Authors: Sandra Kitt
On that Sunday as they returned home together from church, Leah, in an animated voice filled with drama and amusement, told Gail about Reverend Mackie’s service on redemption and salvation that she’d heard in Chicago.
Gail was not amused. “Well, you would have been a lost cause. Poor Reverend Mackie would have dropped dead on the altar if he’d known about you and Jason.”
Leah smiled to herself. “Progress. At least you didn’t call him ‘that white man.’”
Leah gazed across the street to the lush greening of Prospect Park. She shook her head slowly. “Reverend Mackie wouldn’t have condemned me. Daddy didn’t. He told me to make up my own mind about Jason.”
“Then I guess you have.”
Leah stopped walking and touched Gail’s arm to face her. “Look, Gail. You have to understand something I just figured out all by myself. I am the only one who can decide my identity. And the only person who I care about offending is God. I’ll work it out with Him. All right?”
Gail stared at her sister and knew that Leah meant every word. She merely shrugged. “So what happened the other night?”
Leah thought. What had happened? Maybe her life had been saved. Maybe she’d regained possession of herself … and her soul. But certainly it was much more than that. It had to do with happiness.
Leah didn’t tell Gail everything.
When the bell had rung at seven o’clock that Friday morning, more than eight hours after Jason had left her for his work tour, Leah had been in her robe, nervously trying to plan her day. Just in case Jason didn’t return. The bell made her jump, and her hands were icy cold as she walked down the hall to the front door. She opened it slowly, and found him silhouetted against the bright morning sun. Leah couldn’t see the details of his face, only the motion of Jason running his hands through his hair as he removed the red cap. A hesitant grin broke through the shadows of his face and he murmured hi. Leah smiled in utter relief.
She moved back so that Jason could step into the entrance, but he reached out to take her hand and stop her. He closed the door, leaned against it, and pulled her into his arms. Leah could feel his weariness in the slow movements of his hands.
With a studied intensity Jason kissed her and began to explore her mouth with his own. Leah pressed closer, her inhibitions disappearing as Jason deepened the kiss with a hunger that seemed shocking and erotic. His tongue danced with hers, explored slowly to reclaim her, and sought the kind of response from her that had always stirred him. His hands roamed her body, from her shoulders to her spine, down to her waist and buttocks. Jason arched Leah still closer. He managed one hand in between them to squeeze Leah’s breast through the fabric of her robe in a blatantly masculine, possessive gesture.
Jason pulled the robe belt until it loosened and the robe fell open. Leah pulled her mouth free of his, but Jason only transferred his kisses to her chin, and then her throat and neck while he had pushed the robe aside and slipped his arms around her warm body, awkwardly trying to bring their passion together. They were still standing in the hall.
“Jay …” Leah got out breathlessly, bracing her hands against his chest and pushing to separate them. He slowly let her go.
“Jesus …” Jason moaned, and in that one blasphemous word was the depth of his feelings.
Leah took his hand and moved toward the stairwell. The robe fell around her, and Leah simply stepped out of it, leaving it on the floor. She had on only a pair of panties.
If their first time together had been extraordinary, this time was beyond description. They had discovered from the beginning that they were sexually suited to each other. Now the physical coupling was aided by feelings: real and admitted and enjoyed. This was better than before. The hard edge of doubt was not totally gone, but the genuine need was deeper and more stimulating. The softer allure of caring seeped in. Leah felt an intense, happy rejuvenation of her spirit and soul, her mind and body.
They didn’t wait because they’d been waiting too long. Everything now became basic and elemental. Their bodies had worked together as nature meant them to. Rocking and riding together, fused. Jason thrusting and Leah opening and lifting to receive him. They couldn’t get close enough. They gave in to the power of the moment, the sheer bliss of release, and blended into each other. Her climax was so strong that she was to believe later that she’d held everything in, waiting just for him. But afterward, with her body languid and trembling, Leah felt also a brief rush of guilt. She was suddenly sure that feeling this good was a sin and she would have to pay for it later.
