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The Violin Pt. 01

By: brownbeauty



 All characters in this story are age 18 and above. Part 1 contains no sex, but is useful for setting the context of the later installments.

*****

Kaine pushed open the door to the last compartment on the late train. Finally! He'd spent hours going through the cars, carefully nonchalant, seeking her face. Now that he found it, though, he allowed his gaze to gloss right past her. He slumped into a seat across the aisle, in a sudden pitch-black mood. Happy birthday to me, he thought. He no longer deluded himself with hopes that they might strike up a conversation—it was clear Kendra had completely erased him from her mind. 

Man up, he chided himself. It really wasn't unthinkable that she wouldn't recognize him; it had been seven years, and rough ones at that. He was clawing his way out of the hole—or was it deeper in? He couldn't tell anymore. All he knew was that he wasn't on the bottom anymore. He'd risen from foot soldier to enforcer to lieutenant, and now on the outside, was a respected member of a very disreputable organization. But they had saved his ass when he had no one to watch his back, so who was he to judge?

Time had been much kinder to her. She was quite stylish, and not in the artsy way she'd been in high school. Her look now whispered money. The silky blouse and camel-colored skirt were a conservative length, but the slim cut showcased her curves, and freshly straightened hair swung down her back, emphasizing a sexier, more confident walk. Still, her smile held that same touch of vulnerability that pierced him the first time they met. Every detail of that year was seared in his memory.

***

Sunlight streamed through the window of Keith's bedroom. It was really just an uninsulated shed someone had slapped onto the side of the house decades ago, but the teen kept it immaculate. A plastic milk crate held jeans rolled up like newspapers, his faded black trench hung from a nail on the plywood wall. He squinched his eyes against the brightness, but it did no good. 

"Come on, dude," he muttered, pushing himself off a pallet of old cushions, the couch they came from long gone. Yesterday his neighbor Lacy had told him school was starting. She kept him on track about these things, though she'd graduated ten years ago. He filled a bucket from a hose connection and did his morning ritual: brush teeth; wash face, pits and crotch; and hit the deodorant. He ran his fingers through thick, unnaturally black hair. A little greasy, but so what? He washed it once or twice a week at Lacy's, but he'd never make it to school on time if he stopped for a shower over there. She always found an excuse to get in.

On his way out, he stopped to check the fridge. It was a habit, like checking the coin return on vending machines and pay phones. Never anything there, but you might get lucky. Today, just a couple forlorn soldiers in a battered Natty Light case. He slipped one in his coat for lunch.

"Where the hell you think you're going?" 

Keith started. He hadn't seen Ronald Everett lurking in the shadows of the dark living room. 

"School, dad." 

Ronald scoffed. "Pussy. When I was your age, I was making cash and getting ass." 

"Yeah, dad."

"Guess you're gonna fuck off to college and turn queer."

"Yeah, dad." Keith dug out his key, unlocking the front door as fast as he could.

"What the fuck did you say?" Ronald took a few scuffling steps toward him but it was too late. Keith was on the porch and bounding down the steps. "You owe me a beer, you sonofabitch!"

Keith started up his '82 Ford Fairlane and slipped in his earbuds. Death metal filled his world. He'd bought the car working at the gas station over the summer. It was a five-mile walk both ways and a bitch in the rain, but so worth it. Keith spent weeks banging out dents, sanding off rust, painting it black and cleaning up the interior. It was still a beater, but it was beautiful to him. 

He was a senior this year. It was his last year of school, and it was going to be a good year. He could feel it. Millville, New Hampshire was a blue-collar town of about 3,000 people, unremarkable except for its proximity to a state prison, a Pepsi bottling plant and a state college about 40 minutes away. Everyone ended up at one of the three. Not many at the last.

Keith was a gifted young man, but he often felt splintered in different pieces. He aced advanced classes effortlessly, but no one in those classes associated with him, or he them. He was, after all, an Everett: redneck royalty—his dad a regular at the drunk tank and both of his uncles doing hard time for murder. Keith had a reputation for the same bad temper. In middle school, he'd beaten a classmate unconscious. The little shit had started it, not knowing when to shut up about Keith's mother, but no one had listened to him, and the incident firmly secured his place amid his family's reputation. Townspeople regarded the sullen man-child in an old trench coat as a 6-foot-3 ticking time bomb.

It amazed him how many of their daughters seemed to like that. Girls like Tricia, who wore the tightest jeans imaginable and her body weight in mascara, and the cheerleaders, popular girls who wouldn't speak to him at school but developed emergencies at parties and suddenly needed a ride home. He obliged them all, and kept condoms in the glove box for just such occasions.

Keith parked his car in the school lot, then leaned against a brick wall at the front entrance, looking for a friendly face. Soon enough, he spotted one. 

"Sup, Ray? Lemme get one of those."

The red-headed 17-year-old sucked his dwindling cigarette and leaned back to take an exaggerated look at Keith. Braces glinted in his mouth when he spoke, contrasting with his wispy moustache. 

"Damn, man, you grow another foot since last week?" He tapped two out his soft pack, chain-lighting another for himself.

"That's what your mom said," Keith joked. He had grown four inches over the summer. Sometimes he didn't recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror.

"Thass OK," Ray talked with the cigarette tucked tightly in the corner of his mouth, something Keith greatly admired. "When you get that NBA money, remember who made you a man. Speaking of which," his eyes strayed over a clutch of freshman girls passing by. 

One smiled at Keith, before reddening and glancing away. Her friends hugged in on her, giggling as they walked off.

Ray watched their retreat. "I hate to graduate this year. These are the best years of my life, goddamn! "

Keith looked unimpressed. "You sound like a dirty old man."

"You mean you ain't gonna hit that? She wants you, man."

"She's just a freshman. It's not even a challenge."

"I know! At that age, they're like Helen Keller: deaf, dumb and fine."

Keith cracked up, then stiffened as a stick-thin blonde separated from the crowd. 

"Nah, man, I have enough trouble with crazy stalker bitches as it is," Keith griped. 

"Where you been, Keith? I called you all last night." Tricia had a sharp voice, sharp nails and sharp eyes. With her feathered-back hair, he wondered if she was deliberately going for a bird of prey look.

"Around," he said vaguely, pushing off from the wall. "Look babe, I still have to pick up my schedule and everything. I'll get with you later. OK?" 

Something of her pointiness softened. "Make sure you do," Tricia pouted. "Ray, I know you got another square for me." 

Keith made it to college-prep English just before the bell rang, and Ms. Pinkerton frowned but pointed him to an assigned seat. The class was full of the same nerds and preppy kids as last year—one of the downsides to attending a small school. He was preparing to doze off when the door cracked open and an alien descended among them. 

Her thick hair was pulled back into a huge afro puff, and a hand-printed looking t-shirt hugged her curvy figure. Her skin was cocoa with a dash of cayenne, like Mexican hot chocolate. Pinkerton introduced her to the class, but he barely heard her. He was too busy gawking like the rest of the idiots. Following the teacher's direction, Kendra took the seat ahead of his with a halting, "Hi." Her eyes were big, like she was unsure he would return the simple greeting. 

"Hey," he returned with a small smile. "So...you new?"

"How'd you guess?" she deadpanned. Keith liked her immediately.

"If you're aiming to fit in, you're doing it wrong."

She giggled at the tall white boy with pretty eyes. "I take it you're an expert."

"Not quite," he grinned. "Besides, why the hell would you want to fit in here?"

"Mr. Everett," Ms. Pinkerton's voice sliced the air, "could you please allow our new student to pay attention? Some of us are preparing for college." 

"Ouch," Kendra mumbled. 

Keith spent the rest of the class studying her crown-like hairstyle and the way her brown skin shimmered with a million points of pinks, yellows, greens and blues. A thin silver chain snaked just above her collar, at the bend of her neck. What charm was lucky enough to dangle between those breasts? He suppressed a groan at the thought. 

Kendra was already sitting in the chair in front of his when he jogged into Calculus II. When Mr. Wimbley directed Kendra to his table in Advanced Chemistry, Keith had already saved her a seat. Their last names, Evans and Everett, ensured their seating assignments would always be close. He hooked his foot around the chair leg, teasing her. She had to tug at it twice to pull it out. She punched his arm.

"Ow!"

"Don't be a baby, you deserve it."

Keith rubbed the bruise under his coat sleeve, a souvenir from his dad's latest binge.

"Hello to you, too." 

They talked more in the lab, and after the last bell Keith walked with Kendra to her locker, ignoring a few stares in the hallway. Kendra and her parents had moved to blue-collar Millville from Concord. Even New Hampshire's capital city didn't have many black people, but in Millville, she, her mom and her dad doubled the town's African-American population. Missy, Tricia's best friend, scowled as they passed.

"Fan of yours?" Kendra asked.

"Not anymore. We should get together and study sometimes, since we have so many classes together," Keith said. He leaned over her, scrutinizing her reaction. He hoped she was down to mess around. 

Kendra took her time packing her book bag. "Okay," she said after a time. "Maybe at the library? But not tonight. We have family plans and my dad is kind of strict."

Keith smiled; those were the best ones. "At least let me ride you home." 

She quirked her brow at his intentionally dirty phrasing. "If you mean give me a ride, sure."

"What else would I mean?" Keith passed Ray by the doors and nodded to Ray's low thumbs-up. 

In the parking lot, he led the way to the matte-black Ford, opening the passenger door for her. 

"Fancy," she remarked, sliding onto the canvas seat cover. As they drove to the outskirts of town, Swedish death metal blasting, Keith stole glances at her from the corner of his eye. He thought the music would shock her, but she seemed to be fighting laughter. Finally, he cut the volume. 

"What's so funny?"

"He said, 'God is a pig-fucker,'" Kendra giggled. "You know you're into heavy shit when your god fucks pigs."

"You speak Swedish? How?" he asked in disbelief. 

"We go skiing there almost every year. I've picked some up."

"Nerd!" he coughed into his hand. He turned onto a private road.

"Not saying you're a stalker or anything, but how do you know the way to my house?" 

"Everybody knows this house." Keith pulled into the demi-lune driveway and whistled. "Now, who's fancy?"

A modern, impressive work of steel and stone, the home stood out from the farmhouses in the area as a masculine, yet elegant work of art. The house had taken two years to build, with the whole town speculating what the new, rich neighbors would be like. It shocked them all to see a black family move in. 

"My dad designed it," Kendra said. "He's opening a branch of his firm near State, but he always wanted a country house. That—" she jabbed a finger toward the structure — "is the entire reason I'm in this charming little burg." 

"Moving senior year's gotta suck. I know your boyfriend was sad," Keith fished. 

Kendra rolled her eyes. Having a boyfriend requires a dad who doesn't turn psycho when I'm around the opposite sex, she thought. "Yeah," she said aloud.

Keith slowed to a stop and her parents came out on the porch. Damn, they were strict. Kendra unsnapped her seatbelt, but stayed seated for a second. 

"Well, thanks for the ride." 

"You're welcome. Should I meet your folks?" 

Kendra looked unsure. "Uhh, okay." 

They approached the porch. 

"Mom, Dad, this is Keith, from school. I missed the bus so he gave me a ride today." 

Mr. Evans was a tall, light-skinned man in his mid-50s, and impressively built around the shoulders. Kendra's mom was the opposite, short and dark and very attractive, with a neat, very low haircut that accentuated her fine bones.

"It's nice to meet you, Keith," Mrs. Evans said, ushering Kendra into the house. 

Mr. Evans only grunted. The women barely got in the door before Mr. Evans slammed it in his face. "Kinda strict" was an understatement.

Kendra's parents carefully balanced her life to consist of academics, cultural activities and philanthropic interests. She volunteered at a women's shelter twice a month and interned every summer at a prestigious Chicago law firm where one of her mom's college pals was a partner. At 18, she'd been through four passport books. Her parents-especially Mr. Evans-tried to give her a wide exposure to the world while protecting her from most of its ills. Kendra's dad was a dragon, his black princess guarded, guided and carefully monitored. And he wanted no white knights at the gate.

***

"I swear to God, one of these days I'm going to fucking kill him."

Kendra barely recognized the voice at the other end of the line. It was a warm spring night, and she'd passed out after a couple hours of capoeira practice.

"Keith, what happened?"

"What happened?" Keith's laugh was a hard snort. "Thursday happened. MGD happened. What d'you think happened?" 

"How bad is it?"

"It hurts to cough or pee, but I'll live." Keith laughed a little, but that hurt, too. "The old bastard's getting soft. He practically passed out mid-swing." Suddenly, the anger drained out of Keith's voice. "I'm so tired. When he wants to push me around, there's no way out. If he wants to hit something, he hits something. It doesn't even matter." His voice was strained. "I didn't do shit, Kendra. I didn't." 

"I know you didn't, babe. It's not your fault." Kendra felt so helpless. For months, she'd been a listening ear, but she couldn't see a way out of Keith's hellish life without breaking the silence. 

Keith's body was a map of constant brutality: white scars, ugly yellow bruises and raw, red fist prints. He was young and strong, but his father was a mean drunk, and years of jail stints had made him a vicious fighter. Over the months, she'd seen a pattern emerge in the cycle of abuse, and the timing of this latest beating left her shaking with anger.

"It's the scholarship. You've got the interview Saturday with the William Mead board. That's what set him off." 

"Ohh, right. I forgot about that." 

"Every time something important comes up, he finds a reason to fuck with you. Mid-term exams, the SATs, now the scholarship board. Why does he hate it so much when you do well?"

"Because 'school's for pussies,' and if I'm going to run off to college and be a faggot he won't have anybody saying I learned it at home. I can't take this shit anymore, Kendra. One of these days, I'm going to blow his fucking head off." 

"Just hold on," she begged. "You're almost at the finish line. Two more months and we'll be traveling the world. And then we go to State in the fall. You'll never have to see him again." 

Against his will, Keith was drawn into Kendra's story, a familiar fairy tale she recounted whenever things seemed too hard to take. A smile peeked out, despite his split lip. "Where are we going, again?"

Kendra warmed to her favorite topic. "First, we'll head out to California. We'll camp in Redwood National Forest and see those huge, tall trees, big enough to drive through. Then we'll drive down the coast and see the wild seals of Big Sur. And you'll love L.A. You haven't lived until you had Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles."

"Chicken and waffles? That sounds crazy," he laughed.

"Oh, my melanin-challenged friend, you just don't know; your mouth is about to experience a life-changing event."

"Then where?" Keith glanced at his watch, 1:14 a.m., and tried to get more comfortable on the wooden porch. It was hot in his small house, and while his dad had passed out after his earlier rage, Keith's nerves were still jangled. He turned gingerly on the splintery deck, favoring his battered ribs, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Without Kendra, he didn't think he could bear it.

"Then we'll drive through Arizona and see the adobe villages and the mountains. The red rocks of West Texas, then New Orleans. Jazz bars, cemetery tours, crawfish etouffee—"

"Crawfish who?"

"Look, don't ask questions, just put it in your mouth."

"I've been saying that for months," he teased. 

"Great, next time I need to floss, I'll call you. Anyway, I was thinking we'd take a flatboat down the bayou. You should be able to understand patois. It's just like French, and since you're the expert—"

"French II, big whoop."

"The only thing worse than egoism is fake modesty. You tested out of it for college, so enough, brainiac." Kendra's giggle morphed into a yawn.

"Takes one to know one," Keith replied softly. He shifted on his pallet, listening Kendra's breaths deepen over the phone. She was dozing. He pictured her on her back with her eyes closed, cushioned by clouds of dark hair, all candy bar skin, full breasts and soft lips. She was different from most everyone he'd ever known. He tried not to think about her when he was with other girls, but it was hard. They never read, hadn't been anywhere, didn't have stories to tell or hips curved perfectly for grabbing ahold of. He would've given anything to be there with her in the dark. 

But there were a thousand barriers to that, the biggest of which was probably her dad. Mr. Evans protected Kendra like a junkyard dog. He didn't like Keith's dyed-black hair, his banged-up Ford Fairlane, his white trash family or his audacity in befriending Kendra. 

But they'd grown together as only outcasts can. She'd gotten him into reading about Native American revolutionaries, since he claimed a bit of heritage, and he had her listening to metal. They talked on the phone nightly and he was dropping her home every day. 

That's how she figured out the abuse. After a while, he'd simply run out of lies for the tender bruises and sprained arms. She'd confronted him, but still cried when he first admitted it; angry, silent tears. It was a mystery to him that she would be so affected. 

"Does anyone else know?" she'd asked. 

"Everybody knows," he answered. "But you can't mess it up by reporting me." 

The situation at home was near unbearable, but removal from his home would mean school interruptions, loss of freedom and maybe even jeopardize his scholarship chances. At least when his dad wasn't swinging on him, he could do whatever the hell he pleased. 

"I'll keep quiet," Kendra agreed, "but on one condition. We take pictures; we document your injuries. Starting tomorrow."

The next day, he walked past her living room for the first time. Her parents were out at dinner, and they were in her bedroom. Kendra seemed nervous, though she tried mightily to hide it. 

"Do you want to do homework?"


The Violin Pt. 01



He looked at her scornfully. "Since when do we do homework?"

She had to laugh. "Not until five minutes before it's due, anyway," she admitted. 

Keith pulled off his shirt unceremoniously, baring a lean, muscled chest and broad shoulders, and Kendra had to catch her breath. Her heartbeat went into overdrive. She was grateful to have the camera to hide behind. The lens seemed to love Keith, capturing his thick, curly lashes and stormy eyes that right now, were laser blue. His lips were plumper than they had any right to be. She scolded herself, remembering the purpose of the photos, and concentrated on close-ups of his scars.

Kendra took about a dozen pictures before stopping to fiddle with a task light, to get the brightest angle possible on his bare pecks. Keith took a break and slouched back on her window seat, his long, blue-jeaned legs splayed impolitely as he surveyed her lair. For some reason, he'd imagined her inner sanctum would be all pinks and whites—not that she was lame, but, well, she was so obviously a virgin. Instead it was surprisingly sensual. Richly colored pillows drowned her bed, and a wall of black and white photography included the curve of some buttocks and a single beautiful breast. He stopped before that framed photo.

"Is this yours?"

Kendra's mouth felt unnaturally dry. She puttered around on her desk, gathering her composure. 

"You mean the shot or the subject?"

"Either."

"Yes. Both."

Keith walked up behind her, looking over the other test shots on her desk.

"It's beautiful."

She flushed at the compliment, feeling foolish. But damn, was his body tight! 

"Okay, under the light," she ordered, coming in close to detail the bruising where his dad had twisted his arm. She snapped a few shots. An ugly pattern of fists, fading from green to yellow, bloomed up his back. Kendra traced them in wonder.

"When was this?"

"Last week," Keith said nonchalantly. 

"Turn. Raise your arms."

She was different, he noticed, when she was taking pictures. More confident and businesslike. 

"You like taking these pictures, don't you?" he asked in an odd, off-hand way.

"No! That would be sick." 

He stepped closer to her and took the camera out of her hands. "I don't mean the scars. I mean, you like photographing me. You like looking at my body."

"It's aiight, I guess, from an artistic standpoint." Kendra felt prickles of sweat start at her temples, belying her breezy tone. Butterflies were having a party in her stomach. She tried to sidestep him, to get some space, but he blocked her at every turn. 

"Move! What's your deal?"

"Relax." He bent near her ear, until she could feel his breath on her neck. He was so close, his lips brushed her earlobe, and she couldn't control a tiny shiver. His voice was dangerously soft. She'd heard about this; the Everett charm. The men of Keith's family had a reputation for more than volatile tempers. They could talk the panties off a nun, and the rumor around the girls' locker room was that Keith had heavy equipment and knew how to use it. 

"I appreciate you taking the pictures, I really do. I just don't see why you get to have all the fun. Pose for me. Let me take a picture of you," he wheedled.

He turned her around to face the mirror on her dresser as he spoke, and their eyes met in the reflection. It was strangely erotic to see him towering over her from behind. His left hand casually lifted the hem of her tee, exposing her belly button, and he snapped the shot.

"What are you doing? Stop!" Then, "What if someone sees it?" 

"No one's gonna see." He turned the camera so she could see the picture. Framed between the mirror and his shirtlessness, her raw emotions were exposed. The contrast of his hand on her stomach was terribly sexy. She looked apprehensive yet curious, and something more: aroused. He'd captured a look she hadn't known she possessed. It was erotic, exciting, and she wanted more.

"It can't get out," she murmured. 

"Never. We'll delete them soon as we're done." 

She bit her lip, deliberating. "How should I pose?"

"Any way you like." 

She looked down shyly and he gently tugged her shirt off one shoulder. This time, the camera caught his own look of desire. Kendra felt a thrill of power looking at the picture, really seeing for the first time how she affected a man. As the shoot went on, she gradually grew bolder, until she felt tipsy with confidence. She stepped away from the mirror and, turning her back to him, removed her top and bra simultaneously, the way she'd seen a girl do in a movie. She turned to face him, cupping her naked breasts. Their full curves spilled around the confines of her hands.

"Only from behind," she stipulated. But when Kendra looked into Keith's eyes, she wondered if she had gone too far. 

He was staring at her, his arm shaking at his side. He had to will himself under control. Be happy she's gone this far, he scolded himself. He wanted her so badly. If it were any other girl, he knew, he would've been very busy for the next half hour. But Kendra wasn't any other girl; she wasn't Tricia, or Lacy, or one of the cheerleaders. She was gentle and she was his friend. Though he was hard enough to break glass, he forced his voice to some semblance of normalcy. 

"Okay, stand by the window."

She obeyed, facing away from him, and he snapped. The photos showed sunlight spilling down her smooth, graceful back, over the swell of her ass in a perfect figure eight. He couldn't resist; he laid a single kiss at the nape of her neck, then held the camera over her shoulder to show her. The interplay of shadow and light made the pictures almost abstract. His hands surged around to cover hers over her breasts.

"See? Beautiful," he murmured, eyes closed. "You're like a perfect violin."

She turned and hugged him, and he could feel her breasts crush against him. His hands traced the racetrack curves of her back and hips, then seemingly of their own accord floated up to massage the sides of her titties. He was feverish for her, and ducked down to kiss her, but she turned her head. 

"You better get going. My parents will be home soon."

"God, can I at least see them?" he begged. He felt like his dick would burst out of his jeans.

"No, because that won't be enough." She grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head, giving him the briefest glimpse of her nipples, bare and glorious. "For me or you. Now, go!"



