Where We Found Our Home by Natasha Bishop

 

Ciara

Ifeel his muscular arms on me, and I want to bite him. Not in a sexual way. I want to cause him pain so he’ll leave me the fuck alone.

“Nooo, not again. No more, Linc. My name is Ciara Jeffries. I’m twenty-eight years old. The year is 2020. We are in Austin, Texas. A cheese puff is president. See? I’m fine.”

I open my eyes to find Lincoln sipping from a “World’s Bestest Uncle” mug, eyeing me with all the amusement. “You know, to be fair, I tried to be quiet every time I came to check on you so that you wouldn’t wake up, but you really are a light sleeper. I just figured since you were up I’d have a little fun and quiz you. I came in here this time to let you know that breakfast is ready. Sasha said feel free to sleep in if you want, but the food is there.”

“Oh. Umm, yeah, I’ll come down.”

“Take your time, slugger.” He smirks.

“Slugger?”

“Ha! Yeah, you punched me in the arm when you woke up during my four a.m. check-in.” He rubs his arm, looking for sympathy, as if I could ever make a dent in that piece of steel he calls an arm.

“I did not!”

“Oh, but you did. It’s okay. It’ll heal, I’m sure.”

“Great, I was so worried.” Cue the sarcasm.

He flashes that panty-melting smile at me again. “See you soon.”

I take a moment to really appreciate the gloriousness that is Sasha’s home. I realize I was so caught up in Lincoln and Nevaeh last night that I didn’t really notice my surroundings. The guest room I stayed in is hotel level quality. It’s considerably more neutral compared to the rest of the house.

When I was a kid, my mom took me to North Carolina for a week on vacation. She never wanted me to miss out on experiences she didn’t get as a child, so she worked her ass off to give me once-in-a-lifetime moments. In North Carolina, we had an entire rental house to ourselves. It was gorgeous. The place was painted slate gray and white, but it still felt warm and inviting inside. I’d help my mom cook dinner every night, and she’d ask me about all my hopes and dreams while we ate. We’d go for walks every day, and she’d tell me stories on the balcony every night. Those days were some of the best days of my life. This room takes me back there. I can practically feel my mom’s loving embrace in this room, and that makes me grab my stuff quickly and head downstairs.

Heavenly scents pull me into the kitchen. It smells like bacon and cinnamon, and I can feel myself salivating. The kitchen is mostly gray, but every accent is a sunshine yellow that catches my eye. I wonder if Carter had any say in the decorating for the house or if Sasha just ran point. This house screams family and happiness, unlike my cold apartment. My place screams hiding in plain sight.

Sasha is buzzing around the kitchen in full-on Mom mode. Carter is pouring coffee into a mug for her—surprise, it’s yellow. Lincoln is pretending to steal bacon off of Nevaeh’s plate, but she’s not paying him any mind because her pancakes are demanding her full attention. She catches a glimpse of me standing in the entryway and waves to me. “Good Morning, Ciara!” she says, then goes right back to stuffing her face.

“Good Morning, Nevaeh. Good Morning, Sasha. Good Morning, Carter.”

“Good Morning, Jim Bob,” Lincoln mocks.

“Shut up before I sic a zombie on you.”

Lincoln smacks his hands to his chest. “You wouldn’t.”

I only offer him a smirk in return. “Everything smells delicious, Sasha.”

“Aww, thank you.”

“Who is Jim Bob?” Nevaeh asks.

“It’s from an old TV show called The Waltons, Munchkin,” Carter responds.

“Oh. Well if it’s old, why’d you say it, Linky?”

“I was teasing Ciara, that’s all, Short Stack.”

“He was trying to be funny, but it fell flat,” I tease.

Lincoln sticks his tongue out at me. This is all feeling very…domestic. I don’t like it.

“Stop being a whole man-child, Linc. Ciara, I’ve got pancakes, bacon, eggs, sausage, and fresh fruit. What would you like?”

“Oh, you’ve done enough. You don’t have to fix my plate.”

