Sucking his teeth, Mario lowered her arms and used one to spin her around.
“Nah, it’s perfect. The guys gon’ love you in this. I’ma make a lot of money off yo’ ass tonight.”
“W-what?” she screeched. “I thought you said?—”
“Fuck what I said. I’m taking your ass straight to my hotel. I can easily get a stack from each nigga off yo’ young ass.”
For a while, all Jelai could do was stare at him in disbelief. A part of her refused to believe what she was hearing. There was no way he planned on trying to sell her. She’d heard enough horror stories from her father’s cases to be familiar enough with what Mario was trying to conjure in his mind, but her feelings for him made it hard for her to accept that truth.
“Um, I’m gonna go find my friends and go home,” she mumbled, trying to walk past him to leave the dressing room.
“Nah. I want this pussy first before I give it to anybody else.”
His grip around her was firm as he forcefully pushed her against the back wall. A clipped scream escaped her when the weight of what was finally happening settled within her.
“Mario, no. Just let me go,” she begged, trying again unsuccessfully to get past him.
Ignoring her request, he yanked her back and ripped the dress in the process. “No!” She yelled louder as he pressed the front of her body against the mirror. “Please, stop!”
Her eyes blurred with tears as he pushed the dress up and yanked her panties off.
“You been teasing me since we met. Why you actin’ like you’on want me now?” he asked against her ear, causing her to tremble.
As Mario busied himself with pulling his dick out of his jeans, Jelai fought against him. “Be still!” he roared, punching her in the back of her head.
Her sight darkened and ears rang as pain shot through her skull. The grunt she released as her head bobbed against the mirror gained someone’s attention, because the door burst opened, and Mario was pulled away from her. Jelai curled up in a ball in the corner, rocking with tears in her eyes. Dizzily, she tried to focus on what was happening. Her eyes focused on Wicked bashing Mario’s face in with his fist.
Then, everything went black.
By the time Jelai gained consciousness, her friends were hovering over her. Mario’s lifeless body lay on the carpeted floor, and Wicked was being hauled away in handcuffs. Their eyes locked, and he gave her that signature smile.
“Don’t worry,” Wicked told her. “He won’teverput his hands on you again.”
Yates “Wicked” Harris
Ten and a Half Years Later
Allowing air to invade my nostrils as a free man after ten years was almost an out-of-body experience for me. The air felt and smelled different steps beyond the gate in comparison to what I’d been feeling and smelling in the yard for the last ten years. I was often asked if I knew killing Mario would land me in prison for ten years, would I do it all over again, and my answer was always the same—yes.
For any woman, I would have done the same thing. My father developed the natural protective spirit that was already within me. But for Jelai? I would’ve done more. For Jelai, I would’vedone life if that meant saving hers. It was hard to not think about her for the last ten years, seeing as protecting her was the reason I was in here. Beyond that, I’d fallen in love with her the moment I saw her all those years ago. I remembered it just like it was yesterday.
She was a freshman, and I was a sophomore.
She was having trouble finding a class, and I walked her to it.
That became our routine.
I walked her to every one of her classes, even if it meant I’d be late for mine.
Things were going well until I walked her to Sonic after a football game and her father saw me. As soon as he recognized me, he told me to stay away from her. I started to buck and go against what he wanted, but my father respected him enough to ask me to keep my distance. As it stood, The Wilted Roses already had beef with Dylan and a few other detectives within the Rose Valley Hills Police Department. Unfortunately, they judged and blamed us for everything The Outlaws did.
What they failed to acknowledge was the fact that everyone in TWR followed a code and set of rules that kept us from doing anything illegal unless it was for the protection of one of our members or someone in our family.
There were three motorcycle clubs in Rose Valley Hills: The Wilted Roses, which was a traditional MC, The Valley Ridahs, which was a basic riding club with no rules or crazy membership processes, and The RVH Outlaws, or as we called them, the fucking hellraisers. The Outlaws were the reason motorcycle clubs had such a bad rap in the city. While they were the ones fighting and having shootouts, stealing, and straight up terrorizing the city, all MCs were blamed for their actions.
Truthfully, most traditional MC clubs, like the one I would soon be a member of, were full of good people. Usually 80 to 90 percent of the men were extremely respectful and protective andkind, especially toward women and kids. I felt like you always had a chance for a few rotten eggs to be in the mix, but it never seemed fair for an entire group of people to be judged for the actions of a few. It was a good thing I didn’t give a damn about what people thought about me.
I yielded back then and agreed to stay away from Jelai until we graduated high school. Unfortunately, by the time we both were eighteen, I was locked down. Though the judge deemed the homicide justifiable because I was defending Jelai, he said I used extreme force since I killed him with my hands. For that reason, I was sentenced to fifteen years, but I knew I’d only do ten.