For a very long time afterward Jason lay collapsed on her body, his face buried in her hair and neck. His breath was hot, labored, and ticklish against her skin. Slowly Leah’s legs relaxed and stretched out, and she let the full male weight of Jason’s body cover her. Her hands took liberties they never had before: the simple gesture of stroking his hair, fingers teasing his buttocks. Reflexively Jason squeezed his hips against her, then relaxed again with a deep moan. He slid limp and damp from within her body.
“I missed you,” Jason whispered simply. “I really missed you.”
The words overwhelmed Leah.
“You only want me for my body,” she teased, and was rewarded with a soft laugh.
Slowly Jason lifted his head to look down at her, his gaze slumberous with satisfaction. “Now I know what brown sugar really means …”
He wanted her again. He cupped her breasts, causing the nipples to tighten into buttons and swell. He let his hands stroke down Leah’s rib cage and to her stomach, continuing along her thigh. Jason kissed her cheek and lowered his torso to Leah’s chest.
“You have pretty skin.”
Jason cupped his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her. He was hard again.
It was Leah’s turn to moan.
“Yes. Yes …” Jason responded before slipping his body into hers, joining them together once more.
It had been slower and longer that time. Less urgent and desperate, more tenderness and thought. And in that time together Leah had forever banished the doubts and fears of the past. She had set about the business of basking in the affections of Jason Horn—cop, friend and lover—who accepted her as she was.
Leah had prayed fervently that the handball tournament she’d been foolish enough to instigate had been forgotten, but she had no such luck. When Jason informed her that he’d arranged a night of handball playoffs, Leah stoically agreed and kept her apprehensions to herself. On a mid-summery Wednesday night she and Jason drove up to the Bronx once again.
“Relax,” Jason said to her on the drive up. “These guys are tough, but they have a strange and unpredictable code of ethics. They might take the game lightly and not try to make you look bad.”
Leah chuckled. The very idea that they might patronize her was ironic. “Or, I might actually fool them all.”
“Are you playing to beat them?”
“No. I’m going to play to
win.”
Jason nodded. “Good. They don’t get a chance often enough to interact with someone like you, Leah. You have a normal life. You aren’t within the circles of the criminal justice system.”
“Well, I want to show them something else,” Leah murmured thoughtfully.
Jason shot her a brief questioning glance.
“I want them to know I don’t think they’re worthless.”
“They’re still going to give you a hard time. It’s part of their profile.”
“I can handle it,” she sighed confidently.
Leah had not played handball since junior high school, when her body was fearless and moved without feminine consciousness. She was no match for these young bloods, but she was going to try not to make a fool of herself.
On the sidelines at the gym, several of the boys were already bored and snickering with their assurance of beating her. Leah could barely contain her disappointment when Jason paired her opposite Slack. She could only guess that if Jason had, in any way, sensed her trepidation about being around the boy, he might well try to end the hostility by making them team players. Leah decided to stick with the lineup, even though it was clear that Slack was unhappy about it, too. They both knew it wasn’t going to make a difference.
Leah glanced apprehensively at Jason, but of course he knew nothing of her feelings about Slack, or of the gnawing fear that he was capable of stoking. Leah fought it. She was going to play this game because now she
had
to play it. She was clearly on her own. She’d done nothing to prepare for the game because she’d hoped it would never happen. But when Leah had taken her place and the first game began, her body immediately assumed the proper form and position. She lost all awareness of herself, except that she felt her body move automatically to play the game. It was like riding a bicycle after many years; she hadn’t forgotten how.
Leah had only intended her challenge to show the boys that she was game. In a way, she wanted a little of the respect they’d readily given to Jason. But she underestimated the power of their ego. Slack played not to just win but to punish her.
He gave no quarter to her being a girl, and more than once he bumped or pushed her as he stretched for the ball. Leah didn’t know if it was deliberate or not, but the hard, damp contact with Slack made her feel bullied. Her heart raced. She struggled to maintain her distance. And lost the first game.
