11. Res
11
Res
I stomp back over to where the coat giveaway will be and where Jaxson is watching his men do the manual labor of moving the racks into place under the large closed tent.
“Can’t do your own manual fucking labor?” I ask him.
“I could. But my security insisted on coming with me. And if they were going to be here, I figured they’d make themselves useful. Besides. The coats I bought and the check I signed are far more valuable to your organization than my manual labor.”
“It’s also a valuable tax deduction. What do you need security for anyway? Adoring fans you need to bat away? Government assassinations?”
“You’re right. I don’t need it. I’m in more danger at home sitting at the dinner table with my father, family, and Sovereignty inner circle than I am here amongst a bunch of strangers. But, you know. Can’t be too careful when the government and FBI are after you for spreading the absolute truth,” Jaxson deadpans.
He’s clearly joking. But one of those mocking jokes that would go over the head of an actual Sovereign because they believe what he says is true. I wish I could say I don’t find it funny. But I do and can’t help letting out a snicker anyway.
Jaxson smirking at me like he’s in on the joke makes me realize what I’m doing. I quickly frown. No way am I letting my guard down around him.
“Well, you’re here. So you might as well help me organize all these coats,” I say, heading into the tent to get started.
Jaxson follows me, and though there’s so much I want to ask him and so much I want to uncover about why and how he’s here, I get too engrossed in the task of sorting all the children’s coats to care. I say little more to Jaxson than explaining my color-coded sorting system over the next hour or so, aware that in just two hours, people are going to start coming to browse, try on, and take a coat. I only care about Jaxson as far as making sure I don’t let him out of my sight and that he’s putting the coats on the right racks and hangers.
Then I’m preoccupied with helping men, women, and children find coats for the winter. It may not get as cold here as it does up north, and we haven’t seen snow in years, but it gets cold enough. And the cold rain and wind storms don’t help.
Periodically, I let myself get distracted to see where Jaxson is and make sure he’s not spewing some manipulative bullshit to anyone. But he’s not. He helpfully guides people through the racks to pick coats. It’s something anyone can do. Hell, there’s even a bored fourteen-year-old helping pass out coats and process inventory as it leaves. So Jaxson isn’t going to get any applause or special recognition from me. I just… expected worse .
“Take a break for some food, Res,” June says, coming through after I’ve already sent everyone else to take a break.
“You know I don’t eat during events I run,” I remind. “Besides, I heard Deacon Mother Lashonda is bragging that her macaroni and cheese didn’t last longer than the first twenty minutes because of how good it was when Lyssa actually threw it away. That’s a torture I refuse to subject myself to.”
June shakes her head.
“Suit yourself.” June looks at Jaxson. “How about you?”
“I’m fine,” Jaxson replies.
“Peas in a pod, I see,” June says, ignoring the glare I send her way.
Without anything more pressing to do and no one around to hear our exchange, I can finally confront Jaxson.
“How the fuck did you find me here?” I demand
“I told you I was going to invade your life,” he says, idly looking through the remaining coat selection.
“I know what you told me. I asked how the fuck you did it.”
“Now, Lauressa. Vulgarity is unbecoming of you.”
“Don’t infantilize me,” I snap.
“I’m not. It just is.”
“Fuck you,” I say, just to irk him.
It seems I’m irking myself more than him because he just smirks to himself and says, “Aren’t I going to have a good time taming that mouth of yours?”
“I’m not anyone’s to tame, you asshole.”
He stops to look at me calculatingly and says, “Hmm. You’ll see about that. ”
This. Fucking…
“It was your jacket,” he suddenly says.
“My jacket?”
“Your jacket,” he repeats. “That’s how I found you.”
“Did I leave a thread behind, and you used a bloodhound to track me here?”
“It has the logo from the insurance company you used to work for. They only have six regional offices. I hacked their system for all current and previous employees.”
“You hacked the database of an entire corporation with fifty thousand employees to find me?” I ask, stunned.
“Not the entire database. Just the two in the warmest climates of the country since you implied you lived somewhere that didn’t get snow.”
I open and close my mouth. Because how do I even respond to that?