The Violin Pt. 02



***

Keith's father referred to the Evanses as those rich niggers, which infuriated Keith, but reflected the attitude of most of Millville toward them: suspicious, hostile and more than a little envious. Keith knew why, because he felt it every time he rang Kendra's doorbell: the Evanses, in every way that counted, were simply, glaringly better than the rest of them. It was like the Cosbys moved to Hazard County.

"Morning, Mr. Evans."

"Keith. Come in," Robert Evans stepped aside to allow Keith into the huge foyer. The living room was all white: white walls, white carpet, white Italian leather seatees. It provided a clean backdrop for a dynamic art collection that impressed and cowed the viewer all at once. Even when the weather was sunny and dry as a bone, Keith always felt like he'd tracked in mud on the immaculate rug.

"So, Kendra tells me you got accepted to State."

"Yessir, we'll be freshmen together." 

"Oh, I don't know about that quite yet," Mr. Evans replied. "I'm still trying to convince her to go Black Ivy, Spelman or Howard." 

Keith gave a neutral shrug. "She can get into any school in the world," he said.

"Yes, that's what I've been telling her! The opportunities are endless, if you forge relationships with the right people during your formative years."

Mr. Evans's emphasis on "the right people" stung a bit; Keith highly doubted that, in her dad's mind, he qualified. 

Just then, Kendra appeared at the top of the stairs wearing white shorts. Step by step, more of her sculpted legs came into view. A long waist led up to high, round C-cups, angelic dimples, and twin Mickey Mouse afro puffs. Idiots at school called her hair nappy, but he thought of it as fizzy. Shiny little curls swirling upwards in the air like bubbles of Coca-Cola. A wolfish grin spread across his face.

"Kendra! Those bottoms are too short—get right back up to your room and change now!" her dad barked. 

"Dad! I'm running late as it is!"

"What did I say?"

Without further protest, Kendra turned around and stomped back upstairs. Keith watched her plump behind bounce away, then jumped when he realized Mr. Evans was glaring at him.

"Yessir?"

"Since you're already here, Kendra will ride with you to school today. But Keith, don't trouble yourself tomorrow. In fact, I'll be driving her for the remainder of the school year."

Keith's mind spun. They couldn't ride together anymore? "I don't mind, sir. It's nice to have some intelligent conversation to start the day."

"My thoughts exactly. I'd like a little early time with my daughter."

Just then, Kendra was back at the stairs in boyfriend jeans and a loose-necked orange tank top. She approached them and did a half-turn.

"Better, Father?" It was as sarcastic as she dared get. 

"That top's a little low-cut, but I guess you pass muster. See you tonight, kiddo." The father hugged his daughter with genuine affection and kissed her forehead, then watched from the door as they piled into Keith's old Ford.

Maria hugged her husband from behind, pleasantly surprising him. At 5"3', she was shorter and thicker than her daughter, but definitely where Kendra got her stacked figure. After 20 years of marriage, one look at his wife could still get his heart racing. 

"I thought you were burning through some last-minute work in the office," he said, turning to kiss her.

"I was, but I overheard your conversation with Keith. What's this about you taking Kendra to school in the mornings? I thought that was our alone time."

"When you're home, it is," he teased. "But I had to. I don't like the way that boy looks at my daughter."

Her laugh was low and warm, like whiskey and honey. "Kendra's a beautiful young lady. Even out here in the wild, boys are going to notice."

"White boys," Marvin Evans grumbled. "They don't have a record of the most self-control around our women."

"Is that what you're concerned about? Keith is Kendra's best friend! And he's a nice boy, in spite of his family. You make him sound like some kind of rapist!"

"I don't put anything past these folks. Yes, I know!" He held up a hand to silence her. "He's a smart kid and respectful and all of that. But I was 18 once too, and I know what he's thinking when he looks at my baby girl. I can't wait for Kendra to go off to school, in part just to get her away from his narrow behind."

He paused, wanting to erase the disagreeable look on his wife's pretty face. "I don't want to talk about that. How about a little 'alone time' right now?" 

He kicked the front door closed with his foot, his wife's giggle music to his ears.

Kendra snuck sidelong glances at Keith as he drove. He wore his daily uniform: black t-shirt, jeans and beat-up boots. His hair curled past the collar of the trench coat he wore even in summer. A sprinkling of stubble in his true blondish-brown shade gave him a devil-may-care look. She wanted to touch it. Instead,

"You are so pale. I think you're allergic to sunshine."

"What can I say? Us poor devils had to hide in caves, cursed by the sun."

Kendra busted out laughing. "I should've never let you read my dad's Final Call!"

Keith laughed too. "It changed my life! Nobody knocks the Minister in my ride! Seriously, some of the Nation's beliefs make sense. Women are supposed to serve the man, the natural head. You should be more submissive."

"What makes you think I'm not?"

Her mischievous tone put all sorts of thoughts in his head. Keith gazed over at her and realized her dad was right; that top was too low-cut. Her perky tits peeked out of the wide, deep neckline alluringly. 

"Keep talking like that and we're gonna be REAL late to school," he warned.

"Whatever," she thumped him. "How was Ronald this morning?" 

Keith grimaced at his father's name. "Satanic hangover. Nothing a couple breakfast beers can't fix."

She stroked the back of his hair, and he resisted the urge to close his eyes and savor it. "I hope his head explodes," she said. "I can't wait till we graduate and get out of there. I'd have called protective services a long time ago if it didn't mean I'd never see you again."

"Selfish."

"I know." Kendra raised up on her knees in the front seat, leaning her torso out of the window. "Don't tell anyone," she announced, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops on her jeans. She tugged them down her hips, revealing the tiny white shorts.

"Damn," Keith hissed, watching her ass rock from side to side. "You're not going to be able to pull these shenanigans when your dad starts taking you to school."

"What are you talking about? You're quitting as my chauffeur?"

"Getting fired. That's what Robert said this morning." Keith tried to keep the disappointment from his voice as they pulled into the school lot. "He wants more time to convince you of the benefits of hanging around the right people. I don't meet the criteria." 

"You've got plenty of company. Dad doesn't think anyone from Millville is good enough."

Keith walked Kendra to gym, one of the few classes they didn't share. Among the snob, nerd, jock, sheep and country bumpkin cliques, the Afrocentric overachiever and the metal-head burnout made a strange couple, but they no longer drew strange looks. Before they parted ways, Kendra grabbed Keith's hand. 

"I'm going to the library after school. Think you can give me a ride home?"

"Sure. You working on a project?"

"Not really. I just don't want to go straight home tonight."

"Me neither. It'll be our last day of riding together," he said, hoping his face wasn't as flushed as it felt. "We should have a little party."

"Okay," she said. "Where?"

Keith bit his lip to stop smiling. "Let me surprise you." 

In the rowdy locker room, groups of girls talked loudly in varying stages of dress. Few were louder than Amber, whose locker was directly across from Kendra's. The redhead's breasts bobbed freely as she regaled a group of followers and anyone in earshot with details of a party she'd been to over the weekend.

"So anyway, we were all drunk off our asses on Fireball when Tricia starts naming off the biggest dicks in our class. Chet got mad he didn't make the cut, and he bet $20 he could beat any guy there. He was doing pretty good till he got to Everett. Keith whipped his out, and that sucker had to be ten inches." 

Kendra's ears perked up at Keith's name, and Amber noticed the change in posture. She shot a snide look across the aisle.

"Don't take my word for it, ask Kendra," she sneered. "She's used to taking that monster cock." 

"You mad, Amber?" Kendra smiled sunnily as she dressed. "If you ask nice, maybe he'll let you clean it off when I'm done."

She slammed her locker shut and hurried out before she could fully hear the girl's reply, which sent peals of laughter pelting her back. 

Today's activity was volleyball, and she welcomed the chance to let off some pent-up aggression. Kendra played varsity, and her teammate Karen was in rotation next to her.

"Don't listen to Amber. She's just being a witch," Karen said. 

Kendra stared straight ahead. Karen wanted to be cool when no one else was around, but she never stood up when Kendra was being bullied. 

Karen wouldn't shut up. "I mean, nobody really thinks you and Keith're dating. Are you?" 

"It's nobody's business if we are," Kendra returned. 

"I'm just saying, you always walk together, and he drives you around all the time. And he's a wreck, but he's hot. How is it?" Karen leaned in to whisper. "I hear he's a beast in bed!"

Kendra set her mouth in a hard line and took a large, deliberate step away from Karen. She put her full focus on the game, jamming the ball repeatedly over the net. She thrilled each time the volleyball busted Amber or one of her friends in the chest or thigh, but any of the white girls on the opposing side would do. Their curses and screams eventually drew a sharp whistle from Coach Kresge.

"Hey Evans, lighten up on the return," Kresge called. "Good hustle, but this isn't an away game."

But Kendra didn't stop. Her arm was like a cannon, her feet pounded as she snatched shots from the less aggressive girls. Even her teammates gave her wide berth, and after a vicious shot to a girl's face she got pulled from the game. 

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Evans, but whatever it is, I don't want to see it again," the middle-aged teacher said sternly. Kendra watched the bleached hairs on Kresge's upper lip tremble as she talked. She was pretty sure Coach was a lesbian. 

"Pull another stunt like today and that's an automatic detention. For now, hit the showers. You can spend the rest of the period in the principal's office."

On her way there, Kendra tried to figure out why Amber and Karen's comments pissed her off so badly. She was as mad at herself as at them. Why hadn't she shut the rumors down? Was she embarrassed about being a virgin? Did she want the girls to think she and Keith were fucking? Why?

She and Keith were strictly platonic, but of course she thought about his body. He was the only man she'd seen undressed, and his pathetic father couldn't keep the heat bill paid so Keith chopped wood all winter. Those hours of hard labor had paid off something fierce. 

She would never tell Keith how many furious finger-fuck sessions their photo shoots inspired, or about the dream when she woke up hot and bothered, a soaked pillow between her legs. She knew he wanted her. But she also knew it would be World War III if her parents found out. 

Her parents had instilled her with a sense of racial superiority: based on history, genetics, culture, and morality, she felt on a gut level that black people were simply better than whites. But Keith was another story. White or not, his lanky body and dry sarcasm did it for her in a way no other boy had, and she wanted to see where it would go.



The Violin Pt. 03



 Sorry for the looong build-up. Finally some release.

*****

The Meadow was a clearing near the railroad tracks, in the woods behind the library. Burnout kids used it on weekends as a place to drink and get high. Keith was a regular, but Kendra had never been. Typical for a weekday afternoon, it was deserted.

Old-growth forest populated the twenty or thirty acres of land, split by a scar of rail ties but otherwise unscathed by man. By teen was a different story. Beer cans and cigarette butts were everywhere. 

"Except for the empties, this place looks like something out of 'Bridge to Terabithia!' I love it," Kendra said, snapping a walking stick.

"Hey, don't put on your hiking face. It's just a couple of acres," Keith teased. 

Kendra stuck out her tongue and ran ahead of him, giddy as a 5-year-old. She loved nature, and though her house was on ten acres, she rarely did much exploring due to her busy schedule.

"Keith, over here!" she called from deeper in the woods. He followed her voice until he found her standing in a copse of slim trees. Their branches had grown together, weaving a natural canopy overhead penetrated by only a few shafts of sunlight. 

"It's like an emerald chapel," she whispered. 

"That's lucky then, cause I just happen to have picked up some wine." 

From his backpack, Keith produced a bottle of Wild Irish Rose he'd bought from a lax convenience store clerk. He fished a tightly rolled joint from his pocket and spread out his trench for them to lay on. On their backs, looking up at the roof of leaves, they got pleasantly high and drifted from topic to topic.

"So, I hear you might not be at State next year."

"Who told you that?"

"Your dad, this morning."

"Damn, what else did you guys plan for me? Am I getting married off, too? I was only five minutes late!"

They both laughed. "Well?" he asked.

"My dad wants me to go to Spelman, or Barnard or Smith. He's got a real hard-on for private women's colleges."

"Mm-hmm. No dudes. I see the logic."

Kendra laughed. "I don't think that's his main focus. He wants me to be roommates with a future secretary of state, or at least attorney general."

He paused for a minute, taking a drag on the weed. "You thinking about it?"

"Hell, no. I want to have some fun in college, not sit dissecting post-post feminism with a bunch of vegans. Besides," she hugged closer to him, "I'd miss you too much."

Her embrace warmed him, but she pressed his back and he involuntarily tensed. She pulled back immediately.

"Did I hurt you?" 

"No, I'm okay."

"Let me see."

"No."

"Why?" Her voice was unsettled in the peaceful woods.

"Because you'll freak out. And it's done and he's gonna be straight for another couple days and I don't want to waste our time together talking about him."

"Just let me see the damn thing so I can take the picture. It won't take a minute." 

He shook his head, frustrating her. 

"You know I'm not going to let it go till you show me," she persisted. Kendra wondered why he was so reluctant, when she'd been photo-documenting the injuries and bruises for most of the year. Finally, he relented. 

"Okay, but it probably looks nasty. I can't see it, but it hurts like a bitch." 

Keith twisted around and lifted his shirt hem. By the sudden way Kendra clapped her hand over her mouth, he guessed it looked worse than he thought.

"That m-motherfucker," Kendra whispered, tears bright in her eyes. Her hand shook so, she could barely aim the cellphone camera. Her eyes brimmed over and she could no longer see, but she felt his arms encircle her while she cried.

"It's okay, it's fine now. I'm a big boy," he tried to joke. 

"No!" Kendra shook her head. "It's escalating; he's really trying to hurt you." Hot tears streaked her face. "He hit your kidneys over and over—your lower back is almost black. You might need to go to the hospital. What asshole does this?"

"Shhh, shhh. Just two more months, remember?" Keith kissed her forehead, then a tear as it slid down her cheek. "Don't cry, K. We'll be on the road and college bound soon. Okay?" 

He continued kissing her tears, then laid back and drew her down with him. She melted onto his chest, letting him stroke her hair until she stopped sniffling.

He felt ironic comforting her when he was the one injured, but Kendra hated his father even more than he did. She's a good friend, he thought. But holding her so close was doing decidedly unfriendly things to him. Her hair tickled his chin, her skin was soft and smelled like mangoes. Her sweet tits pressed into his chest as her breathing evened and he felt a stab of pleasure as she shifted against his groin. She felt so good, he was afraid of what he might do if he let her go. He had to get ahold of himself. 

"So, why haven't you ever taken me here before?" Kendra asked.

"Never thought about it. It's just a party spot everybody uses on the weekend. Not really your kind of crowd." 

Keith's hand slowly, cautiously slid from her shoulder to her hip. He slowed his breathing to calm down, but his heart beat faster. His hand came to rest just atop the curve of her backside, where he stroked in small circles. 

"I've heard about these parties, but I've never been invited to one. More you and Tricia's crowd, huh?"

"What's that mean? You jealous?" He chuckled, wondering if she realized how perfectly she was positioned. She wiggled her butt, seeming to enjoy the backrub. Could she really be that innocent?

"Oh, please. She rolls her eyes so hard when she sees me, I'm surprised she doesn't go blind. Did you two used to be a thing?"

Keith laughed. 

"Everybody's been a thing with Tricia. It's sort of like a rite of passage."

"Disgusting," she snapped, ignoring his creeping hands. "But that girl, and in fact, a lot of your friends, they can't stand me. I wonder what would happen if I showed up here on a Friday night."

"They'd shut the fuck up, if I was around," Keith assured her. "Besides, they're not my friends."

"I know. Just your drinking buddies and people you hang with at parties I'm never invited to." Kendra raised up on her elbow and looked at him. "You're like, my only friend. Everyone else around here treats me like I'm invisible, or some kind of freak. Without you, I'd probably walk off a cliff." 

"Those people are idiots. Losers, hicks and religious nuts. You don't need them."

She looked directly at him and slowly, deliberately pressed herself against him. 

"But... I do need you." 

She held his gaze as long as she could. It was the most direct flirting she had ever done and she sounded braver than she looked—and Keith loved her for it. He cupped the round of her bottom and squeezed. 

"I'm at your service, K. Have been since the day we met." 

He craned up to kiss her, and grunted at the soft collision with her pillowy lips. She was as tasty as he'd imagined. She opened up to him like a flower, and to his surprise, he opened up, too. Under the emerald chapel, between kisses, he confessed to what he'd been feeling for the past year. 

"You're the best thing—the only good thing—in my life. Sometimes I can't believe we're friends. I always want to be near you."

"Then you should've kissed me a long time ago, dummy," she giggled. Her mouth was warm and wet and with each parry their kiss deepened. He tugged at her lips with his teeth and sucked on her tongue, greedy for more of her. The world turned upside down and spun, and they clung to each other like the last anchors left. 

Kendra finally broke the kiss and rolled off to lay beside him, gasping for air. 

"I can't believe this is happening," she said breathlessly. Shyly, she explored him over his clothes, running her hands from his shoulders to his waist. 

"You're so hard," she said, then giggled. "I mean, there's a lot of muscle under that coat!"

Gradually she moved lower. When she reached his crotch she snatched her hand back in surprise. 

"It's okay, I like it when you touch me there," he whispered, gently guiding her hand back. 

"It's so hot," she murmured, outlining him through his jeans. His pipe throbbed, fat and insistent against her palm.

"You're making it that way." 

He unzipped and reached inside to pull his snake into the air. She leaned in close to get a good look at the stiff, purple thing—"It's so big!"—and he almost lost it at the sight of her face so close to his cock. Her mouth hung slightly open and he felt her breath buffeting the tender flesh. She gingerly slid her fist along his length, gradually gaining speed and confidence, until he had to stop her before he shot off in her face. 

"Can I touch you, too?"

"Oh my God, Keith, yes," she replied, trading places with him to rest on his coat. 

He lifted her shirt and kissed her rib cage, her smooth belly, and tugged her shorts down her shapely legs. The smell of her sex made him dizzy; he wanted to rip her panties off and fuck her 'til it dug a hole in the ground. But a glance at her apprehensive eyes slowed him down. Hot as she made him, he couldn't let her first time be outside in the dirt like this. 

"Don't worry, K, there are lots of things we can do," he promised, and sat up. "Let me make you feel good."

Pulling her onto his lap, he pushed her shirt up and pulled her bra down underneath her breasts. They popped out at him, full and firm. Just looking at them made his mouth water. Keith gripped a fat tit in each hand and alternated kisses between them, working his way in slow spirals toward her dark chocolate nipples. Urged on by her whimpers and little cries, he feasted on her, pushing her mounds together and sucking both into his mouth at once.

Kendra braced her arms on the ground behind her and wrapped her legs around him, rocking in a delicious slow grind. Chords of pleasure rippled through her body, intensifying the sensations from her breasts. Colors swirled behind her eyes and an unfamiliar feeling rose within her; she wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. It was like running up a mountain, but gaining exhilaration the higher she climbed. 

Keith was so big and strong, she felt entirely safe in his arms. It was too much; tidal waves of pleasure swamped her. He cradled her securely as her back arched. Her hips gyrated uncontrollably, saturating her thin panties until they were like a second skin—the only barrier between them. Her sex clamped and released on his in a maddening series of spasms. If she was like this at Second Base...

"Oh, babe," emotion made Keith's voice like sandpaper, "you feel so good. I promise I won't put it all the way in; just let me slide up next to it."

Kendra was breathing hard, a faint sheen of perspiration dewing her body so that it seemed to glow. Her pupils were dilated and her nipples were stubborn, rubbery knots pointing out in opposite directions. Still, she hesitated.

"Keith, that sounds like Knocked Up 101." 

Even as she denied him, her body begged him not to stop. Her hips continued their constant, almost imperceptible motion. He slipped a finger along the soaked gusset of her panties, and the sucking sound as he broke the seal was exaggerated in the quiet woods. She hissed when he pressed her swollen clit.

"I swear to God, I won't go too far," he replied. He stroked circles around her nub, throwing in a few soft pinches, and Kendra's body surged forward under his spell. It scared her.

"No, Keith," she begged. "I'm not ready. I didn't mean to go this far."

He didn't pause in his ministrations. "There's still a little space between this and making love. We can stay there. You like what I'm doing?"

She nodded and he suddenly kissed her, hard. His mouth demanded every inch of her lips, sucking her breath away. He stopped just as suddenly, his hand still in her panties. He spoke hoarsely. 

"I like it, too. You never let me play your violin before. But baby, you should see yourself. When you're getting what you want how you want it, it's..." he bit his lip and shook his head. "Just give me one more song. Please, Kendra."

His index finger hooked inside her canal, where even she had never explored, and she jumped at the intrusion. He tested her tightness with shallow strokes, enough to keep her stimulated but not giving her the friction she needed. He could tell by her expression she was frustrated.

"Are you sure?" 

"You run the show," he coaxed. "If you say stop, I'll stop. Promise you." Her pussy made an indecent slurp as he pulled his hand back. He was amazed at how wet she'd left his palm. He licked his fingers; she was thick and clear like okra juice, with a faint but yummy flavor. 

"Lay back," he said, and she did. 

He tugged her panties off and stopped to collect his thoughts, but a glance at her prone on his trench coat, bare below the waist, propelled him toward her with renewed lust.

Parting her knees, he knelt at her vee and breathed her in. Her trim mound was plump and inviting; the sight of her clit peeking slickly between her lips made him groan. 

But he started off at her thighs. They were thick and firm, yet soft enough to move when he licked them. The more he nibbled, the tastier they got, until Kendra was whimpering from pleasure/pain. The moist click he heard as her thighs opened and closed told more of pleasure. He moved higher, tickling the crease between her thigh and mound. Kendra pushed her butt in the air, offering her cleft to him. He laid a smacking kiss on it, chuckling at her tortured sigh. 

Finally, he grasped her clit between his lips and flicked gently at the tender meat all around it. Even though it was what she craved, direct contact after all this time threatened to overload her senses, and Kendra twisted about grabbing fistfuls of grass, fighting her instinct to flee. Keith clamped his forearms around her thighs to still her.

"Don't run from me," he coached, lashing the inflamed nub. "It's what your body wants."

Kendra didn't trust herself to speak, but tried to comply. She felt her pussy muscles getting stiffer and tighter, so tight they began to ache. Tiny contractions came faster and faster until her whole snatch was jumping, then with a strangled cry she soaked his face. He drank her down, not stopping until she had another smaller quake and her moans subsided. 

