers. He dropped again to get a small taste, his beard getting a little creamy as she sighed, relieved. It was good for her, but him, he still needed his nut. Walking back to the bag, he pulled the last item.. a ball gag that she rejected twice, turning her nose up before allowing him to put it on her. He swore it was all desanitized and clean.

Once that was done and she couldn’t talk with the ball fixed in her mouth, he moved to dick again, rubbing some her wetness on the condom. He wished he didn’t have to use it because she was definitely a creamer. Sliding Big Man back in that damp snug and slippery hole, he let it slip right in and she let out a loud noise that sounded unsure as she tried to move but she couldn’t. He had her with the cuffs.

“Stop tryna run,” he teased hearing her mumbled protests and high squeels as he finally let loose knocking into her with a force that made her ass wobble back as her hands flexed trying to block him. “Uh uh.. put em down,” he grunted as he went harder, her ass clapping off of him. She was definitely a runner, but the cuffs helped. Next he’d have to work toward buying the spreader bar. He could picture using it on her and he needed it.

Her protests turned to acceptance and her squeels turned to deep groans of pleasure the more he fucked the oasis she called a pussy. He zeroed in feeling her spasm. He was drowning and could feel her still cumming. How many times had she cum so far? A couple of them had been stacked so he didn’t remember. All he knew in the moment was that he was finally coming up on his. His grip returned to the back of her neck holding her down.

“I’m bout to cum bitch don’t you you go nowhere,” his voice wavered and finally he felt his release with a groan.. all up in the condom. He wanted to creampie but that didn’t seem likely. Still, he’d finally nutted as difficult as it was with all the liquor in his system. He swallowed and laid out over her body as her ass collapsed under his weight. He didn’t want to move.

Time went by. It must’ve been fifteen minutes. She mumbled and he remembered to take off the ball gag. It was covered in drool as was her chin. He’d forgotten all about her cuffs. Against his will, he got up to remove them and put them back in the bag and then he was back on top of her in the bed.

“Mmm, I’m finna go back to mine to sleep,” she murmured, voice light. 

“Shit, you ain’t got to. Sleep here.”

“Nah, I wanna be in my own room.”

“Sleep here..,” he reiterated still not wanting to move though she was buried beneath him. “We’ll get breakfast from the caf if we wake up.” He refused to get up and finally she caved.

“Whatever,” she sighed seconds before dozing off. He stared at her for a good minute and before he could realize it, he was sleep too.

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13. Close Your Eyes, Ivy

“We had a visitor, it seems,” Erik muttered returning to Ivy’s side in a smooth unhurried stroll. He was home free at least until the next threat, which he figured.. would be a while. He had days before he needed to worry about it. With a spray bottle of water and a black towel in hand, he looked on the young and delightful Ms. Stevens strapped by red rope to his french chaise. She had gotten a bit of blood on it, but it was a nice contrast. A nice picture in totality. He covered the ornate work on her thigh with the black towel and pressed down, holding her thigh firmly to stop the bleeding.

“That officer,” he sighed. “The one you called?” Her eyes brightened briefly with recognition. “Yeah, her. She’s a idiot.”

The roll of her eyes showed that she agreed and Erik smirked.

“Can you believe… the bitch came here to investigate me, yet she actually drank what the fuck I gave her?”

He had to laugh at that. Ivy didn’t laugh, but she had to have found it as funny as he did. The whole thing was ridiculous. The police come just to end up captive by the nigga they came to question.

“You can’t write shit like this,” he laughed, his weight still on her thigh.

“Tell me, who does that shit? Oh yeah.. You.”

Her eyes stared ahead. Though verbally she was unresponsive, her body could not block its reactions and neither could her face. He put a little more pressure on the towel not missing her expression as she tried her best to control it. Pain was what she felt.

“Hold on Little Ivy,” he smiled. “Almost done.”

After putting pressure on her thigh for a few minutes, he lifted the towel. “Typically, I’d suggest stitches for cuts like these but nah.. these are too pretty. Let’s let it air out a minute,” he said walking slowly to take a seat on a couch facing her.

She didn’t look well. Her face, it looked tired as though she were exhausted, dehydrated, low in energy. He decided to let her rest a few minutes more, saying nothing as she stared at him. He simply stared back as he sat on the couch.

