Four months later, I lay in our bed, his skin rubbing against mine. I writhed under Zion's touch as he ticked along the sides of my body. Sheets and blankets had long fallen on the floor. We had been playing around on the bed like horny adolescence since we woke up. He had been playful since returning from an out-of-state game. Moments like these were forever etched into my mind.
I was wearing nothing but a light misting of citrus body spray. The smell influenced Zion; it was tantalizing to him. He couldn't keep his hands off of me. I was not against him feeling on me; it was one of the better parts of my days in Seattle.
"Baby please," I begged. He continued to tickle me until I grabbed for his manhood. He stiffened and his body stopped moving.
"Now that you have it, what are you going to do with it?" I winked at him before taking the challenge. He allowed me to lean up, still caressing him in my hand. I laughed before kissing him. He laughed into the kiss before he used his weight to push me onto my back.
Two hours later, Zion was laying along his couch, tired from our early morning romp. I walked up to him with a second plate of pancakes I had made for the house. I had been cooking a lot more than when I was living in Atlanta. I loved making something that everyone could enjoy. It was the only way I had contributed to the house. A few companies had asked me to model, which I did a few times to make some money of my own but that was not the same as having a real job.
Walking down the stairs was Cisco and Zaire, Zion's younger brother. He came over as often as he could. He worked for the military so he was often busy. He told me he had joined since he did not want to live off of his brother's wealth. Not that he never asked for money. I enjoyed having a full house who wanted to be taken care of by me.
The two walked over. Zaire who was a skinnier and slightly shorter version of his brother made a plate for himself and Cisco. I greeted them before going over to Zion and sitting next to him.
Zaire walked into the living room. "Aye bro, let me hold something." He shouted while Cisco ran over, plate in hand, and sat next to us. Sports were a staple on the television and I hated it.
"Stop shouting in the damn house. Why are you always yelling?" I shouted back at him. Cisco and Zion both laughed. Zaire sucked his teeth before sitting down and eating.
"You aren't going to do anything about it," he muttered.
"What was that? I couldn't hear you," I joked. Being around Zaire was like being around the brother I always wanted.
"Nothing, don't you have dishes to watch?" He chuckled to himself.
"Are we getting smart? Because I bought those shoes, you were just asking for money for." I said.
"Now why would you do something like that, you know I love you." Zion chuckled at his brother.
"Don't start flirting with my boy before I have to hurt you," Zion laughed. Zaire waved him off and watched the television. We all watched the television watching Zion on the screen catching a ball. This was the normalcy I had always been looking for in my life.
We moved through the day without leaving the couch except to get something. Cisco played with toys next to me. He'd occasionally ask me random questions that I would have to research to give him an answer.
The sound of someone hitting the doorbell ripped the lazy energy from us all. "Who is that? I haven't invited anyone over," Zion said. He hated when people came over unannounced. He stood up to answer the door, but I pulled him back down before getting up myself.
"I'll get it," I said, moving past him. I did not want him to yell at anyone. Moving through the foyer, I reached the door which I opened. There were two tall men at the door one younger than the other. The youngest man had a light brown skin and bushy black brows that grabbed my attention. His nose was wide and had full pink lips framed by his mustache and goatee. His eyes were also a bright hazel. He wore athletic wear while the older man had on a charcoal suit.
The older man looked familiar. He had clear deep skin with wrinkles that could only come with age and stress. His beard was cropped but dark like his hair. His eyes black like the night sky. The only part of his appearance were his lips that were a deep berry color.
"Can I help you?" I felt the need to shut the door on them but didn't know why.
"Move out of the way," the younger man said. I tried to close the door, but he held it open. We began to argue until we heard Zion speak behind. His voice was threatening; it sent chills down my spine.
"Is there a problem here?" He walked closer to me and wrapped his arms around my upper torso.
"They were just leaving," I said. At that point, I was ready to fight them. Zion flinched at my tone. He hated when I got angry and would tell me he hated to see me as anything other than peaceful. Zion looked from me to the men. He gave the younger man a passing glance while the oldest one got a hard squint.
"Who are you and why are you here?" Ziare said coming up from behind us. His Houston accent had made an appearance. The youngest did not look much younger than Ziare who had turned twenty-four a few months before I moved.
"Who are you talking to bitch," the younger man said. I turned to Zaire, his nose flared in outrage. The yelling came soon after.
"Bitch, I will bust your head open on the driveway." Zaire pulled his socks off for a better grip on the floor. Zion had told me that his brother used to have an anger problem, but I had never seen it.
"Calm down Zane, we didn't come here to fight," the older man said. His voice was deep and quick. He spoke like a shady salesman.
"Why are you here, Walter?" Zion asked. I knew something about the men were familiar. Zion looked at his father, who gave him a pitiful gaze. It was as fake as the one my mother used to give me.
"Zion, I know that you hate me and you and your brother have every right to feel that way. I can never apologize enough for leaving you two, but it's time that the family comes back together. I want Zane and Zephyr to meet their family."
"I'm good on that, goodbye," Zion said. Their words bored him. He had grown up hearing his dad's lies. He had said nothing Zion deemed important enough to entertain.
"I just need five minutes to explain some things," Walter pleaded. He stepped closer towards the door, trying to get out of the drizzle. I had not even noticed how soaked they were getting.
"Why are you guys standing in the rain?" A feminine voice rang from behind the men. They moved out of the way and showed a girl of both African and Asian descent with a mane of maroon hair on her head. She was pretty and looked closer to Zion's age than her other two brothers. She held a black umbrella, leaving her black dress dry.
"Zephyr you were supposed to wait in the car," Zane said. He was an aggressive person, but she did not look bothered at all. She looked annoyed with her brother.
"Can we please come in and dry off," she asked, she had an accent I couldn't place. Zion remained silently in thought for a few seconds before he spoke.
"Come in, you have one hour to say what you need to say. If I don't like it, I'll let Zaire beat you up. Take your shoes off too," Zion said. He pulled me along to the couch. Cisco was there and waiting.
"Go upstairs bunny and don't come down," I told him. He should not be a witness to what they would say or do. He obliged and walked up the stairs with his toys. His siblings came into the living room and we all took a seat. Zion, Zaire and I sat on the couch while his new sibling and father sat in chairs around the room. I turned the television off to remove the distraction.
The air felt heavy in the room. Zion was itching to hit Zane who was silently taunting him. Zephyr was staying at everything in the house. I felt with high certainty that she was analyzing everything in the room. Walter looked comfortable in the chaos he had brought.
He was like my father. Untouchable and always with an angle. I knew a snake when I saw one. I grew up in a nest of conniving, selfish creatures. I was sure the next words out of his mouth would be a complex string of lies. All I needed was for him to speak.
YOU ARE READING
Daddy IssuesShort Story
Cyprus Sampson has become very comfortable picking up the pieces of his life. Glueing those pieces together was the part of the process he had not prepared for. To cope with being discarded by most of his family, Cyprus turned to men with money. Aft...