The Enclave of Jyme (G Street Chronicles Presents)
Read The Enclave of Jyme (G Street Chronicles Presents) Online
Authors: Phoenix Rayne
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G STREET CHRONICLES PRESENTS
THE ENCLAVE OF JYME
“From Love to Loathe Series”
by
Phoenix Rayne
From Love to Loath Series Part 1
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From Love to Loathe Series Part 2
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Copyright 2015 Phoenix Rayne
Published by:
G Street Chronicles, LLC
P.O. Box 1822
Jonesboro, GA 30237-1822
www.gstreetchronicles.com
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written consent from both the author, and publisher G Street Chronicles, except brief quotes used in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. It is not meant to depict, portray or represent any particular real person. All the characters, incidents, and dialogues are the products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any references or similarities to actual events, entities, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, entities, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author/publisher.
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Table of Contents
From Love to Loath Series Part 1
From Love to Loathe Series Part 2
Enclave
enˌklāv
A portion of territory within or surrounded by a larger territory
whose inhabitants are culturally or ethnically distinct.
A place or group that is different in character from those surrounding it.
Chapter 1
My face was lost in her jet black hair. She hated for me to stare into her eyes for a long period of time, so I buried my face in her hair. She said when I stared into her eyes, it made her uncomfortable. I was too big for her in more ways than one.
Her frail body was a prisoner undermine. There was no physical way she could be on top of me right now. This was one of our many tests. Her light brown skin was luminous in the moonlight. We had both only been with each other; this was our gift to one another. We’d been together since we were toddlers and our families had been friends long before then.
I tried pushing inside of her as slowly as I could. She gripped the sheets and tried her best to bite back her tears. I stopped pushing and took a breath; I wanted to pound every inch of me into her so fucking bad. My dick was rock hard, and I needed to be all the way in her. But I knew better; I knew she couldn’t handle all of me.
I kissed the side of her tear-streaked face and she whimpered. I took a few quick breaths trying to calm myself down, and then I pushed in a little deeper. I heard a ripping noise and froze. She uttered a gut-wrenching cry and I stopped breathing. She kept crying. I pulled out of her slowly, and she started screaming just like the last time. I kissed the side of her wet face again, and then got up from the bed. I picked my boxers up from the floor and went out to the hall. I dialed the number and waited for her to answer.
“Hello?” she said.
“Mom.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Then she hung up. I pulled my boxers back on and waited. Elle was screaming for me from the bedroom, but I couldn’t go back in there. We had tried this so many times, and the same thing happened over and over again. Elle had insisted on doing this once a month, and we had been going at this almost nine years straight and it wasn’t getting any better. I was too fucking big for her small frame. My family had been cursed with this for generations. Some people think guys with big dicks get all the girls, but that’s not the case here. Those of us who grew up on the Reservation, we call it the Res. People on the reservation have been telling horror stories about the men in my family for years now. The girls are afraid of me and even the kids keep a distance from me. I’m a joke in our small community.
People said things like, “Hey, if you hook up with Lil Sampson, he’d turn your puss into big Sampson.” “Fucking little Sampson will have you walking bowlegged.” “Want a free hysterectomy? Fuck Lil Sampson.”
I heard shit like that constantly and so did Elle. Everyone knew our story and I hated it. Nothing was ever kept a secret here on the Res. It felt like being in one giant soap opera.
“Lil Sampson, please don’t be mad at me,” Elle cried from my bedroom. I rushed back over to the door and went to the bed.
“Shhhhh,” I wrapped my arms around her, trying my best to soothe her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Elle, don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault; it’s all mine.”
“No, it isn’t,” someone said from behind us. I turned around and saw my mom with one of the medicine women. She told me she would be on hand just in case, and this was a case for her to fix. I felt horrible doing this to Elle every single month, but she insisted. Elle said we had to work through this slowly. I was trying, but it wasn’t working. The medicine woman and my mother both wore blank looks.
I pulled away from Elle and she clung to me. “Please don’t leave me. You always leave me in here with them by myself.”
“Elle, let them work. I’ll be right in the other room, I promise.”
“Don’t,” she begged. I pulled her hand from my arm and she exploded into hysterics. I couldn’t bear to hear her like that. I left, shutting the door behind me. I went into the laundry room, found a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, put them on, and shoved my feet into some old sneakers. Elle screamed at the top of her lungs, and I heard my mother trying to soothe her. I went to the front door and slammed it as hard as I could behind me. I walked down the street and entered into the small forest. I found a spot deep into the trees where no one could see me and sat down on the damp ground.
I had been there maybe five minutes or so when I heard someone coming up behind me. I didn’t even turn around; I didn’t give a fuck who it was.
“Hey, man,” Sheen said. Sheen was one of my oldest friends. We were in Kindergarten together and were playmates before then. He knew the scoop and understood my frustration. He sat down on a nearby rock and stayed silent. After a few minutes, I finally looked up at him. He was staring out towards the ocean. We couldn’t really see it that well through the trees, but we could hear it loud and clear.
“Some kids said a whale came up towards the shoreline yesterday,” he said. “Yeah, the kids are scared now; they think it’s a killer whale and that it’s going to eat them.”
We both sat there in silence. I knew Sheen was trying to get me to talk, but I wasn’t in the mood. He slid his fingers through his blood red Mohawk. Sheen’s Mohawk went from his scalp to his ankles; he had been growing it since he was little. He had dyed it red a few years back and it’s been getting redder and redder ever since. Sheen had tribal tattoos all over his body; and from a stranger’s eye, he looked dangerous, like someone who should be avoided. But in all honesty, he was the nicest guy I knew.