Sean reminded himself of his and Von’s eight years of friendship. That had created a bond of sorts between them. Their relationship may have begun because of Derrick, but it continued on its own merit. Now there was a physical connection as well. He was her first—and only, if he had anything to say about it—lover. They say you never forget the first.
The question is, would Von think of this as a good or bad thing? Only one way to find out. He headed back to his vehicle and punched Von’s address into the truck’s GPS.
Chapter Seven
“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?”
Von jolted awake. “Huh? What?”
“Your face,” Marketta forced out between clenched teeth. “What. Happened?”
“Derrick—”
“Oh, hell, no! Tell me that fucker didn’t hit you.” She whipped out her cell phone and punched in a number. “Yeah, Moose, it’s me. Grab some boys and—”
It hurt like crazy but Von managed to lunge up and knock the phone from Marketta’s unsuspecting hands. It bounced off the bed and onto the floor.
“What’s the matter with you? Do you know how much I paid for this phone?” her cousin griped as she stood to go get it.
Von grabbed her arm and held on with strength born of desperation. “My fault,” she said. “Don’t. I’m to blame.”
Marketta narrowed her eyes. “I can’t believe this shit. Next you’ll be telling me you accidentally ran into his fist. What the hell is wrong with you? He HIT you. You know we don’t play that shit!”
“Let me explain,” she pleaded, still holding on tight. Oh, God, why hadn’t she thought about her cousin’s reaction before calling her to come over? The last thing Von wanted is anyone else knowing how she’d humiliated herself and what came after, but if she wanted to avoid the violence Marketta was about to set into motion, she’d have to tell all.
Her cousin stared at her for a long moment. “I doubt anything you say could justify this,” she flicked a finger at Von’s face, “but you got five minutes. Make it good.”
In the background Von could hear Moose calling her cousin’s name. She looked at the phone and Marketta followed her gaze. “Let go.”
Von released her and she went and picked up the phone saying, “Sit tight for a minute. I’ll call back in a few...mmm-hmm...yeah.” She push the disconnect button and crossed over to the dresser and leaned her butt against it, hands crossed over her chest. “Talk.”
Slowly, painfully, reluctantly, Von told her cousin what happened from the meeting with Sean at the restaurant until Von’s phone call asking Marketta to come over. When she finished, Von collapsed upon the pillows, her head once more throbbing in pain, waiting for her cousin’s reaction.
Marketta shook her head. “Damn, girl. You fucked Sean in Derrick’s apartment where he could walk out at any moment and see?”
Von flinched and turned her face away in shame.
“Damn...” That’s all her cousin seemed to be able to say. Quiet descended. Von was once more shamed by her actions and her cousin, no doubt in shock.
Finally, Marketta stirred. “Look, I’m not saying what asshole did is right. Hitting a woman is plain wrong. I don’t care what the provocation, but you’re right. No need to get the boys involved in this. Although I’m still tempted...”
Von glanced back at her cousin to see Marketta caressing her phone and eyeing it consideringly. “Don’t tell anybody, ’kay? I don’t want them knowing I...” She couldn’t finish.
Marketta set the phone on the dresser and came and sat by her on the bed. “Von, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I know you’re blaming yourself but this whole thing is Derrick’s fault.”
When she tried to protest, her cousin cut her off. “Listen to me! He came over here and got you all stirred up. Hell, Von, he’s been jerking your chain for years, and I’m not just talking about sex. When you went over there to finally do something about it, he pushed you away. Cruelly, in front of a witness. Personally, I’m glad Sean was there. Yeah, so things got a little out of hand between you two. Just means that’s some strong chemistry between you and Sean.”
Von shook her head, denying that last bit. “No, there’s nothing between Sean and me. He just...”
Marketta arched both her eyebrows. “What? You think you raped Sean? A big strong man like that?” She laughed. “Honey, you’re so clueless it’s ridiculous. I told you the hunk was here for you. Granted, I didn’t expect you to offer yourself to him on a platter, but I’m not surprised he jumped on it, or rather, let you jump on it.” She wagged her eyebrows, laughing when Von flushed.
“Marketta!”
She shook her head, smiling crookedly. “I’ll say this for you. You never do things halfway. Let me get some ice for that swelling.”
Her cousin left the room before Von could get her thoughts together. Her mind still stuck on the image of her lowering her body onto Sean’s penis. In spite of the pain she was in, the memory of him moving inside of her, the feel of him stretching her deep within was enough to arouse her all over again.
Marketta came back with ice in a sealed plastic bag with a towel wrapped around it in one hand, and a glass of water and bottle of painkiller in the other. Von took two pills then set the icepack on her face. As she felt her eyes closing, she told her cousin, “Don’t let me sleep too deeply.”
“I know how to treat a concussion. I’ve handled my share of them. What about your job. What’s your schedule?”
Von’s eyes popped open. “I’m off tonight but—”
Seeing her alarm, Marketta said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll call. Tell them you were playing football with the family and it got a little too rough. You caught an elbow in the eye and for them not to expect you in until the swelling and coloration recedes. God knows you never take any time off. They can manage a few days without you.”
Von wasn’t an advocate of lying, but in this case she’d make an exception. “Thank you,” she told her cousin in a soft voice. With Marketta’s story, she wouldn’t even need a doctor’s note.
“Yeah, that’s what family’s for. We cover each other. Speaking of family, I’d better call Moose and tell him never mind, but Von...”
Marketta waited until she was looking at her before continuing, “That bastard touches you again and we’ll fucking bury him.” With that promise, she walked out of the bedroom.
Von sighed, readjusted the icepack to a more comfortable position, and closed her eyes. Marketta was dead serious and Von knew it. Unfortunately, Von’s mother with her drug habit and whorish ways wasn’t an abnormality in her family. They had family members on both sides of the law, but the younger males, unfortunately, tended toward the criminal mindset: drug dealers, pimps, gang bangers, to name a few. Even the straight ones didn’t mind crossing over for the right reason, and messing with a family member was considered justification enough.
Derrick knew about her momma and Marketta, of course, but she’d never really spoken about or introduced him to the rest of her family. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of them. She just knew after his reaction to her momma and cousin that Derrick wouldn’t understand. His home life was so different from hers. She was ‘hood—public housing, welfare, and weekly crab boils with the family—and Derrick was Amen, only his father was Clifton Davis, the pastor, instead of Sherman Helmsly, the deacon.
Her family knew she was involved with “that preacher’s son” and that she’d “found religion.” As long as she didn’t try to convert them, they were cool with it. Derrick had no idea of the hell he’d unleash if what happened to her became known.