He came up and kissed her once, then graciously wiped his face on a corner of his coat. Kendra stared in wonder, panting.

"Where did you learn to do that?" 

"Looks like there are some things you can learn in Millville, after all."

"Freak," she teased, pushing herself up on her elbows for another kiss. He slid up and braced himself atop her, pulling the loose neck of her tank top down under her breasts, with her bra. Her shorts and panties were discarded forlornly a few feet away.  

"I'm a freak for you," he kissed her softly until she fell back again. His hair fell over his forehead as he angled himself above her. "You're gonna like this. If you just lay still, I promise at the end you'll still be a Hampshire virgin."

"What the hell's a H—oh—" 

The first shallow stroke of his dick bumped her sensitive clit, making her head fly back. On the second, her legs bucked in the air involuntarily. He surged through her heat, splitting her lips, as close to heaven as 99 to 100. It felt so good, it took all he had not to plunge knee-deep into her pussy. She wasn't helping, fucking up at him even as she protested.

"You said—oh, no—you—oh—"

"It's just the gate, baby. I'm just in the doorway," he grunted. "But you have GOT to stop moving around like that. Aagh!"

He slid in another delicious few millimeters, bumping her hymen. She was so hot and tight inside. Her muscles squeezed the crown of his dick, pushing him too far, too fast.

"Don't move, don't move," he commanded, grabbing her hips to still them. Then, taking deep, slow breaths, he realigned himself to slide up and down her slit like a hotdog between a bun. When he started moving again, Kendra had caught on and was ready.

Experienced or not, this girl was the best lover Keith had ever had. The way she worked her hips drove him crazy. She matched him thrust for thrust, rolling her body underneath him like the sea carries a ship. And the sounds she made! Nothing like the manufactured moans of porno girls. They weren't sexy so much as primal. Sweet little Kendra was a wildcat. 

He was getting close, but Keith couldn't stop. She was right, they shouldn't have gone this far. Any second now, a wayward flick of her hips would send him balls-deep inside her. And he wouldn't be sorry—she wanted it as bad as he did. Just look at her: heavy tits bouncing, waist rolling, pussy wetter than a Slip-N-Slide. She was begging for it, and if she did that sexy little double-pump one more time, he was going to give it to her. Ah, shit. Her whole body was trembling underneath him. His balls drew up tight but he tried to hang on just a little longer. She was sliding her pussy up and down his shaft, using him like a dildo. Her mouth hung open, beautiful lips slack as her breath hitched and hiccupped. Fuck it! He pressed into her as hard as he could. She screamed, but her barrier held. By then it was too late. The first trickle of cum came down, like the snow shifting before the avalanche. He snatched his cock back and blew all over her thighs. 

Kendra hadn't expected such an abrupt ending. She was wide open, convulsing in the throes of her fourth orgasm as Keith showered her in a geyser of warm cum. She gradually came down, blinking to see him on his knees in front of her, gripping his meat in one hand and a stunned look on his face. 

"Whoa. Was it...was I good?"

He shook his head to clear the fog and crawled forward with a chuckle, dragging his clothes carelessly over her sticky body to end in a searing kiss. 

"Babe. You are the absolute best, ever. I think I shot out a lung." He kissed her again. He was still hard as a rock, and she was so hot, he considered going back for another round, but with his cum all over her he thought better of it. It would be too easy to have an accident. "Was it good for you?"

She looked down with a little smile, pulling her bra and shirt into place. "You're okay," she mumbled. 

"You're blushing!" he cried, delighted. "Yeah, you liked it. You don't have to say anything, my violin can't lie to me."

The library was closed so they couldn't clean up properly in the bathroom, so they got as presentable as they could, wiping up with her ruined panties between kisses. When Kendra finally got home, it was almost midnight.

***

The next day when Keith awoke, he was half afraid it had all been a dream. Then he saw his jeans, dried stiffly on the back of a crate. He grabbed his cellphone first thing. Kendra didn't pick up, so he texted her:

Hey Beautiful, say I 'accidentally' drive by 2 pick u up this a.m.? Gotta have u 2 myself.

He drove to her house and was relieved to see her dad's BMW wasn't parked out front. He knocked and Kendra's mother opened the door.

"Keith, what are you doing here?" she asked coldly. 

"Uh, hi, Mrs. Evans. I know your husband said that he would take Kendra to school today, but old habits die hard and I drove out here somewhat on autopilot. I can still give her a ride, if you want."

"We had a family talk with Kendra last night and decided that, as a young woman, she has the right to start making decisions and taking responsibility for her life. We're not stopping you two from riding together," Maria said, an uncharacteristically hard set to her face. "Kendra chose to ride the bus this morning. And her father and I don't appreciate you dropping our daughter off at all hours of the night, either. I don't know how things go at your house, but we set a curfew to protect our daughter and we don't allow her to be around people who don't respect her safety."




The Violin Pt. 03



Keith blinked at the force of her attack. He'd never had a bad interaction with Kendra's mom. He'd always thought she was the nice one. Talk about not judging a bitch by its cover! He pressed his lips tight. 

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am. Kendra's phone died and we lost track of time. It won't happen again. Sorry to bother you folks," he said quickly, turning and striding briskly from the house.

At school, Keith thought he saw a snippet of fizzy hair at the end of the hallway, but it was nowhere near the doors they usually came in. He hung around till after the late bell and cruised by her first period class. 

Bingo! There she was. But she kept her eyes glued to the teacher. She wore a black sweatshirt, hood up, which usually signaled things were bad. 

He caught her at lunchtime walking with Brian, the only other black kid in their school. From what Keith had heard, most of the girls thought Brian was "cute." He was on the football team and in Kendra's psychology class. Keith knew he was being stupid, but a pang of jealousy stabbed through him. 

"Hey Kendra, what's up?" 

"Oh, hey Keith." She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Missed you this morning." 

"I overslept."

"That so? Cause I came by your house and you weren't there."

Kendra sighed hard and looked away.

"I'm sorry about last night. I thought your parents would be asleep." 

"What happened last night?" Brian interjected.

"Shut up," Keith snapped, pulling Kendra to the far side of the hallway.

"Hey man, don't snatch on her!" Brian bristled. 

Keith welcomed the chance to hit something. It had been a while since his last suspension. He took three long strides toward the shorter boy, ready to smash his face in.

Kendra was just as quick to hop between them. "It's okay Brian, he's just being his asshole self," she said, never looking away from Keith.

Brian backed down the hall, talking trash. "That's right, hide behind your gir. Kendra, I don't know why you even waste time on this punk."

Keith spit in his direction, then turned on Kendra. "Who the fuck is that guy? Why're you walking with him?"

Kendra gave a look like he was crazy. "You know Brian! And I can walk with whomever I want! You don't own me!"

"I don't understand what's going on. You didn't call me back this morning. You didn't answer my text. You haven't spoken to me all day. What's going on?"

She looked around anxiously and lowered her voice. "I made a mistake last night. You wouldn't understand."

"Try me. Explain why you couldn't even let me know not to come get you this morning. I felt like an asshole, when your mom said you'd rather take the bus than ride with me. And then I get here and you're ducking me?" 

"It's just...hard. We're too different."

A little smile played around his lips, but Keith felt like he'd been punched in the gut. His stomach churned like he would vomit. He squeezed out a question in someone else's voice. 

"You're ashamed to be with me?" 

Her eyes spun off to the left. She was a terrible liar, one of the things he'd always liked about her. 

"No! I'm not ashamed of you."

Keith slammed his lanky frame backwards against a locker, looking up at the ceiling. 

"This doesn't make sense. Yesterday-yesterday was perfect."

"I'm sorry, Keith!" Then, softer, "I'm sorry. It's just... I've got a lot on my mind right now. My parents were mad as hell when I got home last night, and my dad laid this heavy talk on me about my responsibilities—"

"What? What responsibilities are there that you don't already fill? You get straight A's, about to graduate with honors, you're in like 327 clubs..." 

"And it's all for a purpose! My whole life, it's been drilled in, the kind of person I'm expected to be. I have Important Things to do! I'm the standard bearer! You don't get it, Keith. I'm on track to be the goddamn president!"

Any other time, they would have cracked up.

"I could've gotten pregnant last night, Keith! They knew, they knew we had been doing things. They said they could smell you on me." Kendra looked like she would be sick.

"Maria got one of her buddies to call in a prescription and Dad made me take the morning after pill in front of him, like I couldn't be trusted to do it myself."

Kendra started to cry, at first a trickle, then harder when Keith just stood there. He'd never just stood by while she wept. 

"One of the reasons Dad fell in love with my mom was because she's dark, and he wanted to clean up his bloodline because his ancestors were raped by white men during slavery, and he wants dark children and grandchildren, and a black woman that lets a white man touch her is a whore, and I don't know! All this stuff. I'm fucked up in the head," she cried. 

Keith was floored. "What about Martin Luther King and equality and all that? Slavery was more than a hundred years ago, things are different now! We have a black president! Things are better!" His rebuttal sounded weak, even to his own ears.

"Come on, Keith! You and I both know better. We both live in this fucking town. If my house caught on fire tomorrow, fifty bucks says the fire department would let it burn to the ground, and us along with it. You all don't give a fuck about us!"

"You all? Not me, not Keith." He spun in a slow circle. 

"Okay. Your black supremacist father has finally convinced you not to play with trash. I get it. But remember this," he pulled her close. "You came all over this white devil cock last night, and you loved it."

"Fuck you, Keith!"

"No, fuck you! I don't care about some shit that happened way back a hundred years ago, or you being President Sojourner Winfrey or whoever the fuck your dad wants you to be. I don't give a shit about any of it. Don't you get it? I love you. And I see the way you look at me." 

His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "How you cry when I'm hurt; how you shook and moaned when I wasn't even inside of you. You can't lie to me, Kendra. You love me, too. Don't you?" 

She tried to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist. "Don't you," he shouted. Kendra's eyes were bright with tears, but she refused to look him in the face. Disgusted, he threw her hand down and kicked the nearest locker with his steel-toed boot, leaving a vicious dent and bringing a teacher into the hallway.

"Keith Everett, go straight to the office right now, before I call the police. I'm reporting you for damaging school property," Ms. Pinkerton said.

Keith gave the locker another angry boot as he backed away from Kendra. "Your dad's right, you know. You are better than me," he called out to her. "I can't believe it took you so long to figure it out. You must not be as smart as I thought." 

He pushed open the Exit doors and left school for good.

Two days later, Keith's picture was all over the newspapers. He had bashed his sleeping father with a steel bat.



The Violin Pt. 04



There was no shortage of townspeople willing to talk to the local news about the "troubled young man." By the time the headlines finished, Keith was a drug-abusing truant with a history of violence. 

"I can't believe you were hanging out with such an animal," Mr. Evans said over breakfast. "He's been in my home."

"It's all lies, Dad! You know Keith is a good person. His father's been abusing him for years!"

"If that were the case, they'd say so, honey," Mrs. Evans said.

"They don't know! But I have proof." Kendra opened up the file on her phone and showed them the pictures of Keith's body. Her parents were quiet as they scrolled through the photos. 

Maria gagged at the sight of his back. "Jesus."

"This is terrible," Mr. Evans said. "Why didn't you tell us this was going on?"

"You hated him, Daddy. And he made me promise not to tell."

"No child deserves this kind of treatment," Mr. Evans said. His honey-brown eyes clouded over in shame, racking his brain to see if he'd ever ignored signs of abuse just because he disliked the boy.

"I'm disappointed in you, honey. You should've shared this with us. It might have prevented this whole tragedy from occurring."

"It's not her fault," Maria said. "She's just a teenager, and she was trying to protect her friend. I'll make some calls this morning and see if I can get this entered as evidence. I'm sure it will influence the case."

Maria pushed the issue through front and back channels, until Keith's charges were lowered. But because he was 18 and an adult, he got a six-year term.

Mr. Evans wasn't willing to drive Kendra to see Keith in prison, but he told his daughter if she wrote, he would mail the letters along with a monthly check for Keith's canteen privileges. "Some things you can avoid in jail, if you have the money," he said.

The first time she tried to write, she couldn't get past a few lines without tears. 

Hey Keith, I'm traveling Spain. The gypsies remind me of you. Wish you were here.

The trajectory of their lives spun light years apart.

***

Seven Years Later

***

3:14 a.m. Sunday, and Kendra was riding the train home. Boston could get rough, but she felt safe. She was alert and she'd taken several personal safety classes. She'd graduated Yale, then Harvard, and was just ending a late night at the law library, studying case law for the firm where she was a junior partner. 

She had to stay on her toes. It had been four months since she and Niall called it quits, but he was a petty, vindictive sonofabitch. Not that he'd been all that passionate when they were together. Hell, she and Niall hadn't had sex at all those last two months. Still, he was her boss—or at least, her superior at the firm. The longer their affair dragged on, the greater the chance of discovery, and the greater the professional price she'd have to pay. She'd ended it with a cordial lunch date and a vow to stay on top of her caseload at all costs. Tonight, she was looking forward to nothing so much as her own bed.

A hard-looking guy boarded her empty train from the connector, not the platform doors. She'd seen him before; he was a regular on her route. Tall, tatted, muscular and very pale, he looked a little scary, but he never bothered her. She saw him give up a seat to an old drunk once, and not in the you-smell kind of way a lot of people would have. She imagined he lived somewhere on the South side. 

The car rattled to a stop and two more men boarded: one skinny and hyper, the fat one with a weird, high voice. They greeted the tall guy, which surprised her. All these months, she'd never seen him talk to anyone. They were clearly ex-cons or worse, and they gave her a bad feeling. She stood and gathered her bag but the doors closed before she could approach them. 

Damn. She resolved to get off at the next stop and change cars. The fat one inclined his head towards her, then turned to speak with his pal. 

Oh shit. A blue tattoo of a swastika twisted above the man's right ear. 

"Look at that tasty bitch over there," Bam said. "She looks like fun tonight." 

"Not my type," Kaine said curtly, hoping his friend would leave Kendra alone. He didn't want her to look up and recognize him. Not like that was a huge possibility, he thought bitterly. She'd dumped him from her life like so much trash years ago. Bam ignored him, and snaked his way to the seat behind Kendra's. Whatever he was whispering in Kendra's ear, she steadfastly ignored.

"Bam's fucking crazy," Cody laughed. "But he does have a good eye."

Kaine shrugged. The boys were fucking idiots, had been since the pen, but they were just blowing off steam.

"Don't like dark meat, huh?" Cody was geared up, high on something. "You never had it, bro. Niggers, their brains are in their asses. They work a pole like a fucking scientist. I bet she could make you cry for your mama."

"Hell yeah," Bam added, springing to his feet. "It's your birthday, after all. Carpe diem and shit."

Fuck this, Kendra decided. They're just a bunch of drunk losers, but no use in tempting fate. She stood to leave the car, hoping there were more people in the next compartment.

"Hey, where the hell you think you're going," Bam shouted, blocking the aisle. "We're just playing with you." 

Kendra tried to push past him, but he used his weight against her. "Get the fuck out of my way," she bristled. 

"Get the fuck outta my way," Bam mocked her high-pitched tone. "That's not really how you say it, is it, honey? You gotta say it Roxbury style. 'Git da fuck outta mah way!'" he bellowed, spraying spittle in her face. She flinched, eliciting a cheer from Cody.

"Yeah, show that bitch," Cody called. "Uptight bitch. She looks like she needs some dick in her life. It's been a minute for me, too. Kaine, you wanna go in on this whore?" 

"That's so gay, man. Anything you two've been in, I wouldn't fuck with someone else's dick," Kaine joked. "Plus, who wants a chick all banged-out and shell-shocked?"

"No way, that's the beauty of these bitches, they're used to it. All spades do is run trains on their chicks. A black broad can't get off with just one guy," Bam retorted. 

Kendra snaked her hand in her bag, feeling desperately for a pen, or anything she could use as a weapon. The jangle of keys attracted attention, and Bam snatched her purse away from her.

Kaine walked over and tried to calm the situation. This was turning into a nightmare. "Come on, man, I gotta see my PO today." 

Kendra dug her phone from her pocket. "Get back or I'm calling the police!"

Kaine pushed her back in the seat one-handed. "Sit down and shut the fuck up." He snatched the cellphone out of her hand. I'm trying to help you, bitch!

"Yeah, Kaine. I can put something in her mouth to make her shut the fuck up," Cody said.

"I'll bite it in half." 

Bam slapped her in the face. The perv was breathing hard, Kaine noted—a bad sign. Bam was getting excited. Why wouldn't she shut the fuck up so he could think? 

"First thing I'm gonna do is stuff my dick up that sweet ass," Bam was saying, rubbing his knife like a cock. "Then, I'm carving my name on your tits. I bet you scream pretty. But if Cody feels even one tooth, I'll really have to hurt you."

Kaine realized then what he had become. Why she hadn't recognized him in all these weeks. He wasn't the same person anymore. Anything he once was had been replaced by hate. He hated her for not seeing him when he was right in front of her. Hated himself for not killing Bam on the spot. And for thinking, just for an instant, that if she had to get fucked, he was the lesser of three evils.

***

"All right, brother, you convinced me," Kaine said to Cody. "I'm horny enough to fuck a hole in the wall, I guess a monkey's one step better." 

He let a hand slide down her shoulder to grope a round, juicy tit, bigger than he remembered, through her silky blouse. In spite of everything, it excited him, and he continued to squeeze as he talked. "I know a spot near here where I can take her. You two go on ahead. I'll see you meet you at the clubhouse when I'm done."

"What man, you don't wanna share?" Cody asked, moving in closer. "I can keep the pussy warm for you. I like it all stretched out and sloppy." 

Kendra was struggling to maintain control. Fear and rage radiated from her. Kaine groped her other breast too, to keep Cody's hands off her. She was so fucking beautiful.

"Nah, I'm feeling selfish. A little strange is just what I need to clear my head."

The train pulled into a stop and a middle-aged white couple, laughing and talking loudly, stepped through the doors. Seeing Kendra surrounded by the men, they froze. 

Kendra shrieked. "Help me! Please help! Call—"

The two quickly retreated back to the platform, chased by the underlings' hoots. Cody shot Kaine a look of anticipation, eager to see how she would be punished.

"That was real cute. You're clever, aren't you?" Kaine couldn't let these animals rape Kendra, no matter how he hated her for abandoning him. But they couldn't know he had been friends with her; had loved her. He had to be a convincing monster in order to save her. His gaze fell on her open satchel. 

"Law books. Bet you're coming from Cambridge. Ivy League, after all, huh? I'm going to teach your smart ass a lesson tonight. Get up!" 

"You heard the man, bitch. On your feet." Bam pulled Kendra to her feet for his lieutenant. "We should inspect her, boss. She might not be no good under these fancy clothes."

Without waiting, the fat man shoved her face-first into the dirty plexiglass and yanked her light jacket off. Kendra couldn't suppress a yelp, which made the men laugh. As the fabric pooled at her ankles, her mind raced a mile a minute. She couldn't take them all. But at the next stop, maybe she could make a run for it. Could she escape to her apartment, or would they simply follow, break in and rape her in the comfort of her home? A thin, cool edge danced over the nape of her neck, making her tremble. The knife. It ripped down the back of her shirt. The sound of fabric tearing terrified her. The halves of her top fell away from her back, and the fat man gave a low whistle. The other started a slow clap.

"Nice ink, sweetheart," Cody's voice dripped with lust, running his hand over her ass. "You supposed to be a guitar or something?" 

Kaine couldn't trust his voice to speak. On either side of her lower back, resting above the swell of her ass, were two f-notes. Something long-dead and buried beneath all the misery stirred in him. She was still his violin.

"Our Ivy League nigger is a whore, with the tramp stamp to prove it," Bam said. "Doesn't that just make the sweetest little cum-target?" 

Cody fished his dick out of his pants. "I know it's your birthday, but with a tat like that, this bitch is advertising."

Kaine grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into the wall. "I'm the goddamn lieutenant, and I'm the only one dipping my dick in this tonight. Touch her again and you're next." Kaine's voice was low and deadly.

Kendra was shivering against the wall. Her chances against one was better than three, but he might be more depraved than the other two. He could kill her when he was done. She nearly toppled as the train screeched to its next stop. Her stop. 

"This is it." Kaine lifted his t-shirt to flash a black .45 tucked into the waist of his jeans. "Now, you're going to be a real good girl for me. Aren't you?"

Kendra couldn't even shake or nod her head. Her eyes were frozen in fear. Keith touched her shoulder and she flinched, so he pushed her toward the doors. 

"You're such a pussy hog, man! All right, I feel like getting fucked up anyway," Bam chuckled. 

Cody was pissed. "Bitch probably has AIDS," he muttered, glaring at Kaine's back. 

The doors opened and Kaine gripped a wad of her hair tightly with one hand. "Don't be stupid and I won't have to use this," he whispered in her ear, pressing the gun in her back. "Nice and easy." Together they slowly disembarked through the sliding doors. 

"Hey Kaine, take pics!" Cody shouted, before the train took off again.

"Now," Keith frog-marched her to street level, then shoved her away, "think you can get home without getting raped?"



The Violin Pt. 05



Kendra stood stock still for a moment, bewildered, before understanding. "Thank you, thank you!" she shouted as she scurried away without looking back. Seeing her race off tossed him about inside; he was drowning in emotions he couldn't even name. The gun felt heavy and cold in his hand, a dead thing. A weight was crushing down on him.

"Kendra!" 

Kendra spun around, a few yards away. "How do you know my name?"

The tall white man gave a sad laugh. "Lucky guess. Just...you forgot your bag." He held out the satchel toward her.

Kendra really looked at him for the first time. Stockier, facial hair and harder face, but - "Keith! Oh my God, Keith!"

She ran back toward him, stopping several feet short. Her hand kept reaching out then hesitating, as if he were a hot stove that would burn. 

"Keith?" Emotions battled across her face until she cracked and began to cry. Kendra felt like she was going crazy. First she'd nearly gotten gang raped. Then she was rescued by her best friend, but he wasn't her best friend anymore. He was a Nazi.

What does she have to cry about? I just saved her fucking life. Typical princess bullshit! Keith felt relief at the familiar rush of anger. He was the one who lost everyone, who had done time. Life looked like it had dealt her all spades. He pulled off his trench coat and wrapped it around her.

"Go home, Kendra."

"Is it really you? I-I don't know what's going on," she stumbled over her words. "Should we talk?" 

"About what? The good old days? I think it's pretty obvious life's been kicking my ass."