She waves me off. “Oh girl, please. This is your first time in my home, plus you have a head injury so I’m being the hostess with the mostest. But best believe next time we hang out here, you’ll be serving your damn self,” Sasha says with a smile.

“You said a bad word, Mommy.”

“I told you to stop trying to get me to start a swear jar, little girl. I’m too old to change!” Sasha protests. “What’s the rule?”

Nevaeh giggles. “Do as you say, not as you do.”

“Lord knows if we did start a swear jar, Nevaeh would be rich by now,” Carter chimes in.

God, this family is cute. It makes me miss my own family.

After breakfast, Lincoln and Nevaeh wash and dry the dishes while Carter sweeps the kitchen floor and Sasha watches over her minions with a cup of coffee in her hands. She’s got a well-oiled machine going here, and I’m not mad at it.

“Alrighty, I am off to work. Nevaeh, you’ve got a five-minute countdown to grab your stuff before this train leaves the station,” Carter says while booping Nevaeh on the nose.

“On it, Cap’n.” She takes off upstairs.

“I’ve gotta head out too. You gonna be okay?” Lincoln asks me, and I bite my bottom lip then curse myself for being so pitiful.

“I’m good.”

“You can ride with me to the coffee shop since your car is still there,” Sasha offers.

“I can’t drive yet because of my concussion, but I’ll grab an Uber from there and get my car later.”

“That works for me!” Sasha replies.

“Have a good day, family!” He turns to me. “See you around, Jim Bob.”

I roll my eyes, and I hear Lincoln’s laugh long after he shuts the door.

I’ve been avoiding Sasha’s gaze all morning. Those knowing eyes are trying to trap me, and I won’t have it.

She fakes a cough, and I brace myself. “I mean it’s the chumminess between you and my brother for me.”

“Oh my God.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I am here for it. I just was not expecting that. I can’t believe Nevaeh felt the vibes before I did. I must be losing my touch.”

“There are no vibes.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious. He swooped in and did his fireman thing after I busted my head, and we were being nice. That is all. Periodt.”

“I don’t recall asking a follow-up question. You’re offering a lot of details I didn’t ask for.”

Send help.

I roll my eyes. “So anyway, I’m going to start looking for a part-time job. I need some income coming in while I’m working on this book. Any suggestions?”

“Mhmm. I see your deflection and I could call it, but I’m gonna fold for now because it’s what you need.”

Get me out of here!“I didn’t realize I was dealing with a card shark.”

“THE card shark so be thankful for my generosity.”

“Oh, I’m incredibly grateful.” I smile.

“Good. So how do you feel about bartending?”

“I did it all throughout college, so I’m good with it.”

Without another word, Sasha makes a call. “Hey, Nina, what are you up to?”

I can make out a female voice on the other end of the line but can’t hear what she’s saying.

“Can I bring a friend over to talk about a job real quick? Yes, I’ll bring donuts. How gluttonous you trying to be today? Yeah, it’s a real question, smart-ass. A dozen it is. Be there soon. Bye.”

Sasha instructs me to follow her, and I try to piece together what the hell just happened.

Neon Nights is a bar not too far from Sasha’s coffee shop. It definitely has a college town feel to it. There are TVs lining the walls. Most of them are playing sports, but one of them is set to Bravo where Real Housewives of Dallas is currently playing, and another is set to TNT showing The Fast and the Furious. It’s the middle of the day right now, so it’s bright and quiet in here, but I can imagine the whole place being lined with bodies at the bar and the neighboring dance floor once night falls.

Nina Williams is what they call a fucking powerhouse. She’s the manager of Neon Nights and the one Sasha called before we walked over. She’s wearing a simple pair of jeans with a Poetic Justice T-shirt and Jordans, and she’s rocking the hell out of it. She commands a room, but she also puts everyone at ease. Two vendors, her bouncer, and two of her bartenders have come in since we’ve been here talking, and you can tell they trust and respect her implicitly.