“Does your fucking Oracle know that you’re down here chasing an enemy of the Sovereignty?” I ask for lack of anything better to say.
Normally, I don’t curse this much. But him not liking when I do is incentivizing me. Maybe he’ll find it so unattractive, he’ll leave me alone.
“I don’t tell the Oracle everything I do.”
“Even though your entire life is dictated by what he decides is gospel,” I point out.
“I just have to let him think he dictates my life.”
“So what does he think about you being all the way down here? ”
“He’s doing a lecture tour right now. But what he’s going to think when he returns to Chicago is that I’m integrating myself into the community here to see if this would be a prime place to build and start another altar,” Jaxson says.
“Not on my watch.”
“Of course, it won’t,” Jaxson states. “By the time we even get to the point of building the altar, you’ll be in Chicago with me.”
Before I can tell him that I’d sooner die, a child walks in. A familiar child.
“J,” I say to him. Not Jay, but just J. He hasn’t decided on a full name yet.
“Hey, Res,” J says, hands in the front pocket of a red and blue hoodie that looks like it’s seen better days.”
“Did you get anything to eat yet?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says, quiet as always. Then, “Got anymore coats?”
No doubt he waited until there were the least amount of people all day to come get a coat. Because the more people that see him, the more likely people will get to talking, report it to the wrong people, and have him sent back to his police detective father, Darryl Wright.
I should report it since I’m technically a mandated reporter. But J can take care of himself. And, honestly, whatever foster home or placement CPS would find would be more dangerous for a boy like him. So we made a deal. He comes to One Humanity on my volunteer days every week, I make sure he gets a bath and some food, and I keep my mouth shut if anyone comes looking for him.
“Of course,” I say .
“I tried to come by earlier. But you were helping someone else, and the girl that tried to help me kept showing me girls’ coats,” J mutters.
“Well, I can help now,” I say while making a mental note to tell June that we need to have said girl scratched off the list of volunteers in the future.
I take a cursory glance around our boys’ coats inventory. What we have is decent, but J is going to need something much warmer if he’s going to be sleeping out on the streets.
“I’ll be right back,” I promise before running out the tent.
I climb onto the truck where there are still racks and racks of coats that Jaxson donated. I find a warm wool lined coat about J’s size. Expensive, but one of those expensive coats designed to look inexpensive and unassuming in a supposed “stealth wealth” kind of way. One cut of a tag and the chances of anyone trying to steal it off J’s body to sell dramatically decreases.
I hurry back into the tent to find Jaxson and J talking.
“You’re fucking weird,” I walk in on J saying with a wide-eyed look on his face.
“Vulgarity is unbecoming of a young lady like you trying to make her way in the world,” Jaxson replies.
Fuck.
“I’m not a young lady. I’m a boy, you fuckhead.”
I try to hurry over and intervene before Jaxson says something terrible, but Jaxson is already replying .
“My apologies. I shouldn’t have assumed. Vulgarity is still unbecoming of a young man trying to make his way in the world,” Jaxson says.
“Oh, I’m sure the pimps, dealers, and cops would respect me sooo much more if I didn’t cuss,” J says with a roll of his eyes.
Jaxson smirks. “No. But it is fun to see the dumbfounded look on their faces when they know you insulted them without cursing, and they have no clue how.”
J looks down to hide a grin. Jaxson looking up at me spurs me back into movement from where I had stopped frozen in the door to watch their exchange.
“There you are,” he says. “Did you find a good coat?”
“Yeah…” I say.
Jaxson takes the coat out my hand and says to J, “I’ll help you try it on.”
Jaxson takes J over to one of the mirrors and helps him put on the coat. All the while, I watch like a hawk.
“Look at you,” Jaxson says, standing behind J in the mirror. “Now that coat is becoming of a handsome young man like you.”
J’s face lights up at being affirmed as a handsome young man. He’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice as Jaxson slips a wad of bills into the pocket of the coat.
If Jaxson was going to do anything today besides be here to irritate me with his presence, he would have done it already. So I personally take J over to get his curly brown hair cut, knowing he feels more comfortable with shorter hair. Then I grab a takeout plate, pile it with food, and give it to him.