"And you just brandished a glock at me. But... let's have coffee, or something. I live nearby," Kendra said. 

"I know." 

They began to walk.

"You've been riding my train for weeks."

"Months."

"And the whole time you were sitting next to me, you knew it was me and didn't speak? Why?" She searched his face as he steadfastly averted his eyes. 

"I didn't mean to," he said quietly. They turned onto her block. "I wasn't prepared. Look, I knew you had forgotten me," he said in a rush, as if getting the words out quickly would make them hurt less. "But I didn't know you'd forgotten me so completely. I couldn't get past it."

They stopped in front of a small, old brownstone. Kendra unlocked the main door, then opened her personal entrance. She had her dad's taste in art, but not her mom's taste in decorating, Keith thought. He couldn't remember the last time he'd noticed anyone's décor.

"This is very you," he said, walking around the bohemian furnishings. Everything about it, from its warm Mediterranean colors to the original ethnic art work, smacked to him of pretension. "Very classy," he sneered. 

"Guess so, compared to the company you keep," she fired back. "So, you're raping now?"

"Don't dodge the issue."

"That is the fucking issue! What's happened to you?"

"What happened to me? What happened to you? You were supposed to be my best friend! And you dropped me and never looked back!"

"Don't you DARE put this shit on me! Don't you dare!" Kendra snatched Keith's trench off and hurled it at him with all her might. "Your friends almost fucking raped me! Just now! Your boy was ready to carve his name in my chest. Is this a normal Saturday night for you? A normal Nazi Saturday night?"

Hot tears shot from Kendra's eyes as the sheer overload of the evening came crashing down. She sank shaking on the couch in her bra and skirt and bawled as though her heart would break. Her sobs were painful, long and raw. Keith had no right, he knew he didn't, to comfort her. But he couldn't stand to see her cry. He put a tentative hand on her shoulder, and she yanked back like it was a hot poker. He put his arm around her anyway, despite her struggling, and rocked back and forth with her until he could wrap her up in an embrace. 

In the process, he began to weep. He cried for the years lost, the love lost and the dreams lost. He cried for the fear and the beatings and crawfish etouffee, for his mother and college and his father's bloody pillow, and the Aryan uncle who promised he'd do right by blood. Until it was Kendra rocking him in her arms, crying with him. Until they were both red-eyed, heads aching, sniffling and embarrassed.

Keith gradually caught his breath. He could hardly believe Kendra hadn't tossed him out or called the police. Instead, she had comforted him, and now was sitting and talking in her pretty print bra. He wondered if her panties matched. Sweet K. Why did she trust him? Her hair was rumpled where he'd crushed it in his fist; the corner of her mouth betrayed where Bam had hit her. God, he wanted to taste her, and it made him feel like shit. 

Keith kneeled down on the rug in front of Kendra, grasping her hand. 

"You gotta know, I would've died before I let those assholes touch you tonight. I'm sorry things went so far. I work with those guys, and I have to be careful. But I would have pulled the trigger for you. Even though I wanted to hate you. I could never let anyone hurt you."

Kendra pulled her hands back, silent for a long time. "I figured you must have hated me. I knew it wasn't my fault, but I carried a lot of guilt over what happened. I replayed our fight over and over in my mind. What if I'd told my dad to go fuck himself?"

Keith smirked. "Confrontation was never your style, K. I'm surprised he didn't ship you to a nunnery." 

They fell silent. Kendra thought of that night in The Meadow, when Keith touched her the way no one else had. She'd fantasized about it for years. He'd made her cum harder as a virgin than she'd ever done during sex. She'd tried teaching other guys his moves, but they lacked either the patience or the passion of her first. Undeniably, that's what she considered Keith, even though he'd left her intact. She wondered if he was still as sensual as she remembered.

Suddenly Kendra shivered; she'd forgotten that she wasn't wearing a top. Keith rubbed her arms to warm her, then kept up a gentle massage. His skin wanted contact with hers. It felt good, safe, and she yawned like a child. 

"I'm tired. It's been a long night," she said. 

Keith nodded, speaking hesitantly. "Do you mind if I crash here? I know you can take care of yourself, but I don't want to leave you alone tonight." 

Kendra debated silently whether she should leave Keith unsupervised in her home—he was clearly some sort of criminal now—but she was too drained. Besides, it was Keith. 

"You can take the couch. It lets out. I'll get you some linens," she said. She rose from the couch and Keith caught another glance at the twin tattoos on her back. The urge to follow her burned in his body, but he remained seated while she brought him a pillow, sheet and blanket.

"There's leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry," she said as she padded through the short hallway to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower."

She pinned her hair up in the mirror as the water ran, wondering about her own motives. Why had she announced her shower? Did she hope, on some level, that he would push his way in and join her? She'd spent the past six months making battery-operated love. But the prospect tonight seemed hollow compared to who was sitting on her couch. 

Kendra stepped in the steaming shower, welcoming the warmth pelting her skin. She used the rough side of her bath sponge to lather her neck, arms, breasts and legs, washing those animals' fingerprints off. Her stomach clenched at the memory of the fat one backhanding her. Fresh tears sprang, mixing in with the streams of warm water, and she battled fear until she remembered Keith was just a few feet away. Her Keith. A man now, like she was no longer a girl. Was his dick really as big as she remembered, or had she built it up in her head, having nothing to compare him with at the time? She flipped the sponge to its soft side for her mound, and spent more time than necessary massaging her kitty. She needed some good feelings after the night's events. 

The water started losing heat, so she reluctantly shut it off and climbed out of the tub. Steam was so thick, she could barely see a hand in front of her face. She smoothed coconut body butter into her skin and Vaseline on her feet, taking the time to freshen her toes with a bit of polish. She pushed away the idea that she was preparing for lovemaking. I'm just getting ready for bed, she told herself.

Kendra slipped on a silky robe and emerged from the bathroom. Gray light was already spilling through her windows. Keith reclined on the sofa, shoes off and eyes closed. Shaking her head, she spread the blanket over him. With his eyes shut, his face relaxed into the visage of the boy she used to know. She lightly stroked his hair, then on impulse leaned down and quickly brushed his soft lips with her own.

"Good night, Keith." 

"Good night, Kendra," he whispered, pulling her into a long, deep kiss. His lips were firm but tentative, giving her a chance to pull back. Kendra's heart swelled. She had forgotten what it was like to be with someone who loved her, adored her. She knew that's how Keith felt for her. She had always known. He stroked her back and bottom, the silky robe easing the friction of his rough hands. They moaned and sighed into each other, breaths reuniting, feeding on something they'd each been starved for. Until her body began to undulate, until his hands found purchase under the silk. He was hard as a brick as he traced the ridges where his mark was engraved in her skin. 

"When did you get this?"

He cradled her to his chest, and she fingered the tattoo on his left bicep. Buried in a tangle of burning Celtic crosses was a stylized "K." When she spoke, her voice was small.

"Right after you went away. I told you about it in a letter. Keith, why didn't you ever write me back?"

He stiffened. "Don't lie," he replied, a chill in his tone. "You never sent a single letter. That was the worst part—the hope. Eventually I stopped looking."

Kendra's face was pure confusion. "I wrote you every week! At first, anyway. Then every month—my dad sent them with the commissary check."

Now it was Keith's turn to be confused. "Your dad paid my commissary? Why? He hated me."

"My folks felt guilty, Keith. For not caring to ask why you were injured all the time. Why do you think you got a reduced sentence? That was Maria's influence. Dad felt paying was the least he could do; he said having money could keep certain elements off your back."

"Well, my skinhead uncle Charlie took the credit. He said the brothers were looking out for me because I was young. Your dad? Never sent a single letter." Keith's laugh, at first dry, grew bitter, then uncontrollable. It felt like it would never stop.

"It's okay, Kendra, you can laugh about it," he gasped. "The joke's on us."

"Fuck," she muttered. Then she began laughing too. It was too ridiculous. "Who'd have thought we'd end up like this?"

"Oh, just about everyone in Millville," he replied, wiping his eyes. "Who knew? The idiots were right." 

"Were they?" Kendra pushed her way off of him and rose, pausing to look down. It was morning now, and she looked magnificent even without sleep. Keith watched her walk to the bedroom, letting the robe flow from her body as she reached the door. She left it open. Comprehension took a few seconds, but as soon as it dawned, he was behind her in a flash.

"I've waited seven years for this," Keith said, nibbling at her throat. "Do you remember?" 

"Oh yeah," Kendra said. "I've learned a lot since then. I'm not a Hampshire virgin anymore."

"I shouldn't have left you one in the first place. Second biggest regret of my life."



The Violin Pt. 06



Keith stiffened, and his hands stilled their caress. 

"Don't lie." His voice had gone cold as stone. "You never sent a single letter. That was the worst part; the hope. Eventually I stopped looking."

Kendra's face was pure confusion. She arched up so she could look him in the face. "I wrote you every week! At first, anyway. Then every month—my dad sent them with the commissary check."

Now it was Keith's turn to be confused. "Your dad paid my commissary? Why? He hated me."

"My folks felt guilty, Keith. For not caring to ask why you were hurt all the time. Why do you think you got a reduced sentence? That was Maria's influence. Dad felt paying was the least he could do; he said having money could keep certain elements off your back."

Keith was silent a long time, dueling emotions battling across his face. When he finally spoke, the corner of his mouth kept twitching.

"Well, my skinhead uncle Charlie took the credit. He said the brothers were looking out for me because I was so young. And your dad? Never sent a single letter." 

Keith's laugh, at first dry, grew bitter, then uncontrollable. It felt like it would never stop quaking in his chest.

"It's okay, Kendra, you can laugh about it," he gasped. "The joke's on us."

"Fuck," she muttered. Then she began laughing too. It was too ridiculous. "Who'd have thought we'd end up like this?"

"Oh, just about everyone in Millville," he replied, wiping his eyes. "Can you believe it? The dummies were actually right. Jesus." 

Kendra bit her lip. She raked her fingers through her tresses. Where Keith was bitterly amused, she was shocked and pissed at fate's extra twist of the knife. 

"Were they?" Kendra pushed her way off of him and rose, pausing to look down. She seemed to be making a decision. It was morning now, and she looked magnificent even without sleep. After a short, hard stare into his eyes, Kendra turned on her heel and walked to the bedroom. Keith watched the robe flow from her body as she reached the door, leaving it open. Comprehension took a few seconds, but as soon as it dawned, he was through the door in a flash. 

Unlike the sensuous drapings of her youth, Kendra's bedroom was now minimalist, almost clinical. The walls were a pale blue tint, her few toiletries laid out on her dresser in military precision. It was a marked change from the apartment's public space, and he wondered if her heart had grown as cold.

Right now, he didn't think so. He leaned in and inhaled her, marveling at the heat emanating from her skin. 

"I've waited seven years for this," Keith murmured, voice husky. He ran his fingers lightly down her body, noting a fine trembling in her frame. "Do you remember that night in the Meadow?" 

"Hell yes," Kendra said, biting her lips as he played her body like an instrument. She flashed back to that moment in the emerald chapel, right before it ended, when he had thrust so hard she thought he would break her. She'd wanted him to do it, to take her. The pain was nothing compared to the pleasure he had given her, and would make him hers, besides. That thought, along with his cock, had toppled her into a squirting, jerking mess without him ever consummating the act. She wondered if he could still move her like that. But she had some new tricks to show him. 

"I've learned a lot since then. I'm not a Hampshire virgin anymore."

"I shouldn't have left you one in the first place. Second biggest regret of my life." 

They walked to the bed hugged up tight, begrudging even an inch of space between them. Keith lightly dusted her chocolate nipples, feeling them stiffen and bud. In prison, he'd jerked himself raw to the thought of her stacked-solid titties, and they were bigger now than they'd been in high school. He couldn't wait to bury his face between them. 

Kendra felt him pressing into her backside, propelling her toward the bed. She didn't want foreplay; she didn't need it. She'd been waiting for this seven years, too. She watched him strip in the brightening sunlight; each muscle defined against his pale skin. His cock filled almost her whole field of vision. It was every bit as long as she remembered, and thick as a small soup can. It jerked in time with his pulse, the fat, shiny head pointed at her like a purple torpedo. Kendra breathed a little faster at the sight and crawled toward him. She looked into his eyes as she reached for his dick.

"I never got to return the favor," she said. 

It was Keith's turn to tremble as she plied her full lips along his length, tasting his ridges and the blue, y-shaped vein along the belly of his cock, ignoring his hands' helpful direction in her soft, thick hair. She continued stroking him with her tongue, denying them both, for a little longer, the pleasure of taking him fully into her mouth and sucking his pole like a Hoover. 

Keith let out a shaky sigh. 

"Fuck, Kendra, still teasin' after all this time? Time to show me what you can do." 

Keith roughly caressed the sides of her face, sloppifying her strokes, then pulled her mouth deeper on his dick without permission. It got her pussy dripping like a faucet. His balls smacked her chin, sending droplets of her own saliva splashing her cheeks and neck, and she moaned deep in her throat each time. 

She felt so hot, swallowing eight and nine of his inches on each stroke. She was good and nasty, keeping eye contact as his dick forced her to drool onto her wide-set tits. Keith imagined bending her backward until he was all the way in and unloading straight down her gullet, but he didn't plan on wasting an orgasm on her mouth. Not with Kendra. He was going in her, all the way. 

Keith gripped the base of his cock and slowly extracted it, taking a moment to breathe. But she shot him such a sexy, hungry look he fed his dick back between her lips for a few more delicious strokes. Kendra really loves a cock in her mouth, he thought. Wonder how she got so good at sucking. A flare of jealousy tightened his balls as she closed her eyes in ecstasy, slurping on his dick. 

"Mmhh, Keith, yes," Kendra moaned between breaths, "always wanted you, always want this." Kendra felt right for the first time in forever, with Keith's dick in her mouth. Never having had it, she was unaware how much she'd missed it until right then. She sucked like he held the antidote, rubbing her face all over his groin. Keith's sac tightened against her cheeks, drawing up closer to his body.

"That's enough, sweetheart," Keith rasped, afraid to let it go on much longer. He parted her legs, exposing her slit to the cool air. 

Here, too, she was different from high school: now she was smooth, hairless as a mango. Her wetness sparkled in the morning light, and without another thought he clambered over her. They were so anxious for each other, his long legs tangled in hers. Four limbs thrashed briefly before he sorted it out and rotated his cock to her cunt. Her body clutched at him with an indecent squelch.

Keith tried to go slow, but when her slick heat hit his tip, he lost his mind a little. Her folds parted easily for the first few inches, then offered resistance. He began to corkscrew his thickness into her, Kendra's guttural grunts reaching him from a distance. 

"Hold on, let's make this easier," she said. She shimmied out from under him and got on her knees, doggy-style, gripping her metal headboard. With a challenging grin over her shoulder, she wiggled her round, brown bubble butt at him. 

He gripped one cheek and moved it up and down, marveling at its soft yet firm feel. 

"It's not nice to tease, Kendra," he warned, lining up behind her. "Especially with this," he smacked her ass sharply, "for a target." 

Keith snaked his arm under her stomach to support her, squeezing her big breasts, and swiftly, steadily sunk into her depths. 

Her moan morphed into a low shriek by the time they locked together, shaking. He'd split her like a pig, and her pussy fluttered continuously around his wide shaft. She bit her lips but couldn't stop the squeaks emanating from her throat. Keith let her squirm on his dick for a few seconds, but her juicy body had him all worked up. He stirred his cock around in her depths for a few seconds, feeling her stretch and give. Then with a deep breath, he started stroking. 

No warning could have prepared him for the way her pussy gripped on the upstroke, or how her rump massaged his shaft on each plunge. He tried to hold off on pushing his full length into her, but the dip in her back taunted him as much as her soft, pleading mewls, and he heard her breasts bouncing and slapping wetly together from the force of his thrusts. His long body covered hers; he rubbed her fat clit and used her titties as fleshy handles to set a steady, punishing pace.

"God, Keith, yesss," she hissed, sinking her torso lower, deepening the arch in her back. He slid in easier, as much from the angle as her increased lubrication. 

"That's it, Kendra, that's it," he murmured. "Get every inch in this tight. little. pussy." He punctuated each word with a thrust. 

Kendra could barely think straight. Somewhere it registered that they weren't using protection, and on a deeper level she couldn't admit to, she preferred it that way. It would serve her dad right if Keith didn't pull out; if he shot off a gallon of sperm inside her and knocked her up with his baby. At the thought, a huge contraction spasmed through her and she screamed out.

When her pussy grabbed his shaft, Keith's face contorted like a wildman. He gripped the front of her thighs and started deep-dicking her, banging into her ass so that it rippled continuously in waves. Kendra squealed and began to resist. She tried to separate but he followed her, hands on her shoulders, letting her pull away just so he could buck back into her like an animal. 

"Still teasing, huh," he grunted, fucking her roughly. "But you asked for it, and you're gonna take it." Her tight, silky pussy felt even better when she struggled against him. He pushed that thought away but continued to thrust, diddling her nipples to keep her stimulated. 

Kendra's mind reeled. It was the best sex of her life, but Keith had her pinned and was using her like a rubber doll, with seemingly no intention of stopping. Her no's fell on deaf ears as he locked his legs behind hers to prevent her from twisting away, pumping into her like a piston.

"Keith," she finally shouted, "what the fuck!" 

"Sorry, sorry," he panted, shamefaced. "I got...carried away. It's been awhile."

"Just remember, I'm in this, too. OK?"

Kendra turned so they were face to face and tenderly touched his brow. He kissed her palm and rested his face in her hand with a little smile.

"I know. I was always something of an asshole, and time has NOT improved it. But I'll try to keep it under control."

"You better," she tsked.

Kendra gently forced him onto his back and straddled him, taking a moment to gaze down at his face. Her authoritative stance sent a thrill through him; she looked like a warrior, ready to take as much pleasure as she gave. She cupped his wet scrotum and slid her hands up his shaft, reminding him of how she'd touched him before. Then, she'd been curious and innocent. Now she was skilled, but just as sensuous. She dragged her fingertips along the head of his cock deliberately, then held it while she sank onto it all the way.

Her pretty face crinkled the deeper she took him, and he could almost see his rod pushing through her belly. But she didn't stop until he was fully seated in her, her breath coming in little moans. 

Kendra struggled to get herself together. She had to close her eyes to check the sob that rose suddenly in her throat. Images flashed behind her eyelids: His 18-year-old self behind the wheel of that beat-up Ford, illuminated and gazing at her like she was the sun. The way he'd stroke her hair between his fingers like fine cashmere. The morning he was taken away, when she woke up from a dream reaching out for him. None of the guys in the seven years between them could fill the hole he left in her heart. All that changed now. She started rolling her hips.

"Come back to me, baby," she whispered. It grew into a chant. 

She started off riding like a jockey, with her feet planted securely on either side of him on the bed, a nice, steady bounce that jiggled her big tits.

"Come back to me, please."

"Oh, God." Keith flinched with delight, trying to keep his cool, and Kendra laughed. She felt so good seeing the pleasure she gave him, feeling him hit those spots inside no one else could reach. The rhythm gave her more control over the depth of penetration, and his thrusts. But Keith hadn't waited this long to see her remain in control. 

"I'm here, I'm right here," he said, pulling her down so she rested on her knees. It was closer, more intimate, with less room to back up from his cock. The change cranked up the pain/pleasure factor: he was pounding her deep, and it tripled the pressure on her clit. Kendra struggled to hang on while he pumped up into her like a roller coaster. Eventually she gave in to him. She was on top, but he was in charge of the ride. Her titties flailed wildly as he jerked her back and forth over his cock, and she grabbed his chest for balance. 

"Hang on, baby," he grunted, cupping her ass, "we're not done yet."

Kendra caught her wind, finally getting used to the feeling of so much cock. He was stretching her to the limit, but she loved it. She found herself grinding down at the top of each thrust, pushing him further, squeezing him tighter in her little box. She caught a reflection of herself in the mirror: panting, hair wild, ravenous. She saw in his eyes that the tables had turned. She was in the driver's seat, she was the goddess. Gripping the headboard for leverage, she swirled her hips in figure eights, popping her pussy muscles so divinely it made them both shiver.

Their desire ricocheted off each other, growing stronger with every passing second, and Kendra felt the tremors warming her belly. Keith thrust up hard enough to bounce her in the air and her knees jerked on her expensive sheets, as though she were treading water. Her heart felt like it would explode. Her muscles seized up and she felt a single tear work its way down her face.

The shouts, tears and blazing morning sun all took them over the edge. He squeezed her against him so tightly it crushed the breath from her lungs and managed four or five final, sharp strokes as she babbled incoherently, pussy sucking the life from his fat cock.

"I love you," he wheezed, fucking through her convulsions, through her cries, her shuddering climax, firing off a lifetime of pent-up seed directly into her womb. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

**

It was afternoon when they began to stir, or more accurately, when Keith did. Kendra was sleeping the sleep of satisfied women everywhere, head on his shoulder, dead to the world. Keith shook his head with a smile. He could hardly believe his fortune. He was reminded of a song from Sound of Music, one of Kendra's favorite movies:

"Nothing comes from nothing. Nothing ever could. So somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good."

He got up to pee, then went ahead and showered. He was headed into the kitchen to fix them a late breakfast when he saw the clock over her oven. It was after 1, and he had to see his P.O. at 2 p.m. Stifling a swear, Keith raced back to the bedroom.

"Kendra, Kendra baby, wake up," he shook her. She opened her eyes, groggy and confused.

"Wha-is it?"

He kissed her, hard and fast. "I have to see my parole officer, and I've gotta be there in half an hour," he explained. She sat up and the sheet slipped off her shoulders, nearly undoing his resolve.

"You'll come back?"

He kissed her again, this time a little slower. "Try and stop me," he replied.

Outside her door, Keith broke into a light jog. If he made it to the train in five minutes and caught a car immediately, he would only be ten minutes late. He was three blocks away when a white Crown Vic pulled up next to him. The passenger window rolled down slow.

"Hey lover, need a ride?" Cody smirked at him from the interior.

Keith bit back the urge to spit in his face.

"I'm good, man. Gotta see the P.O."

"Well hop in, I'll drop you downtown."

Much as Keith hated this prick, he needed the lift. Reluctantly, he popped up the handle and slid into the vinyl interior, and Cody angled to car toward the city's center.

"New wheels?"

