20. Squeak
Thanks for letting us know, Janelle. Your safety is more important than this position, so I understand entirely. Take care of yourself. Let me know when things change.
After running into the Boogeyman at Chance’s house, I sent my boss a letter stating that I would be taking a leave of absence.
“Is this everything, baby girl?” Dad asks, bringing me out of my wayward thoughts and the memory of my boss’s response to my letter.
Dad and a few of my uncles are helping me move out of my apartment because I have decided to stay with my parents for the foreseeable future. After Dad walked into my childhood bedroom and saw me crying, I had to come clean about what I’d been enduring without his knowledge. Sensing the severity of the situation, Dad called Mom to my room so they would be present. It took me several hours to stop hearing Mom’s hysterical cries after learning of the information.
“Talk to us, Janelle. There isn’t anything you can’t share with your mother and me,” Dad coaches soothingly.
Wiping my eyes, I sit up in the bed while looking at my parents before sighing and releasing the burden I’ve been shouldering without their knowledge.
“The man who killed Chelsea is after me and has been since I left after graduating from high school,” I say.
A gasp leaves Mom’s mouth, and her eyes balloon while she blinks continuously.
“Say what?” Dad asks.
“I’ve been getting threatening letters from him,” I say.
“I thought-I thought you didn’t know who he was,” Mom says.
“Up until last night, I didn’t. I still don’t know his name because he has always signed the letters as my Boogeyman.”
“What the fuck do you mean up until last night? You went to a kickback or some shit last night.” The vein in Dad’s temple pulses wildly, matching the deep frown and tightness around his eyes.
“I did. H-he was there and wearing a motorcycle vest,” I say, and a shiver runs down my spine at the memory of the man.
“A motorcycle vest… Oh my God. He’s in one of those gangs. I should have known,” Mom says, throwing up her hands.
“Motorcycle members aren’t a gang, Mom. They also aren’t the bad people you want to believe them to be,” I say.
“Hm. Seems contradictory with you telling me that the man who killed my niece was wearing one of those vests,” Mom says with her tone elevating.
“Focus, Patricia,” Dad interjects.
“Right, because first I had to watch my sister bury her child. Now, here we are years later, on the brink of experiencing that level of pain. I’m not-I—Jesus,” Mom says before wailing, causing Dad to pull her into her arms.
“Baby girl, is this everything?” Dad asks again, pulling me from the disastrous conversation of enlightenment.
Nodding wordlessly, I take a final look at the place I thought would be my residence until I figured out my next move. Thanks to Dad, the apartment manager let me out of my lease without incident. After learning about my secret, Dad insisted that I give up my apartment and stay with them so he could ensure my safety.
Hours later…
“Can I ask you a question, Dad?”
I have been consumed with thoughts of Deacon, and longing to see, hear, or be in his arms has me forging a conversation with Dad we’ve never had before.
“Always, baby girl. What’s on your mind?”
“Why is the male species such mysterious creatures? I’m not talking about you, but some of your kind are idiots.”
A chuckle leaves Dad’s mouth before he mutes the TV and turns toward me, giving me his undivided attention.
“That’s a loaded question. Does it have anything to do with a certain man you haven’t mentioned since being here?”
“Maybe,” I say noncommittally.
“Mhm. Let me give you some advice. A man like the one you introduced your mother and me to might be slow to catch up with what’s in front of him. The thing I can respect about Deacon is that he never shied away from your mother’s or my bullshit. His eyes showed me a man willing to go to war for the woman who doesn’t know his feelings for her.”
My heart rate speeds up and slows down at the words coming from Dad because it's hard to reconcile them with the ongoing silence I’ve been getting from Deacon. I have blocked his number before deleting it to prevent myself from reaching out again.
“I find that hard to believe since all hell has broke loose, and I’m being guarded by you instead of the man who claimed to love me,” I say, breaking eye contact with Dad to avoid his reaction to my words.
“Aw, baby. If that man told you he lo?—”
*bam, bam, bam*
Loud and thunderous banging at the front door cuts off Dad’s words, and my chest tightens, causing my eyes to mist over. Dad, on the other hand, pulls his AK from beside his chair and heads toward the door without a word. Bowing my head and closing my eyes, I open my mouth to pray.
“God, pl?—”
“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear,” Dad says, instantly halting the beginning of my prayer.