“Okay, where were we? Oh yeah, so when you can start?” Nina asks.

Umm, what? Is she kidding me? “Don’t you wanna ask me more questions first? To see if I’d be a fit?”

“Oh honey, I decided to hire you the moment you walked in.”

My head jerks at that. “Really? Why?”

“You trying to talk me out of it?”

“Just trying to see if I’m signing up to work for a crazy woman is all.”

She barks a laugh. “Fair. Okay, well, one, Sasha vouched for you and I know she wouldn’t vouch for anyone who won’t stack up. Two, when you walked in, my bartender Lindsay was struggling to carry a few cases, and you immediately jumped in to help her. Three, you greeted everyone who came in here with a smile, but you also weren’t afraid to give Frank’s dumb ass shit when he flirted with you. And four, the first thing you said to me was a compliment about my shirt. I’ve seen all I needed to see. So I’ll ask again, when can you start?” She leans forward on her elbows, waiting on my response.

Well, okay then.

“Friday?”

“Perfect.” She grabs a maple bacon donut and goes to town. “You can come back any day before then to fill out your new-hire paperwork.”

“Well, shit, this is the best job interview I’ve ever had. Thank you.”

We spend a little more time shooting the shit before Sasha heads back to the shop and I grab an Uber home.

Walking into my building, I get the overwhelming sense that I’m being watched. My eyes scan every inch of the lobby, but I don’t see anyone. I jam the call button for the elevator. My eyes never stop darting around while I wait.

I once again take the elevator up to the seventh floor and walk down a flight. I wonder if anyone actually watches the cameras in the stairway. They probably think I’m crazy.

I scan my hallway one more time before rushing to my door and slamming it closed behind me and sagging against it in relief.

I just need more sleep. I didn’t get much with Lincoln slipping into my room every few hours. He hasn’t found me. I’m here, I’m alive, I’m okay.

I flick both the locks on my door, move my end table so it blocks the door a bit, grab the chef’s knife, and check all the rooms before settling on the couch to do the breathing exercises Dr. Goodwin taught me.

I want to sleep, but I know if I wait any longer to make this call, the girls will flame my ass.

I start the video chat and wait for Brittany, Simone, and Sarah to hop on.

All of their jaws are on the floor when I finish filling them in on the last twenty-four hours.

“Umm, I’ll go first. Why the hell didn’t you call us sooner?” Sarah shrieks.

“I mean, what would you have done? Hopped on a plane?”

“Yes!” they all scream in unison. I sigh. I don’t know why I said it. I know they wouldn’t hesitate to hop on a plane for me. They’re my ride or die girls. Each one of us would go to the ends of the Earth for each other. It’s why I left home. I recognize that I’m not giving them the chance to do something I wouldn’t hesitate to do for them, but I just can’t. I can’t be the reason they end up in danger.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry, okay?”

“It’s absolutely not okay. Did you tell Ms. Angela about this?” Simone asks, folding her arms across her chest.

“No, I did not tell my mother, and I don’t need to. I’m a grown-ass woman.”

“Ha! Okay. Well, I think I’ll fill her in then. Since you’re a grown-ass woman and all, it shouldn’t matter if she knows.” I’ve left sweet little Brittany alone with Simone and Sarah too long. They’re corrupting her.

I fold my arms in defiance. Brittany picks up her phone and starts typing a text. Simone and Sarah wait anxiously.

“Okay, you’re not actually gonna tell her, are you? Please don’t. You know she’ll be on my ass!” I relent.

“This bitch,” Simone cackles.

We all burst into laughter. I may be a grown-ass woman, but I know better than to play games with my mom. Mama ain’t raise no fool.

“Well, don’t keep secrets from us then.” Sarah pokes her tongue out.

Oh, if you only knew.

“Alright, so let’s address the other part of this story.” Simone licks her lips, and I know what’s coming. “Is this Lincoln sexy? That name is sexy. Let’s get some more Lincoln details.”