"Yep, Pops caught wind of some old cruisers before they got to auction. Picked up half a fleet."

"Must be good, being an ex-cop and a boss."

Cody shrugged. He didn't much care to hear his father praised if he wasn't benefiting from it. 

"So Kaine, I don't see a scratch on you. How was it last night?"

"S'okay. Not much to write home about."

"Really? It must've been better than that," Cody eyed him shrewdly. "Seeing as you spent the night and all. I could hear her wailing from the stoop."

Keith's stomach dropped. "You followed me?"

Cody cackled. "Don't look so surprised, bro. My dad puts GPS tracking on all the grunts' phones. And I had to see what made little Miss Lawyer so special you couldn't even share. Wanna tell me how you convinced her to take you home?"

Keith rubbed his face, calculating fast. If Cody knew where Kendra lived, Bam would, too. She wasn't safe. I should've shot this asshole when I had the chance, he thought, blood boiling. But he had to stay cool. 

"I didn't feel like bustin' my rocks in an alley, so I turned on the charm. No big deal," he said, hoping tp end Cody's line of questioning.

"Pretty motherfucker. Sir Lancelot with a fucking hard-on," Cody laughed. "Well I'm glad you feel that way, cause truth be told, Bam and me weren't too keen on the way you cut us out of the fun. And by the sounds coming from her windows, you two were definitely having fun." Cody paused, scrutinizing his reaction to his next words. "We're gonna pay her a visit. If she'll do you, no reason she should hold out on us. You ain't no better than we are."

Cody braked hard, startling Keith. "Here's your stop, Kaine. Say thank you and get the fuck out."



The Violin Pt. 07



Kendra couldn't move. Keith had loved her to the nth degree and she felt the sweet residual ache in every muscle of her body, especially down there. She giggled to herself, stretching in bed. 

"God, what have I been missing my whole life?" she mused. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up from it. But eventually, she had to get up. Keith had been gone over an hour, and she wanted to do something special by the time he came back. Maybe dinner? She surveyed her kitchen. Everything looked different, now. That one steak she'd bought wouldn't cut it. She'd have to pick up another for her man.

She was deciding on sides when her phone rang. The Evanses' number flashed across the screen, and her temperature jumped by 100 degrees.

"You are unbelievable, Dad," she started, ready to fight. 

"No sweetie, it's me," Maria's honeyed voice came through the lines. "How's your weekend going? Were those case studies I sent you helpful?"

"Yes ma'am, they were. Thank you." She wandered through the house as she talked, straightening up and retrieving random articles of clothing that had been left behind last night. "You'll never guess who I ran into last night. Keith." Her voice squeaked just a bit on his name. The call waiting beeped, but she ignored it and waited for her mother's reaction.

Maria went silent on the other end. Over the years, she'd seen the parade of guys Kendra had brought home. None of them were good enough, in her opinion. Secretly, she'd always wondered if she and Robert had made a mistake forbidding her to see Keith. It was obvious how they felt about each other. Now he was even less of a desirable option for her daughter than before. He'd gone from being a poor boy with limited choices to an ex-con with none. But she couldn't deny the happiness in Kendra's voice. She hadn't heard her baby girl sound that bubbly in a long time. 

"Uh-huh," she gently teased her. "And are his shoes under your bed?"

"N-nooo," Kendra stammered. It amazed her how her mom always knew when she'd gotten some. "But they might have been at some point. Oh my God, mom, it's like no time has passed at all. He's the same Keith."

"Well, just be cautious, darling. Six years is a long time, and there's no telling what he had to do, willingly or not, to survive incarceration."

Kendra came across her skirt by the bedroom door. She picked it up and jumped when she saw it covered Keith's .45-caliber pistol. Reluctantly, she admitted her mom could be right. Wanting it out of sight but not knowing what to do with the thing, she put it on the kitchen counter, under a dish towel.

"Mom, I want to ask you something. Did Dad ever send Keith my letters? He said he never got any of them." 

"Oh, Lord. I knew this day would come," Maria intoned. "I told him it was wrong, but honey, your father was just trying to protect you."

"For just one minute, can you stop defending him! What gives him the right? Who does he think he is?" Kendra was so angry, she ignored the beep of another incoming call. This was too important. "He calls it protection, but it's really just about control. You guys. You made me feel like a race-traitor and a whore, simply because a boy loved me and I loved him back. And then you betrayed me again! How could you be so cruel?"

"Honey I just wanted the best for you. I never ascribed to your dad's racial obsession. But Keith, nice as he was, wasn't the best. That's all. Once you got to college, I figured you would move on."

What garbage, Kendra dismissed. Her mom always fell in line with her dad, no matter what. He was the one she needed to speak to. 

"Put him on the phone."

"He's not here. He's at a conference in Portland."

"Typical." Just then, her doorbell rang. Kendra shrugged on her robe and went to answer it. But when she looked out the peephole, she couldn't see anyone. Tightening her sash, she opened the door. There on her entry mat was a single white rose. Confused, she looked to her left and right but no one was around.

"Who was that," her mom asked.

"No one, I guess. Look mom, I've got to run to the store. I'll talk to you later."

"All right, sweetheart. Remember, I love you."

Kendra took a quick shower and pulled on some sweats, making a mental list of items to buy: steak, wine, beer—he seemed like a beer man—condoms, asparagus and ice cream. They could talk more another day. Tonight, she just wanted to celebrate. Maybe she'd make a cake. She hurried to the gourmet grocer a few blocks away. Things were expensive but of a high-quality there.

"Hey, Miss Lady," the cashier said. The young teen treated her to a bit of light flirting whenever she came in. She gave the dark boy a friendly nod and continued through the bright aisles to the back. 

"Give me your finest grass-fed, organic cut," she sang out happily to the butcher. 

Gus raised an eyebrow. The pretty black lady was always pleasant, but she seemed downright giddy today. 

"Sure thing. You must be celebrating."

"I am! How did you know?" She pointed out the steak she wanted and he wrapped it in white butcher paper.

"It's written all over your face," he grinned back. "Good to see you smiling. Whatever it is, congratulations." He handed her the package with a wink. 

When she went to ring out, the cashier shot her a concerned look. He was slower than usual about bagging up her few purchases.

"Miss Lady," he whispered, "I think some dude is following you."

"What?"

"He came in after you, looked around and headed to the back. Then he came up front right before you and got in a white car, but he didn't pull off. I think he's waiting for you to come out. He gives me a bad vibe. Want me to walk out with you? At least to the end of the block."

Kendra's heart began pounding. "That's not necessary, sweetie. But can you come with me and point the car out?"

"Yes, ma'am." The boy hopped the counter and insisted she stay a few steps behind him until he could sight the guy. But when they got outside, it appeared to be for naught.

"I swear he was parked right there," the teen said, pointing. "He must've driven off. It was an older model, big body white sedan." He hung his head, frustrated. "Maybe it was nothing."

"Thank you for looking out, anyway," she said, patting his shoulder. She dug into her purse and offered him a few dollars, but he shook his head no. 

"You don't pay me for that," he chided her. "I'm supposed to look out for you." 

"All right, little man. Excuse me," she apologized jokingly. "I was just trying to put some money in your pocket."

"You can put your number in my pocket," he replied boldly. "You too fine not to have a man somewhere. He ought to be watching out for you."

"That's what I've got you for, right?" Kendra blew him a kiss and started down the block. She glanced over her shoulder to see the boy watching her retreat with interest. Kids!

Back at home, she washed and seasoned the steak, then let it rest while preparing the asparagus. She shaved garlic over the spears, drizzled them with olive oil and sprinkled sea salt on them while the oven warmed up. She was just sliding the pan of vegetables into the warmth when she heard her toilet flush.

She screamed as heavy footfalls led a man around the corner. 

"Niall! What the hell are you doing in my house?"

The heavier-set man who looked more like her father than she cared to admit held up a key. "I was just dropping this off. I forgot I'd had two made." 

Kendra's hand drifted from where it had flown up to her neck, as she slowly calmed. She could kick herself—Niall drove a pearl-white 4-door Lexus. He must've been at the store. She fixed him with a glare, which he ignored as he strolled into the kitchen and leaned against the fridge. 

"I like your hair that way, more natural. I meant to tell you that at the office, but you know, too many ears around. They probably already thought we were banging anyway; the only two blacks in the firm."

"That's cliché," Kendra retorted.

"What's not cliché was your ass, that first day you came in. I pushed hard for you, I didn't care how it looked. You had the credentials and the goods. Even now, I don't regret it."

Kendra laughed at him. "I wish you were feeling as generous last week when you ripped me a new one in front of the partners for missing that precedent."

Niall shrugged, as if to say Oh, well. "Are you cooking? You must be expecting company. Or already had it, by the looks of your bedroom."

Kendra slammed down a pot. "My bedroom is none of your business."

"Relax, babe. I was just looking for one of my ties. You know, the black one?"

Indeed she did. Kendra suppressed the Pavlovian urge to close her eyes. Niall would blindfold her with the heavy silk tie and do whatever he wished to her. It had started off exciting, but as their sexual activity waned she'd seen it less and less. Niall eased up behind her and she whipped around, pushing him away.

"Come on, baby, I know how much you liked that tie. And what we used to do with it. I miss my Thundercat," he mused, using his pet name for her sex. "I don't mind if you've met someone else. But why can't we share?"

"Because I'm not a commodity to be split for your convenience. Now unless you've got anything else to pick up or drop off, I really have to ask you to get on your way." 

Niall's light-brown complexion mottled, the only clue that he was angry. When he spoke, his dulcet tone was as modulated as ever. "Your dad called me last week, said he hadn't heard from you in a while and wanted me to check up on you. I'm guessing you didn't tell him we were over?"

Kendra fixed her lips in a straight line and gazed hard at her door.

"I get it, I shouldn't have let myself in. Talking with your dad, I just thought you might be open to working some things out. That's all. I'll see you in the morning." He kissed her hair lightly and walked out the door, pulling it closed behind him. Kendra waited a beat, then ran to lock it.

Before she even made it back to the kitchen, a frantic knock brought her back to the door. Pissed, she ripped it open without looking. "What?!" She yelled. Down at her feet was another white rose.

"Dammit, Niall," she bent to snatch it off the ground; she would rip it up and toss it in the trash. On the way up, a fat crotch bulged in her face.

"Hey, Ivy. I hope you liked the flowers," Bam said.

She jumped to slam the door, but the big man moved with astonishing speed and shoved her inside the house. He towered over her prone body, laughing in delight as she scrambled backwards on her hands.

"This is nice, real nice," he said with genuine appreciation, catching her in the ribs with his foot as she tried to stand. "No, you stay down. Didja like the visit from my boy Kaine? I heard you REALLY did. I mean, I literally heard. The whole neighborhood could hear you going at it. Made me hard as cut glass, outside under your window. I might've left some stains on the brick, heehee."

He was licking his lips as he talked to her, his eyes bright with anticipation.

"When I guessed you scream pretty, I had no idea. You should be in the opera, sister. But Cody'll be here soon, and we'll get you there. He's making sure Kaine—or Keith? That's what you call him?—making sure he stays busy for the next couple hours. We won't have any interruptions, I promise."

Kendra was seemingly in a state of shock. She shivered on the floor, drawing her knees up to her chest like a frightened little kid, protecting her ribs and other weak points. Bam liked thinking she was immobilized with fear, but she was sizing him up. She knew he favored knives, and now knew was quick for his size. Strong and limber, too. Then again, so was she. 

"Mister, may I please get up?" She spoke in a little girl voice, so low she could barely be heard.

"May you? I like that, sweetheart. Ohh, I'm gonna enjoy this. What you want to get up for? You wanna undo my pants?" Contradicting himself, he unzipped slowly, enjoying her eyes widening to the sound of his zipper. "No, I think I like you on the floor, just like that. Just watching. We can get warmed up while Cody gets here. I might not have a Zulu dick like Kaine, but you're the kinda bitch that gets wet for any cock, aren't ya? It's just gotta be hard and in front of you, don't it?"

He pulled out his five-inch worm, slipping it fast up and down in his fist. "Yeah, yeah, keep your knees up. I can smell your pussy through those sweats." 

Suddenly, Bam sniffed the air. "You got something in the stove?"

"Ah, shoot! My veggies are burning!" Kendra's exaggerated diction made her sound both younger and dumber than she was. "Please Mister, let me take them out. My fire alarm's really sensitive and the oven's on broil."

Bam laughed. "I guess we don't want fire fighters interrupting our soiree. Go ahead." He helped her up, but paused before she could gain full footing, keeping her suspended off-balance. He shook her lightly. "Don't try anything stupid, or I'll have to hurt you. And I don't want to hurt you. Yet."

Kendra nodded and walked slowly to the kitchen, Bam following her closely. She glanced around for a potholder and saw the yellow dish cloth she'd folded over Keith's gun. She'd forgotten all about it. Blowing out her tension with a shaky sigh, she reached for it, keeping the oversize towel bunched to hide the weapon. She scooped up the potholder with her other hand and opened the oven. 

"Smells good, Ivy. We may have time for a snack afterwards, if you can still swallow," Bam joked. 

Kendra just set her lips grimly. As she set the pan of asparagus on the stovetop, the door cracked and a shrill whistle sounded. Bam responded with a chirp of his own. Cody shut and latched the door behind him, strutting into her space like he owned it. He wore a burgundy leather jacket on the warm spring day.

"You got her in the kitchen already, Bam? She ain't no housewife."

Bam turned to respond and Kendra kicked in the side of his knee as hard as she could. The big man crumpled and she charged into the living room toward Cody, the .45 aimed dead at his face. 

"You and your fat friend are going to sit down and shut up until the police arrive," she shouted over Bam's hoarse screams. 

"She busted my knee! That bitch!" He moaned from the kitchen floor.

"Get your ass in here," Kendra commanded. "You too, on the floor." 

She motioned toward Cody with the pistol. He eyed her hard for a long moment, then raised his hands and sat on the floor by the door. 

"No, over there," she pointed toward the couch.

Cody didn't move.

"I said move!" She kicked at him and he grabbed her foot, yanking her to the ground. Her head bounced painfully on the hardwood, momentarily stunning her. She held onto the gun but just barely, kicking on pure instinct. 

"The problem with cunts and guns," Cody rasped, grappling with her on the floor, "is they don't know shit. You still got the safety on, baby." 

He climbed on top of her, rendering her lower body strength useless, and pinned her wrists back. Kendra bucked and twisted, bit and headbutted him, but Cody was relentless. He twisted her hand holding the gun, completely unafraid.

"I'm a wiry sonofabitch, ain't I?" he taunted. "Shit, you're turning me on, baby. You want it right now, don'tcha. By the door, so all your neighbors can hear you creaming on another white cock?" 

Kendra freed one arm and elbowed Cody in the face, then switched gun hands and slammed the butt across the bridge of his nose. She flipped him off but kept hitting him and hitting him in the face until he lay mostly still, except for a few weak shudders.

"Dumb sonofabitch. I had the safety on so I wouldn't KILL your ass." 

She hocked a fat loogie in the middle of his face. It took everything she had not to step on his windpipe and lean. Instead, she snatched up the phone with adrenaline-stiff fingers and dialed 9-11.

+++

Kendra was hailed as a hero by the news media and her community. Even at the job, she was accorded more respect. The police, however, had more questions.

"Where did you get the gun, Ms. Evans?"

"I pulled it off the big one when we were in the kitchen."

"Was this before or after you shattered his kneecap?"

"The same time, I guess."

"That weapon has been used in the commission of several felonies. But they don't fit the profile of the suspect. Bartholomew Ashman is a sadist with a known predilection for knives. They're his specialty. Why do you think he was carrying a gun?"

"I'm sure I have no idea."

"Are you sure there weren't three attackers?"

"No! Why would you ask that?"

"Because you said these men had harassed you on the train earlier, then apparently followed you home to finish what they'd started."

"That's correct."

"Well, a couple catching the same train early Sunday morning witnessed something that we think is related. They called later, to say they saw a woman fitting your description being harassed by three men, two fitting the assailants' descriptions. You sure there wasn't another man present?"

"No. It was only the two. Can I ask you something?"

"Please."

"If they cared so much, why the fuck didn't they help me then?"

+++ 

Keith was going crazy not talking to Kendra. After his appointment, one of Cody's men insisted on picking him up. The grunt said "the boss" needed to see him ASAP. But when he got in the car, he'd been driven outside of city limits and pushed out of the car. Keith called a couple of brothers but no one picked up, so with only a $20 to his name he raced back as quickly as he could, on foot, cab, three buses and a train. When he reached Kendra's street, the brownstone had been barricaded as a crime scene and police were everywhere. Keith fought his way through the crowd of onlookers to get to the front.

"What happened?" he asked a neighbor.

"Two animals broke in her house and raped that nice girl!" the violet-haired old lady replied. "Isn't it terrible? Poor thing, she's just a single gal trying to make it on her own out here. I think she shot one of them."

The words ripped a hole in his gut. Keith saw Kendra wrapped in a blanket, surrounded by EMT. She looked shell-shocked. His bones ached to go to her, but he couldn't risk coming anywhere near the scene. He was in agony not knowing what had happened. The 10 o'clock news reported it as attempted rape, which helped him breathe easier. But he didn't have her number, so he couldn't call. He prayed the police would set up a patrol car to sit outside her place, in case one of the gang got retaliation on the mind, even though that would prevent him from visiting her as well.

I'm just going to lay low until the heat dies down, he decided. But a small voice inside him said he should do the exact opposite. She needs me, she's going through all this because of me; how can I hide to save my own skin? A dozen times a day he had this argument, and he'd catch himself walking to the train, or away from it, depending on which side won. Eventually, he couldn't take it. Wednesday he posted up on her stoop and knocked on the door all night. She didn't answer.

Thursday night and Friday were repeats of the same. He didn't know where she was or what she was doing. Finally, on the chance their number had stayed the same, he thought to call the Evans house.

"Hello?"

"Kendra! Baby, are you OK? I came by three nights this week and couldn't catch you."

"This is Maria. Kendra's asleep—who's calling?"

Keith took a deep breath. "Hello Mrs. Evans. It's Keith."



The Violin Pt. 08



Keith took a deep breath. "Hello Mrs. Evans. It's Keith."

+++

"Keith Everet?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm out of prison now. Kendra told me what you did for me, pushing to get my sentence reduced. I never got a chance to thank you."

Tears sprang to Maria's eyes. Kendra had come home despondent and jumpy, and last night had woke the whole house screaming from a nightmare. The mother worried her daughter was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. She remembered how happy Kendra had sounded just a week ago, telling her Keith was back in her life.

"You never mind about that, now. You're doing OK? You have a job?"

"Sort of. I'm definitely looking."

"How about a car?"

"Not really. Why do you ask, Mrs. Evans?"

"Kendra needs you. Can you come out to visit this weekend?"

Keith couldn't believe it. "I'll move hell and high water to get there."

"How about I just send you a ticket today?"

Keith hung up. It was several hours until the bus left, and he had some business to handle first. He made a few calls, then boxed up his phone, keys and $40,000 cash. He needed to talk to Mr. Quinn.

Quinn's clubhouse could hardly be called such. From the outside, it was a run-down mechanic's garage, with heaps of rusting junk obscuring the view of the windows. Inside, on the first floor, it was barely better. But the second floor was the private den of Mr. Quinn. Keith had never seen the inside of his lounge.

"Kaine for Quinn," he spoke into the downstairs buzzer system.

"Quinn says wait," came the gruff reply. 

Kaine sat on one of the old metal desks, watching new guys and some regulars come and go. They nodded to the soldier with respect—he'd done his bid honorably, keeping his mouth shut and never shirking an order. That's because early on, Kaine had realized that despite the patina of racism Quinn used to attract the slower members, the operation was more about making money than anything else. The drug game, like any other business, thrived on consistent effort and a well-run organization. The Nazi thing just gave it a distribution network.

On the strength of his uncle's recommendation, he'd gotten a meeting, then quickly made himself indispensable to the crew. Where he was involved, there was no muss and no fuss. People paid on time; if not, they got a swift and brutal message that served as an example for everyone else. But he wasn't gratuitous. Pain was a necessary tool, but it wasn't the reason he joined up. He'd joined up so he could make it out as intact as possible, plain and simple, without having to learn how to suck a good dick or take one up the ass. Not that sex wasn't also a weapon. Word got out about his cock soon after his first shower, and he'd had to make it known several times with his fists that he wasn't interested in a "girlfriend," secret or otherwise. 

Now that he was out of jail, though, he wondered why he'd clung to the organization. He hated these guys. Most of them were assholes and idiots, or both, like Cody. It wasn't the money, though it was good money. Keith was doing much better funds-wise than a high school dropout had any right to expect. But he'd always been so poor, he had no idea what to do with it. Shopping made him nervous. He lived on canned food, slept in a rented room and took public transportation. He didn't even drink much; it reminded him too much of his father. He just socked his pay away in a series of safety deposit boxes, waiting for...something. Maybe waiting for today. With that bright thought filling his head, he jumped when the buzzer sounded. 

"Upstairs."

At the apex of the stairs, a heavy metal barn door slid across its track to reveal the top level of the warehouse. There, Quinn held court among Italian leather sofas and flat screen TVs, billiards tables and a bar. The short, dark-haired older man wore a Members Only jacket and the air of a cop free from the restraint of pretending to be law-abiding. 

"Let's go in my office," he said, opening the private doors. He shooed out a gaggle of high school girls doing lines of coke on his desk and sat down behind it.

"What can I do for you, Kaine? You've never wasted my time trying to get a meeting before, so I figured it had to be important."

"Thank you, Mr. Quinn. Just wanted to let you know about a situation."

"Oh yeah? What's up?"

"The black girl Cody and Bam got popped for. They gotta let it go," Keith replied. "I know he wants to take her out. But he can't."

Quinn smiled like the thought amused him, crows feet crinkling the corners of his eyes. "And why's that?" 

"She's got connections to the DA's office, judges, the goddamn attorney general. It'll bring a storm of scrutiny if the guys keep messing with her. You don't want that." 

"This is what you call me for? To protect the black slut that put my son in the hospital? Nah, naah," Quinn waved his hands, looking for another angle. "If this is bout that little mess with the gun, I got it straightened out. Your piece is out of evidence. Now, I'm going to hang on to it for a while," he paused to let the threat sink in, "but I can let you hold something comparable in its place. I am curious about one thing." Quinn stood, leaning his hands on the mirrored desk top. "How exactly did she come to have possession of your weapon when you weren't there?"

