23. Rare Flowers in Bloom #3
“Why are you covered in blood?” she asked.
Caleb’s face fell. “I was… working…”
“Hacking someone to pieces for your precious soil,” Ian said, covering the floor.
Caleb rolled his eyes. Grabbing Deja, he nudged her towards the door. “Baby, just wait for us outside.”
“No,” she said. “I was in the middle of an important conversation before Ian disappeared on me.”
“What, you’re going to interrogate him while we dismember dead bodies?” Caleb asked.
Deja tried not to gag as she turned to face the door. “...yes. I just won’t watch.”
Caleb raised a brow and looked at Ian, who shook his head with a grin. “Fine,” Caleb sighed.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Deja stared at the door. “Did you guys grow up in an abusive household?” she asked.
Caleb snorted, and Ian laughed. “There’s no such thing in our lifestyle,” Ian said.
“You guys can’t just make up your own rules,” she said, annoyed.
“You need to stop trying to define our lifestyle by your standards,” Ian advised.
Deja sucked her teeth. “If your parents ever hit you or threatened you, that’s abuse.”
“It’s not abuse. It’s discipline,” Caleb said.
“That is not- My god!” she said, rubbing her forehead. “This is why you guys kill so freely. Because your parents probably messed you up.”
“Well, that’s not very nice,” Ian said, sawing through an arm. “...even if it’s true.”
“Partially true,” Caleb said, tossing a foot into a bag.
Deja shook her head. “Instead, they should have been teaching you how to deal with your emotions. Killing isn’t the solution to all of your problems.”
“I beg to differ,” Ian mused. “These men deserved worse. They certainly don’t deserve your sympathy.”
Deja sighed. “I’ve dealt with worse, Ian.
You think this is my first time dealing with misogyny in the workplace?
I’m a woman in corporate America. A dark-skinned Black woman at that.
There are so few of us in STEM that I’m used to having my intelligence and my expertise questioned.
As if my very presence is a mistake. I’ve spent the majority of my life trying to prove myself to people who struggle just to see my humanity, let alone my passion to heal a world I love so much… ”
Deja’s eyes fell as her nostrils quivered and her eyes watered.
“I led this project for 8 years before we were finally able to get it in front of the research board. I was supposed to present. But Susan said it would be better received if presented by Carmen. And I was just so… incredibly angry… and hurt… Because she was right …”
Tears cascaded down Deja’s cheeks as her eyes glazed over with sadness.
“A solution to save the world was more digestible from a silky-haired, light-skinned, pretty woman than a dark-skinned, kinky-haired bother like me. So I had to watch someone else pitch something that took all of my blood, sweat, and tears…”
Wiping the tears from her face, she chuckled. “But I still got here. I know how to play the game. And that doesn’t include killing the people I need to get there,” she said, turning around to face them.
Deja was taken aback by the uncharacteristic morose expression on Ian’s face as he stared at her with deep concern. She glanced at Caleb, whose face had flushed red, in contrast to his sorrowful, deep-green eyes.
“...well… now, I agree with Ian,” Caleb said finally. “They fucking deserved it.”
“Thank you,” Ian said.
“I hope you made them suffer.”
“Obviously.”
Deja looked at them, startled. “ That’s your takeaway?!”
“Baby,” Caleb started. “Your argument for not killing is to tell us how awful the world has been to you since birth? I mean, shit, Ian and I are white men. We don’t deal with systemic oppression like you, and yet we've killed for less.”
“If anyone would be justified in massacring a room of repulsive imbeciles rich off of blood money, it would be you. You would be completely justified in your rage. I thought you were reading Rosleyn’s Memoir. She touches on this very thing,” Ian added.
“Are you guys lecturing me right now?” Deja asked, bewildered.
“Not at all,” Caleb said, removing his gloves as he approached her. He gently grabbed her shoulders, smiling ruefully. “Just… trying to get you to see things from a different perspective.”
She shook her head. “Caleb, nothing justifies this-”
“You are the most brilliant, creative, and empathetic person I have ever met,” Caleb said, staring into her eyes. “You put others before yourself and take pride in being subservient as if it’s some sort of badge of honor to be treated less than what you deserve.”
“Being subservient is not being treated less,” she argued.
“You minimize yourself to make others feel comfortable,” Ian said from behind her, playing with her zipper. “You sacrifice your comfort for theirs… Why?”
“I don’t know. It’s just… how I was raised,” she sighed.
“You were raised to make yourself uncomfortable for others?” Caleb asked. “That sounds like abuse.”
Deja scoffed. “That’s not abuse! That’s- That’s-”
“Discipline?” Ian asked with a raised brow.
Deja averted her eyes. She wasn’t a fan of being tag-teamed like this. “So the only time you guys get along is to gang up on me?” she snorted.
“Naturally. You are rather distracting…” Ian said, tracing his finger down her spine as his lips brushed the back of her shoulder. “Even from the dirty farmer boy.”
“See?” Caleb grinned, grabbing her chin and tilting her head up.
His fingers ran over the front of her dress, playing with the flap of her slit.
“Normally, I’d try to stab the pompous bastard.
But instead… I get to look at your beautiful face- Where are your panties?
” Caleb asked, surprised, brushing his fingers against her exposed pussy.
“They’re in my pocket,” Ian grinned.
“Bastard…” Caleb muttered.
“You guys are changing the subject,” Deja said, moving his hand.
“What more is there to discuss?” Ian asked. “You’ve gone through life feeling ashamed of the same beauty and spirit that’s made us dangerously addicted to you. And while you may not value your self-actualization, we do. Even if it means spilling blood.”
Deja shook her head. “The problem is that I value all human life!”
“And we value yours… ” Caleb said, holding her gaze. “... above all .”
Sandwiching her between them, Ian breathed into her ear. “...above all.”
* ? “Thank you.”