“You have somewhere safe to sleep?” I ask him before I let him leave.
“Yeah,” he whispers.
“Still have that taser and pepper spray I gave you?” I ask.
He reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out the small bright pink device. He was upset after he saw they were pink when I first got them, until I explained being bright pink, they were less likely to be mistaken as a gun.
“Good,” I say.
I would hug him or place a kiss on his cheek, but J doesn’t appreciate being touched. He mumbles a goodbye, and I continue to watch him leave until he gets to the corner at the stop sign and rounds it. Hopefully, someone else is watching out for J when I can’t.
Figuring it’s been long enough since I’ve laid eyes on Jaxson, I head back to the coat tent. There, I find more people are back and browsing the coats with Jaxson and other volunteers helping them along. Most importantly, the atmosphere isn’t tense. Tired. A little exhausted. But still light and jovial.
I return to helping but observe Jaxson as I do so. Not with suspicion, but curiosity. For all that he says his number one priority is power and that he’s using a cult to get it, he’s… kind? I don’t know if kind is the right word. But he’s patient with the families that come in. Particularly with the children, giving them high-fives and slipping small bills into the pockets of their coats. Nowhere near the amount he gave J but still giving them money.
The contrast bothers me, and it takes everything in me to wait until we’re alone to confront him about it.
“Is it part of your game?” I ask as we pack up the remaining coats in the Sovereignty’s truck to take back to One Humanity’s headquarters.
“Is what part of my game?”
“This…” I trail off and pause, hanging up a coat while I think about it. “I just don’t see how you can be so nice and kind but your ultimate aim be power.”
Jaxson laughs. “Don’t get it twisted, Lauressa. I’m the villain when I need to be. But here, twisting my proverbial mustache and being cruel for no reason does nothing to further my quest for power. Being kind and compassionate? That goes a long way. The more people who can say I’m kind and compassionate, the less weight there is from the words of the few people who will try to tell the world that I am the mustache-twirling villain.”
“Then is it really kindness? Is it really compassion?”
“What does it matter if it’s real or not? In twenty years, when I’m the Oracle of the Sovereignty and people like you want to critique how controlling we are and how we dictate every aspect of our followers lives, there will be a bunch of people who say they remember me showing up with a huge truck and a five-hundred-thousand-dollar check that saved them from having to either go cold or starve one winter,” Jaxson says with a shrug.
“One good deed can’t drown out a thousand bad ones.”
“No. But a million can. ”
“But if you’re only doing it so people overlook your atrocities, that doesn’t make you good.”
Jaxson laughs. “Lauressa, I thought we established that the only thing I care about is money, control, and power. Good and evil? Kindness and unkindness? They are just tools to that end.”
“It’s Res.”
“So juvenile.”
“You don’t get to decide that, asshole!”
“So is your vulgar language.”
Having had enough of Jaxson today, I snap, “Fuck you, Jax ,” and abandon the rest of the coats to stomp out the truck. At least, I try.
Jaxson’s hand snatches me back and suddenly he has me pressed against the back of the truck with both my wrists pinned above my head in one of his hands. His height and size didn’t bother me before. It didn’t seem like he was that tall or that physically overbearing before. But now, with him easily pinning both my wrists in one hand despite my struggles, it makes me feel so little. It makes me realize how little I am.
“Let me go,” I snap, heart racing in… I’m not quite sure really. Fear of what Jaxson is going to do? Anticipation to see just how dangerous this man really is?
“I will. After your first lesson,” he whispers in my ear, body flush against mine.
“Jaxson.”
“You know what villains like me do?” he rumbles. “We take what we want and don’t let anything stop us. ”
His free hand trails down the front of my sweater dress to the hem. With dread, I realize what he’s about to do and suck in a breath to—
“Scream. I dare you. And before the next hour is up, guess what anonymous podcaster is going to suddenly be made public,” Jaxson says, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. “And before you decide to throw all caution to the wind, think very, very hard about the consequences of that.”