Keith shuffled his deck, calculating with platinum speed the mask Quinn would most likely buy. The Ray. 

"I fucked her. I know, she's a nigger. But if you saw the ass on this one," he sucked his teeth. "It's when I was banging her that she told me about all the lawyers and judges and shit in her family."

Quinn's gaze was like a laser: cold, impersonal, emotionless. He was simply looking for a lying tell. After a minute or so, he spoke slowly. 

"And you mean to tell me," he queried, "that the pussy was so good, you left your piece behind?"

Keith shrugged. "I couldn't take it with me to see my PO, so I stashed it. I planned to come back and hit it some more, anyway. Didn't know Cody and Bam wanted her, too."

Quinn started to guffaw. "Well, hell, it's pussy! Even monkey pussy. But there's a problem, a-ha-hah," he chortled. "Look son, we all like to play in the jungle every now and then. But these are your brothers we're talking about. And my son. He's gotta be satisfied somehow."

Keith inclined his head at the box. "Cody's been insulted, and a man values his pride. This should help." He pushed the box toward Quinn, who quirked his brow when he saw the bills.

"That's 40," Keith said. "That's to buy her debt. I can do ten more by the end of the week, your cut for brokering the deal. I'm beating the usual 15 percent by five." 

Quinn smiled. "That must be some mighty good pussy, to be worth 50 grand."

"It's not just that. I've gotta lay low for a while, get a straight job. My P.O. is really on my back, watching me for organized affiliations or gang activity. It was risky just coming here today, but I owed you the respect of a face-to-face. I'm not going back to the box for anybody."

"Days like razors and nights full of rats," Quinn quoted Bukowski. He leaned in close. "I want you to know, you're not fooling anyone, son. She's got you by the short hairs—it's all in your face. You think she can make you a different man, but she can't. No one can. You've done what you've done and you are what you are. I've seen many men do better and come out worse."

He walked over to a window, looking out over the parking lot. "I'll see what I can do as far as Cody, but I'm not making any promises. You and your lady might want to go on vacation for a while. And look-" he turned back to Keith with a hard stare. "You've got to let this go, too. No retaliations. No clapback. If I accept this cut, all beef between you boys is squashed."

Keith stood. "That's all I can ask. Yes sir. Thank you, sir." 

"I like your style, boy. You were on the tenure track, you know that? Sure you want to get off just to play house?"

Keith nodded. "I better quit while I'm ahead."

+++

Keith made it to the station just in time to catch his bus. He wasn't worried about Quinn. He'd have a new problem next week and forget all about him. No, he was thinking about Kendra. Her mom had done a complete 160 on him. What kind of shape would Kendra have to be in for Mrs. Evans to say she "needed" him? And what about Mr. Evans?

He wasn't sure how to react to the old man, knowing the lengths he'd gone through to keep them apart. How would Old Man Evans feel about Keith sleeping under his roof? Whatever he had to say, Keith decided, he would hear it and take it. He would be respectful. Anything to lay eyes on her. If things got too hot, he could crash at his old house. But nothing would ever keep them apart again. Keith slept the rest of the four-hour ride into the mountains.

At the tiny bus station, which was more of a booth with a roofed parking lot, he disembarked and immediately spotted Mrs. Evans. She wasn't hard to spot; she looked the exact same as when he was in high school. Pushing 50 and stacked like a brick house. If he and Mr. Evans could agree on nothing else, it was taste in women. She glided over and hugged him, Keith reddening at the press of her breasts on his stomach. Truth be told, back in high school, Kendra wasn't the only Evans woman he'd fantasized about. 

One day, he'd caught her coming out of their basement gym. She was 42 back then, and looked 30. She wasn't one of those women with a baby face. She was just ... exquisite. The cut of her cheekbones and tilt of her eyes was almost Asian. He'd seen pictures of women in South Africa and Zimbabwe who looked like her, but she wasn't brown like them. Where Kendra was milk chocolate with Cayenne, she was pure dark chocolate. Her skin looked cool to the touch. Except for that day. That day, she was dripping with sweat. That was when Mrs. Evans was into kickboxing, and she had the biceps, firm chest and tight waist of a gladiator, but even her muscles were curvy. 

"Hey Keith, you're by early on a Saturday," she huffed. She was out of breath and drenched, but looked like she loved it, like she'd just had a great time. Or a great fuck. Her short, shiny coils were steaming, she was so wet. The light bounced off the cleavage in her white halter-necked sports bra, and her big, wet muffins beckoned with every breath she took. Keith tried hard not to stare, but one particularly distracting droplet caught his eye. It formed at her brow, slowly swelling until the force of its own weight sent it snaking down her cheek and the side of her neck, across her pronounced clavicle and into the deep, dark crevice between her bosoms. He could've licked that path dry.

"Sorry to interrupt your workout, Mrs. Evans. Kendra and I are headed to the library at State. We're partners on an English paper." That he'd finished Friday; it was just an excuse to hang out. 

"Are you OK, Mrs. Evans? If you don't mind my saying so, you look really hot." By sheer will power alone, Keith managed to keep a straight face. He was dying to drop his eyes to her dark, puffy areolas, just visible through her top, or the wet spot in the crotch of her cotton bike shorts.

"Oh, I'm okay. I elevated the temperature downstairs. Opens the pores, really purifies you. It's my last serious workout for a couple days and I wanted to do it right. I'll go get Kendra."

"Not necessary, Mom. I'm ready." Kendra said from the stairs. She walked down, giving her mother a quick scan. "Bye, Ma. Bring me something from Ankara." She kissed and hugged her mom, wrinkling her nose. 

"Uh, you're really working it out down there."

"Me and your dad. Fit for life, baby! See you when I get back."

The door closed behind them and Kendra elbowed Keith in the ribs. 

"You can stop perving on my mom, now..."

"All I'm going to say is, Mr. Evans is a lucky, lucky man."

Keith and Maria didn't share much conversation on the short drive to the outskirts of town. It was a delicate dance around minefields, with Maria steadfastly avoiding any mention of jail, family, money or prospects. Unsure of how he'd adjusted to life on the outside, she even avoided talking too much pop culture. She talked instead about the town.

"Millville has really improved since you kids have been gone. A lot of boutique businesses that sell online, from art and artisans and the like. Kids you went to school with." She pointed out a few of the new brick and mortar shops as they drove by.

"That's cool," he replied. "Listen Mrs. Evans, how bad is she? I'm really worried."

"She's—it's hard to say. She's tense. She doesn't want to go anywhere in the daytime. And at night she has the worst dreams. Those bastards robbed her of any sense of security. I'm looking for a therapist for her that does webcam consultations."

"Is Mr. Evans okay with me staying at the house?"

"Mr. Evans isn't here." 

They pulled up in the driveway. 

"Here we are. I'll show you to your room and you can drop your things." 

Keith lifted the small backpack onto his arm and followed her in the house, shucking his shoes at the front door the way she did. Past the stairs, she led him to the large guest bedroom at the back of the house. 

"Dinner's at 8, nothing fancy. Wash up if you like beforehand; I put fresh towels on the bed." 

Keith entered the bedroom, a comfortable but generic nest with a stunning view of the Evans' land. Acres of white pine stretched to the sky like a painting. He dropped his backpack on a chair in the corner and turned to leave, surprised to see Maria still standing in the doorway.

"Keith," she sighed hard. "I'm glad you're here. I think you're good for Kendra. But I have to ask, what are your intentions toward her?"

Keith spoke without hesitation. 

"I'm going to marry your daughter." 

The words rang so true inside him, he marveled that he'd never said them out loud. 

Maria pursed her lips, but nodded her head. "Why does that not surprise me," she murmured. "OK. If you want my approval, I need you to do three things. Get a legitimate job—one with a future. Complete or continue your education."

Keith waited for her to finish, but as Mrs. Evans continued staring at him, Keith grew impatient. "Mrs. Evans? The third condition?"

"Make her happy. Just make my baby happy."

She led him upstairs and they stopped before Kendra's room.

"Kenny, I've got a surprise for you," Maria said, gently rapping with the back of her hand.

"Ma, no," came the soft reply. "I don't feel like any surprises right now."

"Not even from me?" Keith's deep voice sidled through the door.

Kendra yanked open the door and jumped into his arms. He held her for a long time, just squeezing her and rocking gently back and forth. Then, shooting Maria a look over Kendra's head, he slowly backed her into the bedroom and shut the door with his foot. 

+++

"Where've you been?" Kendra was so happy, she barely remembered to be mad with Keith. Her arms were still tight around him.

"I didn't have your number," he replied, inhaling lungfuls of the scent of her hair. "I kept coming by your house, but you were gone." 

They squeezed together some minutes longer, both grateful to see the other safe.

Sitting them down on her old bed, he looked around.

"It's the exact same," he said, astonished. He didn't know why it surprised him. His gaze fell on the black and white breast portrait and a smile came to his face. 

"Remember our first photo session? You were a ridiculous tease."

Kendra shook her head at the memory. "I didn't know it was teasing, at the time."

"I know," Keith said. "That's the only thing that saved you when you took off your top." 

He lifted her face and kissed her, slow and deep, sinking into the softness of her lips. Even though he tried not to demand more, he took it when she opened up her depths to him. He sucked on her tongue, swallowing the fear that had plagued him since Sunday. I missed you so much, he said with each kiss of her neck, and pulled her on his lap to get closer. She looked down, suddenly shy.

"What's wrong? Am I moving too fast?"

Kendra looked ashamed. "I haven't showered in a few days."

"I don't care about that," he replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. He paused. "Baby, what happened?"

"They followed me from the store. The big one, Bam? He forced his way in and pushed me down. Kicked me hard, bruised my ribs. Then he jacked his little dick a few times, but he didn't touch me." Her lip curled as she spoke, and her voice quaked with revulsion. "He was holding off, waiting on the other one to arrive. I'd started dinner for us and put your gun in the kitchen, under a towel. He had no idea."

In Keith's stomach was a fireball of hate. He tried to keep it in the cage, away from Kendra. But they'd hurt her. The next time he saw them, Bam and Cody were dead men.

"So I busted his knee out. Cody tried to pin me down. The doctor said I got a light concussion out of the deal, but I broke his nose with the gun. There was a lot of blood."

"Jesus Christ, Kendra. They didn't know who they were fucking with," Keith praised her. "I'm so proud of you, baby. Don't worry, they won't come around anymore."

"How?"

"I handled it."

Kendra stopped and looked at him. "No—"

"Don't worry, it was mostly legally, nobody's hurt. But when I say it's handled, it is." 

Kendra nodded agreement then. "I knew you would take care of me."

"For as long as I live," Keith promised. "I mean it." 

He couldn't stay away from her mouth. Her sweetness called to him and he kissed her again and again. Kendra's bedroom was having an effect on Keith. The fact that he was in there, for once with Maria's consent, had him tuned up. But when his hand sneaked inside her waistband she stiffened again.

"Let me clean up," she mumbled. 

"I've got an idea," he said, leading her to the bathroom across the hall. Once inside, he shut off the lights, lit a few candles Maria had on display, and started running a warm tub of bubbles.

"What are you doing?" Kendra asked.

"We're taking a bath together."

"You're crazy," Kendra laughed. "And I thought you didn't mind my funk."

"So long as I can get funky with you," he bumped into her, bending his knees to kiss her again. While the bathroom filled with steam, Keith undressed Kendra piece by piece, starting with her socks. He moved up her legs to her yoga pants, then the too-big t-shirt that swamped her frame. Each time he removed one of her items he took off the corresponding piece of his own. In this leisurely way, they were soon naked. His half-hard cock reached out to her. 

"Come on," he said, stepping in the water. He sank down, holding her hand and guiding her in. Kendra sank down on top of him, her back to his chest, and let his stiff member rest in the cleft of her cheeks. "Now, isn't that better?"

He lathered up a loofah and began at her fingertips, scrubbing around each nail before swirling over her palms and working his way up her arms to polish her breasts. He spent a long time there, weighing and bouncing and splashing them.

"Your tits are so beautiful, K. I don't know how you're not just distracted, looking at them all day," he mumbled in her ear. He scraped his stubble over her shoulder, making her giggle. 

Under her arms got special attention, as did a few other sensitive places: the soles of her feet, behind her knees. He soaped and massaged all of her major muscles, making little noises of approval as her body responded to him. By the time he'd washed everywhere else, her nipples were taut and begging to be toyed with some more.

Keith tugged on the stiff little nubs, watching the pleasure wash over her face. His shaft, so tight behind her, pulsed as he pumped his hips against her fleshy cheeks. The way she kept shifting, he figured her hot little pot was starting to boil. He prompted her to stand, back to him, while he remained on his knees and stroked big, soapy rings on her ass. Round and round he went, using the hand sprayer to stream warm water over her mounds. Her tattoos stood out starkly on her wet skin, a constant reminder of what she meant to him. This girl...She didn't even know what she did to him. He delved between her cheeks and massaged her little rosebud with a terry washcloth, biting her soft ass when he couldn't take it anymore. 




The Violin Pt. 08



"Keith," she moaned softly.

"Yes, babe," he replied, encouraging her lust. Going agonizingly slowly, he pushed his long finger past the tight ring of her anus, up to the first knuckle. She made a sound like she was fighting herself, but he knew he'd won when she braced her hands on the wall and offered her ass more fully. With a growl, he gave her what she was asking for, burrowing his tongue into her squeaky clean back door. She vibrated her cheeks around his nose as he dug deep inside her, pussy juice all over his chin. 

Then he turned her around and cocked her leg over his shoulder. Kendra ground her crotch in his face as he twirled her on his tongue, pushing her higher and higher. He was licking her like a maelstrom, mushing her slick buns tightly together and pulling them apart, teasing her asshole with his fingers as he did it. Kendra shook in the warm air, humping up into his mouth so hard she almost lost her balance. 

"Let's get out of the tub," she whispered. After a few more licks, Keith relented. 

"OK. Only because it'd be pretty embarrassing if one of us slipped." 

He helped her out of the tub and patted her body down with a big, fluffy towel, and she returned the favor, especially under and behind his heavy balls. She lifted his cock dangerously close to her lips and winked up at him, but didn't put it in her mouth, instead just laying a kiss on its engorged tip.

"Ugh, you like to torture me."

"Yeah, I do," she grinned. 

Keith led her back across the hall to her bedroom naked, ignoring her shocked look. He didn't know if it was because Mr. Evans wasn't home, but he felt completely comfortable. This was why Mrs. Evans had called him; this is what she knew he could do for her daughter.

Kendra laid beside him, snuggling close on the twin bed, and shook her head in amazement when he shifted over her.

"First a bath, now this. What's gotten into you? You used to be scared of my folks. Now you're just going to fuck me with my mother downstairs?"

"That's exactly what I'm going to do," Keith replied. "Then I'm going to make love to you. Maybe after that we'll fuck again. Whatever it takes for you and her and everybody else to get the point." 

"Which is?" 

"I'm not going away from you, ever again." 

He pushed up on his forearms, then slid down her body to gauge her arousal. Her slit was glistening. He blew softly on it and a series of bubbles tumbled out along her lips. It was one of the sexiest things he'd ever seen. Keith groaned and slid up, pushing into her depths with no prelude, forcing a wail through Kendra's gritted teeth. He was glad for all the rugs and fabric she'd hung on the walls. She'd tightened up since Sunday, and they needed all the soundproofing they could get as he stretched her back out. 

"That's it, baby, breathe for me," he coached, pulling her thick thighs as far apart as he could hold them. She gave little jerks, beached between pain and pleasure.

"God, why's your—ugh—cock so big?"

"Better dick delivery system," he grunted. "I get deeper," he hissed, grinding harder, "to open you wider, to dump more cum in your belly." She gave a butterfly spasm around his pole, pulling him further up inside her. Her pupils were dilated and her breath came shallow as she fucked him back. He kept up the dirty talk, sensing how much she liked it.

"That's what you want, right? My cum filling you up? Leaving your chair sticky at dinner? Hot on your breath when you kiss your dad hello?"

Kendra wasn't the only one getting off on his nasty words. He fucked her faster, banging her head on the headboard. Mrs. Evans had to hear it, had to know what the rhythmic thump, thump, thump signified, but Keith was beyond caring. Hell, if she walked in on them she could get it, too. At the thought, his cock ballooned another inch, and Kendra's eyes bugged as it stretched her canal even wider. She gave a harsh shout but Keith couldn't stop. 

"Fuck. Kendra. You're mine," he sobbed. "My pussy. My lady. I'm putting a baby in you. Can you feel it?"

She could. Keith was pushing in her cervix, twisting and squirming the soft tissue of her innermost parts. There was a series of sharp cracks like the earth heaving off its axis, but it was two bed slats snapping. They hit the floor with a bang and continued fucking nearly upside down. Her head lolled back, her eyes rolled in her head and everything went black. And then exploded. A bomb went off inside of her, showering sparks that made her dance on her back like someone being electrocuted. She lost control of her functions; she even thought she peed.

"Oh K, oh baby, oh shit," Keith howled as her climax brought his own down. For one moment he was twisting, itching, blind. Then everything inside him erupted into her. Everything went white. Seconds later, they both passed out.

+++

They had a quiet dinner at 8, nothing fancy: baked chicken, broccoli and cheese, rice pilaf from the box. Kendra slowly made her way to the table and sat gingerly on her tender ass, steadfastly avoiding her mother's eyes. But Keith fixed two big, heaping plates and set one down in front of her with a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Eat, babe," he gently admonished. "Get your strength up."

Maria raised an eyebrow. "It's good to see you out of that room, Kendra. Looks like a visitor was just what the doctor ordered." A small smile, like a private joke, flitted around her lips. "Still, maybe there's not quite enough elbow room in your old space. Why don't you share the guestroom with Keith tonight?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Evans." Cool as she had been, Keith was still surprised. Despite just having spent himself in a cataclysmic orgasm, he'd been already plotting to sneaking into Kendra's room for Round 2 after her mom went to sleep.

"You're welcome, Keith. The bed's queen-sized, a solid oak frame. But it's an antique, so be gentle with it. In fact, you might want to be a little more gentle with everything tonight."

Now it was Keith's turn to be embarrassed.

"I'm sorry about that, Mrs. Evans. We hadn't seen each other in a week, so..."

Maria cut him off with a chuckle. "A week, huh? You kids are going to have some high furniture bills."

"Ma!" Kendra interjected, mortified, and Mrs. Evans just shrugged.

"What? It's the truth. I thought we might watch a movie tonight," Maria said, changing the subject. "But I think we're probably all tired out. Next time." 

She rose, loading her plate in the dishwasher. "Don't keep her up too late."

+++

The next morning, Keith woke to the most delicious sensation: a creamy, delicate, tender feeling that took as it gave. He didn't have to open his eyes to know Kendra was between his legs.

"How did I get so lucky?" he asked the top of her head.

Sharon looked up, grinning comically around the sizable shaft in her mouth.

"Born that way, I guess."

She stroked him a few more times, thumping his tip on her chin with a thoughtful expression. She couldn't get enough of him, even in its current state, half-soft and overworked.

"Mom is being extra vegan kosher about our sleeping arrangements. But she may change up when Dad gets home. Just warning ya. I've seen it a few times over the years."

Keith started to tell her about the conversation he and Maria'd had, but changed his mind. She deserved her own proposal story.

"Hey babe, when we go back to Boston, how would you feel about finding a place together?"

"Maybe. Let's not make any big decisions when your dick's in my mouth."

Much as he hated to admit it, she was right. After a few more minutes, he pulled regretfully from her juicy lips. 

"We could be here all day. Let's get going; I want to drive around town today."

The two got ready, Kendra in a summer dress, Keith in khakis and a polo shirt. They checked out the new shops and old, even rolling by the old high school. No one seemed genuinely surprised they were together. They took a walk through the woods behind the library, holding hands in solemn silence, looking for the emerald chapel. They found it strewn with cigarette butts, trash and used condoms.

Without a word, Keith picked up a discarded grocery sack and started cleaning up the spot. Kendra helped, until the copse was back to looking like the haven it had been for them. As they left, they passed another couple. The two young girl shot Kendra a sheepish look; she was curious about the black woman and her white man, but she didn't want to invite the same level of scrutiny. Kendra smiled at her and gave a tiny wave.

They stopped on their way home to pick up some ice cream, but when they got in the house their sweet treat was forgotten. In the middle of the living room, Niall and Mr. Evans sat on the couches, talking.



The Violin Pt. 09



++++

Keith kissed her good night the whole length of her parents' long private road. The moon was so full. He begged her to climb in the backseat of his Fairlane and she almost gave in, but it was so late already. The closer she got to home, the more nervous the teenager became. At her request, he stopped short of the driveway, so as not to alert anyone with shining headlights. She snuck in the front door, holding her key lightly to avoid jiggling it. The hinges were soundless, the wooden stairs mounted on rubber slats to cushion footfalls. She was home free! And she'd never felt more beautiful or womanly. Her skin tingled where Keith's eruption left a salty constellation, and her private lips were so swollen they squeezed between her thighs with every step. She was going to sleep well that night, but first she was going to jill off reliving every single second. Until she turned on the lamp and saw her parents sitting on her bed. 

Robert Evans looked like he was going to explode. His face was vermillion and his breath came in short snorts, like a bull. Only her mother's firmly clenched grip on his arm kept him from raging into the night, a one-man lynch mob. But it was the look on her mother's face that broke Kendra's heart. Pure, utter, point-blank disappointment. 

"Sit down, young lady," Maria said.

Kendra dropped cross-legged to the floor in front of her parents.

"Mommy, Daddy, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get in this late. I was at the library—"

"The library closed hours ago."

"I know. I lost my phone, so I hung out at the gas station until Keith could come out and give me a ride."

Maria pressed the redial button on the handset by Kendra's bed. Her cellphone buzzed mercilessly in her back pocket. Maria did not hang up until Kendra's voicemail timed out. She stood and walked over, stopping a few inches short. For once, in this position, she towered over the teenager.

"Kendra, you're in trouble as it is," she leaned down so she was face-to-face, "So what were you really—good Lord, child, you smell like a brothel!"

"May as well been in one," her father muttered. "Dammit, Kenny, what the hell were you thinking? A hundred, no, thirty years, hell, now! What do you think that boy's doing? He's bragging to all his friends how he banged the black girl! I hope you used a rubber!" 