Lifting my head, I open my eyes to see Dad grinning like a Cheshire cat and no other than Deacon standing at his side. Now, my heart is racing for a whole different reason when Deacon’s dark orbs rake over my body.
“You’re a sight for my weary eyes, Squeak,” Deacon says huskily.
Dad chuckles, causing me to shift from Deacon to him before he opens his mouth and starts speaking.
“Wow. I get it. Cute. I’m gonna give y’all some privacy. Use it wisely, nigga,” Dad says before patting Deacon’s shoulder and leaving the room.
“While I can respect your father’s gesture, this conversation requires more privacy than these walls can overhear,” Deacon says before invading my space in three large lunges that simultaneously increase the room's temperature and my body.
“Hey, baby girl. Everything all right?” Dad asks when the call connects.
“Mhm. Um… I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be home tonight.”
“Oh, I knew the minute Deacon walked his smooth-talking ass in my house. Love you, baby girl,” Dad says, chuckling.
“Love you too.” Disconnecting the call, my eyes connect with Deacon, and my pussy purrs uncontrollably.
Lord, who can I blame now? I’m sober and about to run at full speed into this collision.
“I bet before the night is over, he won’t be the only male recipient to hear those three words,” Deacon says, stalking toward me like a panther seconds from devouring his prey.
My mouth starts watering, my hands become clammy, and the seat of my panties becomes moist with the first drop of my juices. Deacon’s lackluster beard comforts me from suggesting that he hasn’t been saturating it with another woman’s excitement. The glowing gleam in his gaze causes me to silently pump my fist from the adoration shining unapologetically through his orbs.
“Tonight, I’m gonna show you what my apology feels like, Squeak.” Deacon’s words hit my lower region like a boomerang, and a low moan escapes my lips. “Shhh. Let me redeem myself, love.” Leaning in, Deacon kisses me softly before he picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist.
The heat of my pearl in this position has me wanting to move my hips to release some of the friction. Deacon effortlessly carries me up the steps toward his bedroom, and my eyes stretch when I see it's not the same. With a tenderness not common from Deacon, he lays me on the large bed and presses his lips to mine. Desperate, I kiss Deacon with a hunger that belies my outward calm.
“Mm.” A low moan escapes Deacon’s mouth, instantly saturating my core and making the seat of my panties useless.
“We-we—mm, shouldn’t we talk first,” I say breathlessly disconnecting our lips while staring into Deacon’s eyes.
“We will once I remove the stain of my fuck up from the first time we did this.”
Placing light kisses on my chin, Deacon’s lips begin making a trail down my body, leaving goosebumps behind. Passing my center, Deacon lifts my left leg before taking my toes in his mouth.
“Oh shit!” I jerk from the sensation of his warm mouth when he sucks my toes while hungrily staring at me.
When he releases my left foot after several minutes of care, he moves to my right leg and toes, causing moans to ease from my lips. After Deacon has gotten his fix, he places my leg down and slowly crawls up my body until his face hovers over my pulsing center.
“Damn, you smell good. Have you been touching my pussy, Squeak?”
Shaking my head, I lick my dry lips, unable to respond verbally to which Deacon smirks before diving in like an Olympic swimmer.
“Deacon!” I cry, and my back lifts from the bed while my hands immediately grip his bald head.
Deacon doesn’t need any instruction from me as he reacquaints his tongue with my pearl.
Deacon… my Deacon. Whew, I fucking missed you, baby.
Closing my eyes, I bask in the sensations rippling through my core from Deacon’s expert pussy eating capabilities. Between the low growls coming from Deacon’s mouth vibrating against my clit and his tongue that’s alternating between sucking and licking, I’m seconds from a powerful orgasm. My legs begin shaking, and my eyes pop open when Deacon stops eating my pussy.
“Nah. Your first orgasm won’t be from my tongue. My dick is too jealous for that shit tonight.” Repositioning himself, Deacon widens my legs and pushes into my entrance, causing my walls to grip his dick like a pair of pliers. “Damn, Squeak.”
“Fuck me, Deacon.” I pant.
“Say less.” Deacon pulls out before slamming into me, making me bite my bottom lip when he thrusts in and out of me without the gentleness he had at the start of this.
That’s right. Make your point, Deacon, I’m listening.