I already hated him, and now I hate him more because he’s right. It’s not just my entire social circle at stake. It’s not just my relationship with my parents. It’s the people I do everything in my power to help out of actual kindness unlike Jaxson. If any of that gets out, if the churches and numerous religious organizations One Humanity works with find out I’m actively platforming stories against everything they believe, they’ll pull all their help and funds. They’ll demand ending my involvement as a condition of continuing to give aid. Of course, One Humanity would stand with me. They would see me as the victim in all this. June would fight for me. But I can’t risk all the good we do for a lot of people because I made a scene.
Jaxson’s earlier words come back to me.
A bunch of good weighed against one evil.
Fuck.
I close my mouth and swallow.
“That’s exactly what I thought,” he says. “See, Lauressa. We aren’t so different.”
Jaxson lifts the hem of my dress and then wrenches my tights down to my knees. His hands run across the thin lace of my panties, cold fingers brushing against my warm skin and making me shiver.
“Did you wear these for me today, Lauressa?” he asks.
“Fuck you,” I snap, swallowing to keep the tears in my eyes from falling.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do to that mouth of yours one day since you insist on it being so dirty. But today?”
He tears my panties off, and the next thing I know, he’s touching my cunt. Stroking his finger up and down the length of me.
My legs shake, and my breaths grow shallow. To my shame, I don’t know whether my reaction is from fear or him stimulating me.
“You like that?” he asks, pressing another kiss onto my neck.
“No,” I whimper. “Please, Jaxson.”
“I promise I’ll make you like it. I’ll do it much better than that trash you call a boyfriend.”
Boyfriend? How does he know? He can’t know…
I tense as his finger finds my entrance, only to find resistance.
“What’s this?” he asks.
I’d forgotten all about my period. Forgotten I’d woken up to light cramps and spotting in my underwear, threw my period cup in, tossed back an ibuprofen, and cursed that I hadn’t done laundry so grabbed these stupid flimsy lace panties because they were the only thing clean.
I’d been briefly annoyed and then forgotten about my period. Now I let out a sigh of relief. Because there’s no way—
I gasp as I feel Jaxson digging into me.
“What are… What are you—”
His answer is him pulling out my period cup, full of deep red blood.
“You think a little thing like period blood scares me?” he asks.
“It doesn’t?” I return in a shaky tone.
Jaxson laughs. “You didn’t take me seriously when I said I was going to invade your life and consume you. You think I could do that if I let a little thing like period blood scare me?”
I assumed it would. Lord knows growing up, my dad and brother got freaked out if I asked them to buy me pads. Hell, I wasn’t even allowed to mention that I had a period around my dad or brother. When I was on my period, I had to lock myself in my room with pain medicine and a heating pad so the men in my family wouldn’t even have to ask. I had hoped Jaxson had similar feelings about it.
As though reading my thoughts, Jaxson continues, “Let me prove to you the depth of my commitment.”
Then, without hesitation, he puts the period cup to his lips.
There’s no way. He wouldn’t. He’s not going to—
Jaxson drinks all the blood from the cup in one swoop before dropping it to the ground. Shock temporarily overtakes my fear. Then my fear increases tenfold. Because in this moment, I know I’ve erroneously and egregiously underestimated the depth of the danger Jaxson is. My inability to reconcile his kindness today with his threats to me didn’t help.
“Now,” he begins, pausing to lick his teeth clean of the blood, “Now do you understand?”
I do understand. His devotion to this game is beyond the commitment of a devout worshipper. No, Jaxson’s devotion is the obsession of a fanatic madman.
“You’re sick,” I hiss.
“If that’s true, you’re the poison that makes it so.”
“You sick f—”
He plunges two of his fingers into my cunt and my gasp at the intrusion swallows my words. No. This can’t… I can’t let this just happen. Not without a fight. But his grip on my wrists are like steel, and Jaxson won’t give me any leeway when I try to squirm against him.
“What was that?” he asks as he rhythmically thrusts his fingers.
“Jaxson,” I pant. “Please…”
“Please, what?”
“I—No,” I choke as I feel pleasure building in me.