Kendra flinched, which seemed to enrage him further. He propelled himself off the bed. 

"Oh, was that indelicate? Did that offend you?" He gripped her jaw roughly, yanking her eyes up to duel with his eerily light ones. Off to the side, even Maria looked alarmed.

"Rob—"

"I'm talking to my daughter," he said with exaggerated enunciation. "His stink is all over you, like a wet dog. Did you suck his dick, too? How else did you debase yourself? Answer me!"

Kendra burst in tears, terrified. "No Daddy, I swear! We didn't even have sex!"

"I sincerely doubt that," Robert's cold tone sliced like a blade. "A liar isn't the worst thing you've proved yourself to be tonight. Don't add to the list."

"Rob, you're going too far," Maria interjected. 

Kendra didn't even hear her mother. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks like they would never stop. What only minutes ago had been the most beautiful moment of her life now seemed treacherous, dirty and degrading. She reeled as he flung her head away from him, catching herself on her forearms before she hit the floor. Her father had never looked at her like this, never talked to her this way. He'd always been her champion. Oh God. What did I do? Daddy doesn't love me anymore. Dry heaves wracked her chest, but when she found her voice, it was clear—if a bit shaky.

"No, Daddy, I promise. I'm still a virgin. You can check if you don't believe me."

Maria gasped, then grabbed Kendra and hugged her, using her body to shield her child from her husband's glare. "Baby, I would never subject you to that. I believe you, honey. It's OK."

Robert couldn't wipe the look of disgust off his face, even as his daughter's sobs broke his heart. He tried to smooth her hair and echo his wife, that it would be all right, but he couldn't bring himself to touch her right then. His half-proffered gesture ended in an impotent wave. 

"Clean up, then come to the kitchen. We have things to discuss."

That was the night he broke her.

Since then, she'd only dated guys like Niall, who were great on paper but didn't fill the emptiness inside, and she poured her heart into the monthly letters. Over the years, they morphed from updates about her life into the most private kind of writing. Half journal entry, half prayer, they held all her hopes for Keith and herself in their separate lives.

She thought her father choosing to deliver them was like the commissary check: an apology or form of penance both to her and Keith. it certainly helped her get past all the horrible things he'd said that night. But since learning of his deception, her love for her father collided with hate, brewing a hell of a storm.

+++++

Kendra glared as her father approached, oblivious to the rage welling up inside her. 

Robert threw his arms around his daughter and hugged tight, her lack of response and the stiffness of her arms not registering.

"I got back as soon as I could," he said. "I don't know why your mom didn't call me immediately, but Niall here told me all about what happened. Goddamn peckerwoods. So you're taking a few days off? That's good. That's the best thing you could do."

Only when she remained impassive did he acknowledge the man next to her.

"Keith. When did you get out?"

"Not a year ago." Keith rubbed Kendra's arm. She was breathing funny, and hadn't taken her eyes off her father. "You OK, babe?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well Keith, this is Kendra's boyfriend Niall," Mr. Evans said. "Keith is a childhood friend," he directed to Niall.

Keith grinned, a fleeting, wolf-like baring of the teeth that his Native ancestors would have called a Pillager Smile. He ignored Niall's offered handshake. 

"That's where you're wrong, Mr. Evans."

"Keith and I are together." 

"What?" Niall yelled.

"Not this mess again," Robert spat.

"Niall and I have been broken up for months," Kendra's voice started out calm, but gradually rose. "And this mess, as you call it, is finally being with the one who loved me all along. No thanks to you." 

Robert jerked, the way a dog does when someone throws a stone at it. 

"Why lie, Dad? Let me think he hated me? This burden of guilt and self-loathing was like a wound I carried for years." She bumped into his chest, surprised. She had been slowly advancing on her father without realizing it, but Keith's big hands tethered her to safety. He gently pulled her back and squeezed her shoulder in support, giving her courage to continue. "What did you do with them?"

"What did I do with what?"

"The letters. And if you say what letters, so help me God."

"So help you God, what? You are still my daughter, and you're standing in my damn house. If you're talking about those lovesick letters to an incarcerated white boy, I did what any self-respecting Black man would do. I threw them out!"

"No, you didn't." Maria's cool frame leaned in the doorway. No one knew how long she'd been there. 

"I saved all your letters, sweetheart. As bad as I felt about not delivering them, I knew it would compound the sin to destroy them." 

Maria crossed the floor to the living room's library wall, all eyes on her. She had wrapped up a videoconference, and her skirt suit showed off her small waist and flared hips. She took a few steps up the sliding ladder and pulled a row of books from a particular shelf. It was a façade, a hinged box cleverly made to look like a series of leather-bound books. 

"Keith, these are yours. I wanted to make them a wedding present, but it's not right to keep them a moment longer." She placed the box in Keith's hands and the whole world fell away.

Keith took the box to the coffee table and sat on one of the white leather settees for the first time in his life. He tracked mud on the rug, but didn't notice. Something very near fear floated in his stomach as he reached for the lid. When he opened it, warm tears filled his eyes. Envelopes. Dozens and dozens of them, missives from the brightest beacon of light he'd had in his life. He ran his hand through the stack. Some were bundled with rubber bands, some were loose. They were all out of order, but Mrs. Evans had just given him seven years of his life back. Among all the white envelopes was one bright red one. He reached for that one first. The conversation in the room sounded far away, as though his ears were stuffed with cotton. He was too busy with his gift, his heart overflowing. 

"Are you serious?" It was Niall, making his case to Kendra. "I know you're mad with me. But an ex-con? Really?" He jerked his thumb at Keith. 

"I'm not ashamed, Niall. Yes, he's an ex-con. But he's a lot more than that, and we've been in love since high school." She sat down next to Keith, noticing his reddening eyes and clumpy lashes. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He pulled her wrist to his lips and kissed it desperately; his nostrils quivered like a stallion. Then suddenly, a mask whisked into place. He sniffed hard twice, and the surface of the lake was still again.

"I'm sorry, Niall," Maria said. "Robert should have told me he'd invited you over; I could've saved you an unnecessary trip."

Ever the charmer, Niall folded her hands in one of his. "No apologies needed, Mrs. Evans. I just wanted to check on Kendra and give you all an update on the case."

Those words pierced Keith's fog. "What's happening?" 

"Maybe you should all sit down," Niall suggested. He remained standing and took the floor.

"My contact at the police station told me the case was a slam-dunk. A couple of witnesses, corroborating evidence at the scene, and injuries consistent with an attempted assault. But the case started falling apart a few days later. The witnesses recanted. Key evidence went missing out of lock-up. And they're floating the theory that there was a third guy present. You see, Kendra," he turned to her and for an instant, she saw a flash of his old, vindictive self, "when they swabbed you down at the hospital to collect physical evidence, they found semen inside you that didn't match the DNA of either assailant. It did match a newly released convict with ties to an organized Neo-Nazi gang. They think, for whatever reason, you're protecting someone else who was involved. None of it made any sense to me at the time. So you're her high school boyfriend?"

"Lot more than that." Keith's voice was flat, dismissive. "But you already knew that." Keith put an arm around her and hugged her. She was holding him down even when he didn't even know about it! 

Kendra turned back to Niall, going from tender to terse. "You saw that Keith had spent the night when you broke into my house, Niall. My attackers waited until you left. I thought it was you again when I opened the door to them."

"If he's so great, why didn't he come forth and help you? I was there. I comforted you. I made your excuses at work and drove you up here."

"I appreciate it, Niall."

"Like hell you do! Or it'd be me, not this smug white boy, on that couch next to you." 

"It's over between us, long before Keith and I reunited," Kendra reminded him.

"We were over before we even started, you're goddamn right about that one."

"Don't talk to her like that," Keith warned, standing up. He was two inches taller and a lot more ripped, facts that weren't wasted on the lawyer.

Mrs. Evans bristled. "All right, Niall. We thank you for all the information and your concern. But as you can see, we've got a lot of family business to discuss." She walked over to the door and unlocked it. 

"Niall, no." It was the first time Robert had spoken in ten minutes. "She doesn't know what she's doing. She's traumatized and confused." 

"I've never been clearer in life. Daddy, I love him. And if you decide you can no longer love me because of that, that's on you."

Maria closed the door behind Niall.

"We tried to keep them apart, honey, and we were wrong. Look at how they keep finding each other! He has something she needs. If they make it, great. If they try and fail, that's life. But it's her life. Okay?" Her voice faded softer and she stood on tiptoe to tap his jaw.

Robert's beautiful wife, with her brilliant mind and passionate heart, had gone behind his back and mortally wounded his pride. "I thought we were a team," he said, bewildered.

"No, YOU are the team," she said. "You make decisions and I disagree and you never listen to me. Look at her. She's happy. For once, will you let that be good enough?" 

"No! No, no, no! Baby, Kendra was supposed to be more than this! She was our contribution, the next generation of leaders to set things right. We didn't spend all that time and money and careful consideration and SACRIFICE to hand her gift-wrapped to the enemy. I won't have it. He's a fucking Nazi, for God's sake!" 

"Mr. Evans, may I speak with you in private? I think we need to have a man-to-man."

"Huh, do you qualify?"

"Your daughter thinks so."

++++

The two men went out the back door and started walking. Outside in the evening air, Keith wasn't quite sure how to say what he had to say.

"I love Kendra, Mr. Evans."

"Of course you do. She's beautiful, smart, creative. What's not to love?"

Keith reconsidered his approach.

"I understand why you want us apart."

Robert sucked his teeth. "You know very little, and understand even less."

Robert stomped past Keith, shoulder-checking the younger man hard. He was spoiling for a fight. What he didn't count on was that Keith was, too.

"Hey man, why don't you give us a chance? I know it's not ideal, but we've been loving each other all these years! She was the first thought on my mind when I got released. I went looking for her as soon as I got out."

"You goddamned peckerwood, you've been trying to get your hands on my daughter since the day you met! But why? Why sully Kendra with your filthy, thieving hands? I know all about you, boy. You weren't in jail three months before you joined up with the Aryans."

Robert took a swing at Keith, but Keith was faster and blocked it. He grabbed that fist and twisted it behind Robert's back and the men tussled like rams in the grass.

"Yes, I did," Keith hissed. "I was young and alone and scared shitless, and Kendra had broke my heart. I was angry and stupid."

"Yes you were," Robert heaved, breaking Keith's hold. He punched him in the solar plexus, briefly winding Keith, and followed up with an uppercut to his ribs. "How do I know you've changed?"

Keith danced back a bit, catching his breath. 

"You know, you fight well. Boxing?"

"Golden gloves, 1982 and '83."

"Yeah, I can see that. It's pretty. That's not how I fight."

He advanced on the older man, doling out a dizzying combination of body blows and jabs that overwhelmed and confused Robert. The hits came so fast, but Keith was pulling his punches, not using full strength. Robert began to understand that, if he'd wanted to, Keith could take him apart. Keith ended with a right cross that glanced off Robert's chin, hard enough to snap his head back. Bu when he looked at Keith, Keith's eyes shined with unshed tears.

"I know you invested a lot into her. More than I can even imagine. I know because of what an amazing person she is. Look, I don't know why she loves me. But when an amazing woman loves you, you'd be a fool not to take it. I'm sure you felt the same way with Mrs. Evans."

"Kendra is nothing like her mother," Robert huffed.

"Then I guess I'm the lucky man," Keith returned.

Robert stopped dead. "Look, cut the bullshit," he cried out. "What did Maria mean back there about a wedding gift?" 

"Yesterday, Mrs. Evans asked me about my intentions toward Kendra. I'm going to ask her to marry me."

Robert started to object, but Keith talked over him. 

"I know, I know if I were you, I wouldn't want me marrying her, either. In my current state, I'm a liability. I've got a record, no job. But I will ALWAYS take care of Kendra. I will always provide for her, protect her. With my life. I already promised Mrs. Evans I would complete my education and get a future. I've got a couple hundred thousand socked away, enough to take care of us while I go to school. Let me..." for a strangling second, he ran out of words. "Let me love her. Please, sir."

Mr. Evans groaned and threw up his hands. "Keith, it's more than that. It's more than love or your criminal record. It's who you were born. Don't you get it? When Kendra gets to the level she is headed, you won't be able to walk in those circles. It is in that rarified air up there that your mere existence will hurt her! Hold her back. Stunt her potential. It will give people already prone to dismiss her one more weapon against her. When she's hurt it may be the very thing she uses to tear you up. And you still have to be there for her. Now, white boy, are you ready for that?" 

He was one inch from Keith's face, so close a fine mist of spittle moistened the air.

Keith didn't budge or turn aside, locked in a stare down with Robert Evans. 

"Do I have your permission or not? Sir."

Robert shook his head. "No. But I don't suppose that will stop you."

"No sir, it won't." 

They walked back to the house in silence that, if not exactly friendly, was a lot less tense.

"When are you going to do it?" Robert finally asked.

"I've got a plan."

+++



The Violin Pt. 10



Keith couldn't sleep. For once, not even Kendra's sexy body could distract him. She'd tried, giddy with the victory over her dad. She had boldly led the way to the guest bedroom, Keith following behind with the box of letters. He winced at her whoop as he closed the door.

"Did you see me, baby? I beat him. Him and Niall. It was like, everything I've been bottling up all these years came rushing out! And Mom, she was so bad-ass, standing up for us the way she did! I'm so proud of her!" Kendra yanked her dress over her head and stood there in her underwear and shoes. 

"I want you to make love to me like you said. Every freaky thing you promised. Make me call you Daddy, make me scream." She wrapped her arms around his neck and gently pulled him down. Keith kissed her, but his heart wasn't in it. After a few minutes she couldn't ignore his muted passion.

"What's wrong, baby?"

He sighed. "It's just been a long day. Let's go to bed." 

Under the light cotton sheet, they spooned. Still hopeful, she wiggled against him. The flesh was willing, but his spirit was weak. Even as his cock thickened against her softly muscled behind, his stomach dropped. He didn't deserve her sweet sweat, that soft snarl of her upper lip as she slid over the edge. He pulled her tight, nosing the coarse curls at the nape of her neck. 

"I've got a lot to sort out, K, but I'll get it together. I promise."

He must really be tired, she mused. "Okay. Raincheck, though."

Keith held one long arm akimbo over his head and stared at the pale peach ceiling, Mr. Evans' words running through his mind like a broken loop. No matter how he tried to spin it, Robert was right. If he continued to be the man he was, he would destroy Kendra's future. Yet he wasn't sure how to change. If Kendra had wanted a suit and tie, she could've had her pick of Niall and guys like him. Still, she chose him. Why?

The moon grew full and fat while he tossed. Eventually, he conceded the battle and carefully folded the sheet back. Kendra's light snores didn't hitch as he rose. The keys to the Mrs. Evans's Benz were on the hook by the door. Keith slipped into the night.

He just drove aimlessly at first, following the moonlight past dark houses and down empty roads. Slowly the path became familiar, until he pulled into the dirt driveway of a small, falling down house with a sagging shed attached. He almost didn't recognize the place. He hadn't been back since the night it all went wrong.

The deck was no longer peeling. In the seven years he'd been gone the porch's flaking green paint had given up the ghost, until now it was just weather-beaten gray wood. The key, though, was still shockingly brassy, hidden between the loose front bricks. Keith used the flashlight he'd found in the Benz glovebox to clear away the cobwebs and stepped through the door. 

He may as well have stepped back in time. Nothing had changed. Even the empties his dad drained and tossed were still scattered around the old arm chair, like abandoned pets waiting on their master's return. His father's effects were scant and mean: an Aaron's cap with the plastic tab, almost black with grease; a 20-pound ring of keys, their locks and cars long gone. 

Hot as it was outside, the air in the house was unnaturally cold. Goosebumps raised on his arms, but Keith tried to shake it off. He stepped gingerly through the house, reliving childhood moments. The hole in the kitchen wall, a relic from the time he'd dodged a blow and his father broke his hand. The pencil marks on the doorframe his mom used to measure his growth; those stopped at his waist. His father never looked at him the same after she left. It was like the wound of her leaving festered inside their house until it infected everything. 

Keith paused, thumbing over memories of his mother, nettled by his inability to recall her face. The image was like a faded Polaroid: a wisp of fair hair, the way the left corner of her lips quirked up when she smiled. It all wouldn't come together into a cohesive picture, and he knew that if he passed her now, they probably wouldn't even recognize each other. He touched the faded marks, that knowledge like a stone inside, cold and final. The short and faded graphite marks, five of them, climbed up the door frame. They were decisive and sure, like her, the next-to-last peaked like a small mountain. And he remembered. 

It was the morning of his sixth birthday, and she called him over for their familiar ritual. 

"You're getting so big, Old Man," she said. "One day I'mma look up and you'll be an old man for real."

"I'mma be older than you, Mama?"

"Not yet. You stay my sweet boy just a little while longer." When she went to mark his height, he bumped up on his tiptoes, making the mark go crooked but his mother was so tickled she let it stand. Keith didn't remember what he got that year, but he remembered her nickname for him, Old Man, on account of the eyes she said belonged to an old soul, and the way she laughed and laughed.

Keith tested the door to his old bedroom, and it creaked open unsteadily. Though everything was exactly as he remembered, it all felt strangely alien, like someone else's past. He forgot about the sharp angle of the corrugated roof, ducking his head just in time to avoid banging it on the ceiling, and tripped over the pallet of dry-rotted cushions on the floor. The crate of blue jeans still sat on the broken folding chair, one pair slung over the back. Keith picked them up and inhaled and could almost smell Kendra's scent on them still. 

Under the chair, another crate was filled with CDs, books and personal keepsakes. He sat on the old cushions crosslegged, surprised at the feeling that welled up inside: nostalgia. He would never choose to go back to the bad old days, but those bad old days were his bad old days. Where the Red Fern Grows, his favorite childhood book, had made him long for a secret dog that would be his best friend. The Autobiography of Malcolm X. For a brief while, he had thought that he could be a transformative figure too, to kids like himself who grew up getting drilled down, beaten flat and filled with hate. They were America's trash, only useful when Big Brother needed cannon fodder for battles they had no stake in. They could be more than that. He could be more than that. So he'd thought. He swiped hard at his burning eyes and got up off the floor.

"What the fuck, man?" he scolded himself gruffly. "You fall in love and next thing you know, you're a weeping fucking willow." 

He had one more room to visit in the house.

He touched the doorknob to his father's bedroom and a strong breeze swept through the house, violently ruffling the yellowed papers tacked to the wall.

"You old bastard, I did nothin' you didn't deserve!" Keith surprised himself by shouting.

He kicked the door open and reeled. He felt the weight of the aluminum bat in his hands, the blinding despair that nothing good would ever last, the rage that the sleeping man had taken everything, everything from him. He saw himself approach the bed. This time, he stopped short. It had been stripped, the sheet and pillows taken as evidence. But he could still feel his father's grip as the reclining man had tried to stay the blows and the ring of the bat when they told. 

"I'm sorry, Pa. I'm so sorry," Keith sobbed. Hearing the words aloud made him realize he'd never said them. 

He stayed past sunrise talking to a man he no longer hated, the whispered conversation dangerously close to a prayer. Finally he pushed himself up. He felt ... clear, and clean in a way he hadn't felt in years. A knock sounded on the door. He opened it and was swept up in a pair of loving arms.

"Oh my God, I thought it might be you over here!" Lacey's drawl was the exact same, even if her face showed the wear of time. She'd put on a few pounds and dark circles under her eyes, but otherwise she was the same. "Where'd you get these fancy wheels from?"

"My girl. Remember Kendra?"

"That black girl from your high school? Well damn, she works quick." Lacey squeezed his biceps admiringly, then looked up at him with a familiar glint in her eyes. "You should've come by to see me first."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" he challenged her with a grin, falling comfortably into their old pattern of flirting. Despite their sexual history, Keith had genuine platonic feelings for Lacey, something like an aunt who gave blowjobs. She'd even written him a few times a year when he was imprisoned, and he sent her monthly payments out of thanks for her loyalty.

"So I coulda set you straight. Hell, I'd give you a tune-up for old time's sake right now, if I wasn't running late for work." 

"Work? Don't I take good enough care of you?" 

Lacey rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. The checks still come in handy and I appreciate it. Mind you, I been paying your property taxes and house repairs out of 'em. But I need the health insurance for me and my kid. Wanna meet her?"

Keith walked her to the red Nissan parked in his driveway and leaned down to see a curly haired imp of a girl with astonishing blue eyes. His breath caught in his chest.

"How old is she?"

Lacey's laugh reached the treetops. "No worries, she's only five. Hey Jordan, meet your Uncle Keith."

They caught up for a few more minutes before Lacey had to go. But she had one more thing to say. 

"Look hon, I'll never question how you make your money, because you've been good to me. But the next couple years are gonna be hard and you've got to keep your hands clean. You can do it. You've already made it through the worst, right?" Her smile was a bit sad. She tapped his cheek tenderly; she'd sat in the driveway for a minute before knocking on the door. "I'm here for you, whatever you need. And I mean whatever." 

Lacey grabbed Keith into a long, hard hug, turning her head to hide a sudden case of sniffles, and pulled out, Keith following behind to get the Evanses their car back. 

+++

"The package is at 37654 White Pine Road," a disembodied voice said on the other line. 

Cody hung up the phone, slicking his hair back with one hand. 

"Who was that?" Bam asked, flexing his stiff knee from the couch.

"That spade lawyer who's been busting my nuts with that criminal suit the past two months. All of a sudden, he wants to play nice and come off some information."

"Jeez, wonder what changed his mind?"

"Who knows? Those people got no integrity, man." Cody poured himself a tumbler of scotch. 

Bam eyed his partner, a little nervous. "What about the money? Kaine paid forty large to let the bitch alone and we took it."

"Fuck the money, man!" Cody crashed his glass to the floor. "My rep is garbage in the streets. This motherfucker has got to pay. Forty grand—my dick is worth more than forty grand!"

"Small as it is," Bam chuckled.

"What did you say, asshole?" 

Bam looked up to see the barrel of Cody's gun and threw his hands in the air.

"I was just joking, you dick! When're we going?"

+++++++

Kendra awoke to a cool bed. Keith must've gotten up hours before. She wasn't concerned. He'd been so moody last night, maybe he needed some time alone. Actually, she did. Kendra kicked off the duvet and padded to the guest bathroom, unbothered by the sliding glass doors that would reveal her full glory to any passerby outside. There were never any passersby; the window framed the first dozen rows of her family's acreage. She stretched, giving her invisible audience an enviable view, then tucked her tresses under an oversized shower cap and turned the stall shower on full blast. 