“I don’t wanna talk about Lincoln.” I absolutely do want to talk about Lincoln. The man has me dickmatized and I haven’t even seen the dick.

“Oh shit, he must be sexy,” Sarah chimes in.

Irritatingly so. He’s like a sexy combination of both Lawrence and Daniel from Insecure, but I know if I tell them that they’ll never leave me alone about it. I refrain from biting my lip at the thought of him.

“There’s nothing to tell. Yes, he’s good-looking. But nothing is going to happen.”

Simone looks as though I’ve slapped her. “And why not?”

“Because I told you—I’m not dating right now.”

And now she looks like she’s ready to slap me. “There you go again thinking I’m telling you to date someone. You don’t need to date him to let him dick you down.”

“Jesus, Simone.”

“Girl, you’re damn near a virgin again. You need to use it before you lose it.”

“One, it has not been that long. Two, that’s not even possible. How the fuck would I lose it?”

“I’m dying, and it’s been four months. After two years, I’m surprised your pussy has not turned into a shriveled up desert.”

Brittany chokes on her water, and Sarah just shakes her head.

“Jesus. I can assure you it’s not a damn shriveled up desert. I’ve been a little busy being tormented these last two years.” Her eyes soften, but I know she’s not done with me.

“Yes, which is exactly why you deserve a good dicking after what you’ve been through. Look, what I know is that you need your wet-ass pussy serviced before it develops cobwebs, and a sexy fireman has literally fallen into your lap to do the job.”

“Ugh, okay, Megan. Or would you prefer Cardi?”

“Either. Both are queens. “WAP” is my anthem, and I feel no shame about that.”

Please remind me why I’ve been friends with these women for eighteen years.

I can’t breathe. Paranoia has its claws wrapped around my throat so tightly I’m gasping for air. I can’t do this. I’m safe within these four walls, so that’s where I should stay.

In that moment, frustration takes over. The nerve endings that were frayed with fear are now coated in anger. Dammit, I am not this person. I’ve allowed this man to reduce me to a shell of myself. Scared to walk out of my own mother’s house to check the mail?! I can’t let this happen. It’s three feet. I can walk three feet to the mailbox, no problem.

Do it.

Just fucking do it.

Tunnel vision takes over, and all I can see is the bright white door in front of me. My breath is labored as I reach for the door. The doorknob scorches my skin, and I nearly fall back but then I chastise myself for imagining its heat and press on.

The door is open for a single moment before I realize he’s standing before me. His breath reeks of cigarettes. His eyes are cold. Hard. Void of all emotion. I’m frozen in place, his stare dragging my soul with him down to the pits of hell.

I see the glint of a blade seconds before he plunges it into my abdomen. Hot, searing pain spreads throughout my entire body, and I fall to my knees, the force of the drop vibrating in my bones. I hold on long enough to watch his back fade into the night as he leaves me for dead on my mother’s doorstep. My last thought before my head hits the cold floor is regret that those eyes are the last thing I’ll ever see.

My eyes adjust as I’m flipped over, but it’s not my body I’m looking at. I’m now the one looking down at what should be my bloody corpse, but instead I find Lincoln. His beautiful brown eyes are cold and glazed over, and my heart constricts at the loss of their warmth. I look down, and his blood is literally on my hands. They start to tremble as my attention is forced back to his face when I hear him choking on his own blood. His eyes beg me to put him out of his misery.

I jerk awake in a cold sweat. Fuck. I’ve had this nightmare before. I’m always transported back to that day at my mom’s house, and I have to live that horror over and over again, but then it always turns into an out-of-body experience where I have to look at my own body but it’s never me. It’s always Mom, Simone, Brittany, or Sarah. This vision of Lincoln, though? Far more graphic than I’ve ever experienced before. He was literally begging me to finish him off so he wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. If I didn’t know I needed to stay far away from Lincoln before, I sure know now. But I’m so deep in with this family already, I don’t know if it’s even possible to disentangle.

Double fuck.