In the second Leah got knocked to the ground. An elbow jab to her side sent her to one knee, but she was up again before anyone could react, before Jason could intervene. She turned her wide, alert gaze to Slack as she regained her footing and found him daring her with his expression to do anything. Complain, retaliate, or back down. Leah played on. And lost the second game.
Jason blew the whistle.
“All right, that’s it. Game. Match.”
Leah walked away feeling as if every joint in her body had been hit with a stick. Her right arm especially felt numb, and her hand was slightly swollen from contact with the hard ball. Leah expected some comment, recognition, praise, from the boys. It never happened. There was only a muttered remark or two, not even meant for her to hear.
“My woman only worry ’bout sweatin’ and her hair nappin’ up.”
“That’s ’cause your woman is jive,” a boy named Tall added, and the boys cracked up in laughter.
There was weak applause from the benches. Leah had no idea who or what it was for, and just then she didn’t care. Her side hurt with every breath. She felt brutalized. Slack had done his best to put her in her place. And he’d succeeded. She was rattled and feeling shaky.
Leah got her tote and towel. She’d been careful this time not to have anything more in her possession than what she needed for the game. She felt a cool familiar hand on the back of her neck, and still she jumped skittishly. She returned to face Jason.
“You were terrific. I didn’t know you were a jock. What else can you play?”
“Oh, Old Maid. Checkers, and Scrabble. That’s it,” she responded with forced levity.
Jason frowned at her. “You okay?”
She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Fine. I just need—where’s the ladies room?”
Jason relaxed and gently squeezed her shoulder. “Out the door to the left, down the hall and left again.”
Leah acknowledged the directions and began to walk away.
“Leah?”
She stopped and turned, gazing blankly at him. His voice sounded like an echo. Jason slowly approached and stared into her face. “Did you get hurt out there? Did Slack step over the line?”
She hesitated but then shook her head, determined to see the night through and not to let Slack’s hostility get to her.
“I’m okay. I’ll be right back.”
The hallway was cool and unadorned. Just cement walls and two naked ceiling bulbs for light. Leah could see down the hall and it was empty. But the adjacent junction at the end suddenly made her nervous. She considered that maybe she didn’t need to use the facilities at all and could wait until she was home. She was being silly. Nothing was going to happen to her here.
He
wasn’t here.
The bathroom was small and not particularly clean. She hurried through washing her face and changing into street clothes. She began to feel an unreasonable anxiety building, that she was going to be trapped in the bathroom in this unpleasant section of the hall and no one would find her. Leah’s throat felt blocked. She scrambled to get out of the bathroom, throwing plain sense to the wind. She just wanted to get back to the dilapidated open gym where there was light … and Jason.
She got to the first junction and turned right. There was someone there, walking toward her. She stopped and her throat completely closed. It seemed so simple to just call out, ask who it was, but she couldn’t. For there followed a long moment when the hallway changed dimensions and shape, and even the person coming toward her grew larger and larger and more threatening.
Leah stopped walking and put a hand on the wall, as if that would keep it from closing in on her. The approaching figure walked in a slow, cocky gait. She heard a cackle of laughter. Slack. Leah couldn’t decide if he’d deliberately followed her, or if it was a coincidence he planned to take advantage of. She stood still, feeling trapped again. She felt overheated and had a terrible flashback of being caught in that stairwell. Leah could smell Slack. He turned sideways to slide past her, and he suddenly stopped right in front of her. She kept her gaze down.
“’Cuse me,” Leah said, slightly breathless. She wanted to inch away toward the exit.
“You scared of me,” Slack said with obvious pleasure.
Leah shook her head. “No … I just don’t like you very much.”
“I don’t fuckin’ like you, either, bitch.”
She turned from him, free of any possibility of touching him. She stumbled over her own feet and fell.
Slack laughed uproariously. “Have a nice trip?”
Leah took a deep breath and stood up again. The question inadvertently stilled the panic. She turned to face the nightmare, but there was just Slack. Beyond him, Jason came rushing forward.
“What’s going on here?” Jason demanded, forcing his way through to her.