As important as the last few days had turned out to be, she needed to get back to her life, her work, her apartment. She couldn't take another day wandering around Millville, aimlessly tracing streets that didn't hold that many happy memories to begin with. And she wanted to talk to the witnesses in her case. Niall was a solid lawyer, but now that she'd rejected him she was sure his fervor about her case would cool. She needed to see them face to face, find out if they'd been threatened or bribed into recanting. The thought awakened her slumbering ambition. Kendra really loved her job, and she was good at it. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't wait to get back to Boston.

Her ambition wasn't all that stirred within her. She felt unfulfilled after last night. Keith was acting strange, she mused, soaping up her supple breasts. Obviously he wanted her—if her violin couldn't lie, his instrument was even easier to read. Her nipples came alive under her hands, itching slightly until she tugged on them. How she'd longed to feel Keith's rough fingertips twisting them with just the right pressure. A low rumble of pleasure tickled her throat and without being fully conscious of it, she bounced her titties up and down like she was teasing his cock between them. The round globes smacked together obscenely, sending droplets of water flying in all directions. It gave her a naughty idea. Kendra squeezed a thick, creamy line of body wash across the tops of her breasts and arched her back, aiming her proud mammaries at the spray and letting the water pressure beat it into bubbles. Effectively lubed, she hoisted each tit apart like a trophy, letting them slip through her clutches over and over again, creating a delicious frisson. She worked them vigorously, slapping them together and stretching them wide. The playful massage was getting to her; she didn't have to touch herself to know she was wet. She flexed her inner thighs rhythmically, holding off the first slick touch of her hand as long as she could. She leaned her torso against the glass of the stall, flattening her globes against it, and enjoyed the tiny shiver that rippled through her. Her asscheeks trembled a bit, thrust out behind her, and she wished Keith was there to stretch her walls the way only he could. 

Eyes squeezed shut, she imagined it was his finger teasing her hot aperture, just breaking the seal enough that she leaked. Kendra tested her firm nubbin, just a grazing at first and then concentrating with firmer pokes, before returning to her wanting hole. Two fingers, then, spread and rubbing against each other and the tight walls clenching them. Her other hand alternated between breasts, plucking and tweaking each chocolate tip. She needed more than she could give herself, but the usual accoutrements she'd turn to in this situation were at her apartment in the city, not here at her parents' house. She settled, then, for the detachable shower head, leaning back on the tile and cocking up her leg, to aim it just right. She was so engrossed in her ministrations, she didn't notice that she had company.

Keith leaned against the doorframe, taking in her private moment. She threw her head back and he watched a line of light cascade from her chin, down the column of her neck, over her impudent nipples and down her belly. His balls ached to join her, but he had vowed not to touch her until he'd at least gotten on the path to a better destiny. With a grunt he slung himself back around the corner and to the downstairs office. The sooner he got started, the better. 

Keith was decent as muscle, but where he really excelled was in planning the movements, timing and locations of the drops. Under him, the organization had seen less busts and less attention, a fact some of the players who were in it for the fame didn't care for. But he had won the respect of a lot of middle men, guys who worked the docks, borders, intake and exporters. Keith didn't see why he couldn't leverage those same skills for a legitimate career in logistics; product was product, after all. He began researching the most respected programs, with the goal to enroll ASAP.

Kendra jumped when she heard the door close and hurriedly finished up in the shower. 

"Babe, are you okay? I woke up and you were gone." Kendra came to join him behind the sizeable oak desk, wearing his oversized button up shirt and not much else. She kissed his forehead and Keith returned to the monitor before she drew him into a deeper exchange. He'd only just put the sight of her in the shower out of his mind. She was making his vow mighty hard.

"I couldn't sleep so I went out for a drive. I want to discuss a few things with you."

"That's great, because I need to talk to you too." 

Five minutes later...

"Hell no, Kendra! It's not safe for you to go back to Boston yet."

"I've made up my mind, Keith. Besides, you said you'd taken care of those guys." Her eyes narrowed. "You did, didn't you?"

"Of course—"

"Then it's settled. We're going home tonight."

"No, babe. Give me a few more days to make sure it's all clear first."

"But I thought you said—"

"I know what I said. But I need to make sure you're safe. I'll just check around."

Kendra shook her head. "I don't like the sound of that, Keith. What if you need me and I'm all the way up here?"

She really meant, what if I need you. The past week without him had been hell. She'd spun in circles, wondering if it had all been her imagination, if he had exaggerated what he felt for her. If he'd just used her for a revenge fuck after all. She berated herself as an idiot to think that, after close to a decade in prison, she even remotely knew this man, let alone enough to open herself to him so completely. On every level. Now that she had him again, she was loathe to let him go. Keith leaned his forehead against hers and kissed her round nose.

"What happened to you was my fault, because I was sloppy. I'd lose it if anything else went down. I have to protect you. Please. I promise I'll be back in a few days to take you home."

Kendra acquiesced, using his proximity to snatch a few moist pecks of the lip. She was still revved up, he could see it in her eyes. She shouldn't have to suffer, he rationalized to himself.

"I'm curious, counsel," he said, smoothly pushing the monitor and books out of the way on the desk. "Are you wearing panties?"

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not."

He hoisted her up on the cleared space in front of him and sat back on the banker's chair, sliding his fingertips along the silky-smooth skin of her inner thigh. "I'll have to investigate for myself."

Kendra scooched to the edge and opened her legs in response and breathed a sigh of thanks, glad she'd closed the door behind her. Keith's nibbles along her sensitive thighs had her hot and wet again in no time. Kaleidoscope colors swirled behind her closed eyes as he sucked and prodded, laving her tender bud like a precious morsel. This was different from their times before; he was worshiping her sex, purely for her pleasure. She ached in sweet agony, begging incoherently for him to fuck her, and he curled two long, thick fingers against her g-spot until she arched off the table and squirted in his mouth. His balls weighed ten pounds each, watching her quiver and purr. Piercing her now would be like sinking into heaven. Instead, he bent his head again and began to softly clean her with his tongue.

+++++++

An unfamiliar feeling wracked Niall's gut. He'd been holding the same highball glass so long the ice cubes were melting, but the thirty-year-old scotch was more security blanket than beverage at this point.

"Just an occupational hazard," he muttered to himself. But he couldn't concentrate and he couldn't unwind. As pissed off as Kendra made him, he couldn't deny the guilt eating at him for delivering her and the Evanses into the hands of those psychopaths. He'd rationalized it at the time: better he give up the information and collect the bounty than some dirty cop. Truth was, she'd made him feel insignificant and inadequate. She'd taken his help because she needed it, but she'd never looked at him the way she had that convict, that thug. She'd never let him cum inside her or hit it raw. He'd never even thought to ask, out of respect or her. He'd thought she wasn't that type of girl; turns out, she just wasn't that type for him.




The Violin Pt. 10



But now, he worried. With a curse, he slopped down the cut glass tumbler and searched his iPhone for the number to Millville PD. 

+++++++

Cody leaned on the car horn. The fat fuck was taking too long in the gas station bathroom. Finally, Bam emerged.

"The point of leaving after dark isn't to get there tomorrow morning, ya idiot," Cody snapped. He was nervous. He'd never put in work before; his power within the organization came from family connections. Bam shrugged. 

"I had to use it," he explained. 

They were right outside of Boston and Cody, a creature of habit, insisted they stop at an old-fashioned '50s-style place he frequented. He said it was his good luck charm. Bam liked it too, as he'd discovered a glory hole there once and took pains to advertise his singleness on every subsequent trip, though he'd never repeated the luck of that first visit. The men continued lightly arguing as they divvied up the snowballs, Nutter Butters and bear claws they'd purchased inside. They never even saw Keith approaching from the side alley. Two quick shots apiece from his near-silent weapon and it was done.



The Violin Pt. 11



Mrs. Evans was watching the news when Kendra joined her on the couch. The mother patted her daughter's hair.

"How're you doing, sweetheart?"

"Okay. I'm just bored. I want to get back to work."

The older woman smiled. "I know I said it before, but I'm so proud of you. The woman you've become, from excelling at the firm to sticking to your guns...You reminded me how to be strong."

Kendra hugged her. "Thank you, mom. How's dad?"

Mrs. Evans shook her head with a resigned sigh. "Still not talking to me. He leaves for work before I get up, and he's slept in the basement the past week. He's hurt. And a jackass. Let's change the subject," she brightened. "Have you heard from Keith?"

Kendra nodded. "Really briefly. He just called to let me know when he made it in town, and then a few nights ago. He's been different since the night him and dad talked."

"Different how?"

Kendra blushed. She didn't want to say she and Keith hadn't fully made love since that night. From the look her mother gave, chances were she already knew. "Distracted. No, I take that back. He's been crazy focused, just not on me. I don't know. Maybe it's nothing. I just want to get back in my groove. That's where my head is." 

"I'm sure. Hey Kenny, I got a call from the police department today. They'll be sending a patrol car around a few nights a week to watch the house, said it's related to your case."

Kendra sat up straight. "Do they think there could be some retaliation?"

"Sure sounds that way," Maria replied. "What I want to know is how they even knew you were home."

Two familiar mug shots flashed on the TV screen, catching Kendra's attention, and she turned to focus on the broadcast. "Mom? I think it might be a moot point now."

++++++++++

Keith spent the next week preparing a place fit for Kendra. He rented a beautiful historic 3-bedroom in Beacon Hill and paid rent upfront for a year to offset his lack of credit. He had no possessions worth holding onto, so he didn't bother going back to clear out his rented room. He just called Raul and told him to take whatever he wanted. Movers brought Kendra's possessions over, which he lovingly unpacked. He contacted Millville High and enrolled in the two online courses needed to complete his high school diploma and simultaneously enrolled in community college. At night, he settled into a huge new bed, the only furniture in the house that didn't come from Kendra's place, and sifted through her box of letters. 

He tried, at first, to make himself wait, to put them in chronological order so that he could go through them methodically, but found he preferred to randomly select them to read. It gave him a strange kind of peace to fall asleep surrounded with piles of her letters each night. The letters weren't always rosy. Sometimes, Kendra had written him in anger, demanding to know why he'd taken such drastic measures, or why he never wrote back to her. She blamed him, it was clear, for separating them. Sometimes she wrote about the guys she was dating. She never gave much detail, but he couldn't help the uptick in his body temperature at these missives. A sense of loneliness was ever-present, something he could relate to because he'd felt it himself. Keith often cried, or paused in his reading to press a letter to his lips. He wondered how different he'd have been if he'd had this lifeline to her love while incarcerated. Instead he'd become hard, calculating, which was how he'd survived. But now, he craved to reopen those parts of himself he'd walled off. He wanted to weave the disjointed strands of his life into something that made sense, a stronger, smarter version of himself that would make everything he'd been through worth it. Make him someone worthy to stand beside her. 

Out on the streets, all looked clear. Cody and Bam's murder got a few mentions on the news, but police were busy with a dozen suspects. Any number of people wanted those rats dead. Finally he felt safe to call Kendra about coming back to the city.

"Will you move in with me? You said not to ask while we were in bed. Well, you're not in bed anymore." Keith tried to keep the tension out of his voice. He realized his 'surprise' was a bit stalkerish, especially if she said no.

"What about my lease? It's not up for four months."

"I can take care of that," he replied. "I don't want to go another day without you. Just say yes." 

At the need in his voice, Kendra's breath hitched—she'd missed him, too. And not just the mind-blowing sex; she'd missed his smart mouth, and the sense of security his presence provided. He was the towering shadow she could always rely on. 

"Yes." 

Keith whooped in joy and gave her the new address. "I'll take care of everything," he promised. 

++++

Kendra walked back into the law offices of Kent, Stavros and Burn, breathing deeply. A short, swarthy, distinguished older man waited by her office.

"It's good to have you back," Michael Stavros clapped her on the back. "It hasn't been the same without you." 

Kendra smiled at her mentor. "Four weeks and you're falling apart?" she joked. "So what's the scoop since I've been gone?" 

Michael's eyes twinkled as he filled her in on the gossip on their clients and the office, but Kendra was distracted by Niall passing by. He stiffened visibly and though she knew he'd heard her voice, sped up as he walked past her open door. Michael, who missed very little, drew his eyebrows together.

"Having trouble with your hero?"

"Who called him that?"

"He did! Over and over. To hear him tell it, he burst into your apartment and took the assailants down himself."

Kendra rolled her eyes. "Not quite. But he did drive me home to my folks."

"So you're back together?"

"Who said we were ever together to begin with?"

Michael just shook his head. "Niall is a brilliant litigator, but he's not the most discreet. Anyway, it's none of my business. Now," he looked around, "I know you've got a lot to catch up on. Take your time—no one's going to throw you in the deep end right away. They'll have to go through me." 

Kendra smirked. "Only cause you want first dibs."

"But of course!" He patted her on the shoulder and exited.

Kendra's paralegal brought in stacks of briefs and files that other colleagues had taken on, and she didn't look up from her desk until she heard a knock on her door at 7 p.m.

"It's good to see you back," Niall said. He'd put on some pounds and looked a little disheveled, like he hadn't been sleeping well, but he was still a handsome enough man. "You wrapping up? I'll wait."

"Thanks. I didn't realize it had gotten this late! I've got to get home." Kendra finished scribbling some end-of-day notes and prepared to walk out with Niall. 

"Makes sense; it's safe now. I know you heard about those guys getting offed."

"I did. I'd planned on trying to get the witnesses back on record."

"Guess your boyfriend had a more permanent solution in mind."

Kendra's neck snapped back. "What you're implying is baseless and tasteless, and borders on slander."

"Hey girl, don't get mad at me," Niall retorted. "You know what kind of guy he is." He could barely suppress a grin; he liked getting her riled up. 

Kendra just stared at him for a moment, the wheels turning in her head. "I'm really starting to see what kind of guy you are," she replied. "You go on without me. I've got one more thing to look at before I leave."

She arrived just by cab just before dusk. When she got to the Victorian-looking building, Kendra had to double-check the address. The house was painted a delicate yellow with pops of green, traditional but decidedly unstuffy. In the driveway was an older Saab, the kind of car mid-career family men drove on weekends to go camping with their kids. There was even a front porch with a swing. She climbed the few steps up, noting the almost undetectable motion detectors and sensor alarms, and knocked. The door swung open.

Keith leaned against her couch in a sharp gray suit, sporting a shaggy, expensive haircut. He looked like sex and money. She gave a low whistle as they drank each other in. 

"When did you do all this?" She made a gesture that indicated the house, his hair and everything.

"I had a couple interviews today. I didn't want to tell you unless I got an offer," he said, coming in for a closed-mouth but lingering kiss. 

God, his lips, Kendra groaned internally. They were so soft, yet strong, and he tasted like fresh mint. He was suave but retained a little danger in his suit; it gave her all kinds of ideas. But first she wanted to see the rest of the house. She pushed away and had to fight him a bit to separate, which made her smile. He'd missed her too.

"Okay, okay. Why do you have to be so delicious?" He stole a last kiss. "You like?" 

She took a small, languid walk around the living room—and him. The suit she wore skimmed her shapely curves. Damn, my girl's a boss, Keith admired. 

"Oh yeah," she smiled. Keith had chosen well. Natural light spilled in through the tall, arched windows, dressed in billowy sheers. Her furniture fit well here, better than it had at her old place.

He grinned, flashing freshly whitened teeth. 

"Jeez, babe, it's like you went to Handsome Boy Modeling School while I was gone," she exclaimed. "Here I am missing the simple, rugged guy that works with his hands."

Keith stepped close. "We can get hands-on," he murmured, relishing the warmth of her body and the way the tiny pulse in her neck beat faster. She gave a teasing smile.

"Show me around first." 

Keith gave her the tour, trying to stop imagining ways to christen each room. 

"That's the study, and this is our bedroom. That spare room with the California walk-in closets is your dressing room," he added, hoping she'd be pleased. The built-in was like something out of a dream: every piece had a place, even her jewelry and accessories. The main room had a pair of deep velvet sofas, a small table and, off to the side, a bar and tea cart. Book shelves and a wall-mounted flat screen completed the retreat. He couldn't have cared less when the realtor lady showed it, but she'd promised that the lady in his life would love it. Kendra stretched and stooped, marveling at the convenience and lay out.

"Baby, it's wonderful!" she gasped. "I am never gonna get anywhere on time, I'll have too much fun getting ready!"

Keith opened his mouth to respond, but his belly beat him to it with a loud grumble. He laughed. "Hey beautiful, what say you slip into something more comfortable and we go out to dinner?"

Her nose wrinkled in mischief. "What say you slip into something more comfortable and we order delivery?"

"Hell yes." Keith was unknotting his tie before she finished her sentence. He'd had big plans for the evening, but so long as they ended on the right note he was ecstatic.

Kendra didn't waste any time. She shed her blazer and wriggled the blouse over her head, giving Keith a private moment with her beautifully hung breasts. Her silky bra was an exquisite match to her spiced chocolate skin. He hadn't touched her in weeks, and she needed him to take her there. She'd missed the things his long, lean body could do, and that day in her father's study had made her hunger worse, not better. She hated how weak she was for him, how badly she needed him to split her open and pull her feelings out in the open. She raised her chin for a kiss and when he bent to her, she tugged hard on his golden brown hair. 

"Ow!" He grinned into her lips and smacked her backside. "What did I do?"

"More like what haven't you been doing."

"I'm sorry, K. Let me make it up to you." Keith pushed her skirt down her sculpted legs and helped her step out of her heels. He unsnapped her bra, but when Kendra hooked her thumbs in her silky, spiced chocolate colored panties, he stilled her hands. 

"Uh-uh, leave them on for a bit. I need to concentrate for a second."

"Evil," she muttered, even as her tummy fluttered. 

"I'll be peeling them off you soon enough." He pulled her into his arms. "Do you trust me, baby?"

Kendra nodded. "Of course," she replied. 

"Good, I want to ask you something." He was suddenly serious. "I love you, K, and you've never said it back, but you love me, too. I feel it every time we touch."

His tone spooked Kendra. He was right, she hadn't said it, and she resorted to a tactic that often worked with Niall: distraction. Kendra let him continue uninterrupted, wordlessly bending her knees until she was eye level with his heavy cock. 

"Wait," Keith said, but she was already leaning toward it, engulfing him. With a groan, he walked deeper into her mouth, until her back pushed against the seat of the settee and his crown lodged in the top of her throat. Her saliva coursed around it as she continually swallowed. 

"I can't believe how good you feel," Keith moaned. He'd missed her welcoming lips, but not enough to skip what he needed to say. "I know you heard your mom, when she said the letters were meant to be a wedding present. But you never asked me about it." 

Kendra sucked him harder, which he took as encouragement even though it made him dizzy. 

"You're a smart girl, probably the smartest person I know. You already know what I'm about to say." Keith waited, and when Kendra didn't answer he pulled out past her tonsils with an obscene squelch. She tried to grip him and he grabbed her hand.

"Stop, I'm trying to talk to you."

"I know," she said slowly. "I'm trying to stop you."

Keith didn't flinch. He pulled her up onto his lap, face-to-face. Her legs parted, making way for his engorged nature, but he wouldn't be deterred from his true goal. "Be my wife, Kendra. Let's put down roots together and grow into the people we were meant to be. I'm the opposite of what you need right now, but I'm working to change that. I'm working to change a lot of things. I can take care of you."

Their bodies locked in on each other and Kendra began the slide into oblivion. She easily took the first half, but those last five inches were a beautiful battle her body would relive in shivers over and over the whole day after. His hands were on her rump in a sensual massage that alternately widened and narrowed her opening, and she snaked her waist in time with his movements. She was falling under his spell and she hated it. Their lovemaking always unearthed feelings in her; this time, it was anger.

"Marry you, huh?" She started fucking him harder, wringing his dick in her canal. She wanted him to cum, not from pleasure but because she willed it. Keith fucked back up into her, bouncing her on his lap like a car with hydraulics. He tried to pull her close in an embrace, but she wasn't having it. She leaned away, deepening the angle of penetration, pimping the weight and shake of her breasts as they spun in circles. The position offered a hot visual but less intimacy and Keith picked up on it, even as his libido responded. Why was she running away?

"That's right. Marry me. Get this raw day and night," he bent forward sharply and whispered in her ear. He was mashing her clit, supporting her back, and Kendra had to trust him to hold her almost horizontal as he pumped her full of his cock. She did; Keith would never let her fall. Tears sprang to her eyes. She was so wet, she gushed on his lap with every thrust, yet she scrabbled her nails across his shoulders, caught between pulling closer and pushing him away. That indecision made Keith blow. He had her on the knife's edge, grinding into her mercilessly. He'd spent everything on this one shot, burned all his bridges, mined his emotional depths, because he knew Kendra was worth it. Now, it was starting to look as if she didn't think he was. He pounded her soft body like she stole something.

"I don't want—" Kendra stopped, choking up. 

"What don't you want? An ex-con on your arm? A white baby? Spit it out, princess!"

"I don't want to be strung out on you! Weak for you. Dependent on you, caving into whatever you say. I won't be like Maria and Dad!" Kendra burned with embarrassment at her outburst. She hadn't meant to say it aloud.

Keith gripped her weight and stood, wrapping her legs around his waist. Firmly seated inside her, he carried her to the windowsill and rested her bottom on the ledge before slowly pulling out of her. 

"You're not Maria. Your mom is a wonderful lady, but she'll never be as strong as you are. You're loyal, faithful, in the old sense of the word. You had more faith in me than I did in you. You kept writing with no word from me. You kept loving me. You saved my life three distinct times and stayed strong even when my dirt almost ruined your life. Let's make a deal." Keith pulled a small black velvet box from the teacart and cracked it open, lifting out a square-cut emerald in a simple platinum setting. He bent down on one knee.

"Your love makes me a stronger man, a better man. I think I do the same for you. We're incomplete without each other. If I don't support you the way you need, lift you to where you want to be, you walk away from me, no harm, no foul. Give us a year, baby. I swear to God, I'll give you my all. I'm asking—fuck it, I'm begging. You said you trust me; take my hand and jump with me. Marry me."

Kendra's hand couldn't stop shaking. Not when she slid the ring onto her finger. Not when she gripped the window sill. And not when Keith dug back into her from behind, pushing her happy cries into the night air.