I bite my lip to stifle the moans that want to come out unbidden as pleasure zings up my spine. Oh my God, that—
I clench my stomach as the pleasure winds me up tight. My breaths become shallower as his thrusting becomes easier from the blood of my period and my arousal. I feel sweat gathering around my chest and sliding between my breasts.
I hate this. I hate this so much. But also, it feels good. So good. And thrilling. Exhilarating that at any moment someone could come in and find Jaxson defiling me. And also humiliating that I can fall apart this quickly. That my body reacts this easily. That some part of me, and I’m not sure how big that part of me is, is getting off on this. That all it takes is a few strokes of my cunt with Jaxson’s fingers for me to lose all control.
But that’s the point.
I’m not in control.
Jaxson is in control.
I hate it.
But I also don’t.
I refuse to give up without a fight, though. I bit my lip and try to hold my breath, trying to deny my body the release that Jaxson is making it wail for. If I wanted to actually orgasm, it wouldn’t come fast enough. But now that I don’t, it’s coming so fast that it’s all I can do to try to stop its momentum. To try to hold it back like the walls of a house trying to stand up against the wind and rain of a category five hurricane. But ultimately, I know it will be in vain, and trying to hold it back just makes it worse. But I can’t stop fighting. I won’t. I—
Jaxson’s thrusting hits just the right spot and a pitiful whimper escapes me as pleasure charges up my spine. My entire body is on fire. I feel my orgasm about to burst. I clench the muscles of my stomach trying to hold it in.
Jaxson’s fingers hit just the right spot again. The palm of his hand slaps my clit. My hips involuntarily grind themselves down into his hand.
“I can’t… I’m going to. N-no,” I stutter just as my defensive walls collapse under Jaxson’s onslaught. As my orgasm destroys me like the wind and rain of a category five hurricane flatten a house .
I arch my body into Jaxson as he continues to fuck me through it all. As he continues to plant kisses on my throat.
Finally, my orgasm comes mostly to an end except for pleasant, dull aftershocks. Jaxson pulls his fingers from me and then stuffs them into my mouth forcing me to taste the salty copper of my period blood mixed with my come and arousal.
“You taste that?” he asks, shoving his fingers even further as I gag. “That’s the desire you had for me, all the while you were saying no. In the Sovereignty, they’d call this a sign of your hypocrisy. Saying one thing while your actions show another.”
He takes his fingers out of my mouth, finally lets go of my wrists, and backs away. My arms fall uselessly to my side and without his weight to support me, I slide down the metal wall behind me until I fall to the floor.
He glances at the ruined lace of my panties. His gaze then trails over to where he dropped my period cup. He picks it up and pockets it.
“I think I’ll keep this as souvenir,” he declares.
He approaches me again and offers his hand to help pick me up off the floor.
I slap his hand away and snap, "Leave me the fuck alone."
He sighs and says, "Don't be absurd, Snow White. You can't stay here like that."
I glare up at him. He holds my gaze.
Ultimately, he's right. I can’t stay here sitting on the floor with my tights around my knees and my wet bleeding pussy exposed .
Left with no choice, I grab his hand. He picks me up off the floor and sets me on my feet. He bends down, grabs the hem of my tights and pulls them back up. He straightens my sweater and makes me look presentable again. Well… presentable enough. So that I look like I’ve just been sweating and working all day—like I actually have been—and not like I just got fucked. Mostly.
Then, Jaxson does something that surprises me. He pulls me into his arms and he… hugs me?
I should push him away. He just assaulted me. The sensible thing to do would be to push away my assaulter but also… how long has it been since anyone hugged me like this? Months? Years, maybe? How long has it been since someone pulled me into their arms, and I’ve felt warm and safe?
I don’t understand. How do I feel safe in the arms of the man who just hurt me? This is insane. It’s illogical. It’s—
“I know right now you hate me, Snow White. But one day, you’ll look back and thank me. One day, you’ll look back and laugh at yourself for thinking you needed to resist me,” Jaxson rumbles in my ear.
He lets me go and leaves the truck, calling to his men to hurry up so they can drop the coats off.
I watch him go, relieved at his absence but also.... I miss the warmth of his embrace.