Her eyes began to droop as he stared, wide awake. After another minute, her eyes shut and held. He counted one, two, three, four.. before her green and red eyes popped open again focusing warily on his. They struggled to stay, even crossing, and he sighed, not getting enjoyment from it at all.

“Close your eyes, Ivy,” he commanded standing to his feet. She needed a few hours of rest at the least. He much preferred her to be awake and aware for their games. In the meantime, he could be starting on another set of custom grillz.

Heading out of his living room, he shit the soundproof door leaving her in there. Should she call, he had the monitor on where he could see and hear her. Until then, he had another creative hobby to attend to.

“Oh.. Look whose finally coming to,” a thick Carribean accent came through the haze as Trinity’s head pounded and pulsed.

“Where the hell am I,” she blinked noticing that she was on the floor on her back looking up at a ceiling. She wanted to panic, but training had taught her to remain calm in uncertainty. Turning her head, the ache was like a mallet pounding ice, but the ice was her head. There was an older woman sitting proudly on a couch with a glass in hand, legs crossed and staring in disapproval.

“Funny how the tables turn,” she glared taking a sip before waving her hands in anger. “If you’d just done your job to start with wouldn’t NONE of us be in this mess! You put my daughter at risk,” she pointed. “And now Lord knows what’s happened to her.” Her face turned glum as she rolled her eyes looking away.

Trinity rolled herself onto her side gingerly and hoisted her body, resting on her arms. Finally upright, she was able to right herself completely and stand, wavering on her feet. She sighed before addressing the angry older woman. “Mrs. Stevens..,” she recalled feeling the back of her head. She checked her hand. No blood. The woman’s green eyes were memorable. The family resemblance was strong.

“You shoulda died right on that floor.”

“The way I feel, Ms. Stevens, I might have,” Trinity retorted. She felt horrible like she’d been hit by a bus. Groaning, she held the sides of her head tightly. “I always knew liquor would be the death of me..”

“You’re a damn addict.”

“No, Mrs. Stevens, I’m an alcoholic. My job is very stressful… As you can see,” she gestured to the room they were enclosed in. Though clean and stocked, it was indeed a prison.

“No, officer. You’re a glorified idiot with a badge is what you are and your damned reckless stupidity is gonna get us all killed.”

Trinity glared. The woman didn’t seem so Christian with all the venom she was spewing, but Trinity could understand. She was angry for good reason. That’s as far as Trinity planned to go down that train of thought.

“Attacking me isn’t gonna solve the issue. We need to find a way out of here.” Checking her sides and pockets, she patted her body down for some sort of communication. Some item. Anything that could be useful. She came up empty-handed, sighing as she looked at the unimpressed Mrs. Stevens, who did nothing but take another sip of whatever liquid was in her cup.

“You think I didn’t try that already,” Mrs. Stevens scoffed. “Gal, I searched your tall behind hours ago. That lil nappy headed boy done took everything ya got.”

“What can you tell me about what you’ve experienced with him? Any weaknesses? Accomplices? How often does he come back here? How long have you been here?”

“If you think.. I’m counting on you for anything.. you are out of your wretched mind.”

Trinity looked at Mrs. Stevens face that was set in stone. She was on her own in figuring a way out. She needed a way to make it to her vehicle.

“Look,” Trinity’s chin dropped. She was serious, catching Mrs. Stevens eyes to make sure she understood. “When he comes in here, I need to get out of here and get to my cruiser. If I can do that, I can call backup and then we can save your daughter.”

“Now why wouldn’t you call backup when investigating an abduction and claims of attempted murder from the start? Hm? Ask yourself that, Ms. Hot in the Pants? What type of police work is that?” She kissed her teeth. “Oh, what, you thought you’d somehow dazzle him with your rugged looks? Turn him somewhat-normal? The foolishness in this girl, Lord,” she whispered, eyes shut.

Trinity looked down briefly out of respect.

“Yeah. I could’ve brought backup initially..” She made eye contact again. “But-”

“There is no but. You should’ve brought backup! You were cocky and thought you had it. Ain’t no further explaining need to be done. Now I’m sick of hearing from you. If I see an opportunity, I’m taking it.”

“Ain’t no opportunity,” Erik announced through the speaker he’d installed in the room. The both of them jumped looking about the room. Meanwhile, he shook his head. They didn’t understand their predicament but they’d be well cared for. As long as they didn’t fuck up. Particularly, Mrs. Stevens. She had produced a fine specimen afterall. The officer, he had to think about.

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