Hunt For Her: Black & White by Xyla Turner

Chapter Seven

Kizzy

Something waswrong with him and he wasn’t talking. I still have no idea what he was talking to Professor Cullen about. But something in me, didn’t feel okay about letting him be alone. Shit, as someone who has needed people throughout my troublesome childhood. I know that look anywhere. It’s the one that says, I’m on the fucking edge and need help, but I don’t even know I need to ask. Whatever that help may be. Fuck, it could have just been a pussy drive by, but it seemed like more than that.

A lot more, I feared.

That was confirmed, as I sat up in the bed and saw that not only was Hunt still in the bed, looking like a peaceful hellion. He didn’t even stir when I got out of the bed. I swear, this better not be that he needed a place to sleep tonight. The man seemed like he was on the edge and not a good one.

I decided to make some breakfast. I’m sure he’d be hungry when he got up. I was famished, after he put that good shit on me last night. I mean, my pussy was still wet, even thinking about it. I had half a mind to go in there and jump on that dick again. Ride his ass home, and not to his house, okay!

Shiiitt.

Damn, I guess he was saving the good shit for later. Last night was the FIRST NIGHT, he ever ate me out. I mean, made me cum in less than a few minutes. Last I checked that has NEVER happened. Not with him or any man for that matter. If he was giving it up like that, maybe I could.

Nope.

By the time I finished cooking breakfast, on the table were pancakes, cheese eggs, bacon, grits and coffee. Hell, I rarely cooked like that anymore. It was just me, so why would I? When I did do it before, it was for my mom, so when she woke up from her stupor, she would have good food, after she puked, the grogginess wore off and when she would come back to normal enough to eat and then start drinking again. She always seemed to appreciate those meals, but they never stopped her from drinking, so I stopped cooking around the time Willard came into the picture.

I don’t know if it was the bacon or the coffee that woke up Hunt, but I heard movement in the bedroom, then the water running. Soon, I felt his presence in the kitchen, where I turned with a smile. Only to be met with bewilderment. Shit.

“What’s wrong?” I asked in a panic.

I thought he’d be better this morning. After a good fuck, I always feel better. It doesn’t take the bullshit away, but it does seem to make it bearable.

“You made this for us?” He asked, without answering my question.

“Yeah,” I said as I looked around the table.

Hunt looked tortured for some odd reason. I wanted to move towards him to soothe whatever what troubling him, but then I stopped, because he looked like he was in a space almost too hot to touch. It wasn’t until he opened his mouth, that I realized that it was way too damn hot to touch.

“I ain’t never had no one cook me breakfast,” he said to me, but I swear it wasn’t intended for my ears.

Hunt’s comment took me back to my earlier years when I was at least five and Mom would cook me breakfast. Hell, we even ate at the table together. By the time I turned seven or eight, all of that stopped. There were no breakfasts, lunches, or dinners. I had to figure that shit out, with the help of a neighbor or teacher. I might catch her in a rare sober moment, and she’d want to go out to eat or something, not cook. So, I knew what Hunt meant. We were just from different sides of the tracks, but same fucked up shit.

“Well,” I managed a smile. “I have pancakes, grits, bacon, and cheese eggs. Hopefully, you like them.”

I stopped talking because he started moving towards me like he had a purpose. I wasn’t scared, but I also didn’t know why he was so intense at that moment.

But just like last night, his lips came crashing down on mine and kaboom, we were going at it in the kitchen. This time, Hunt was not playing with my ass.

He had one of my legs propped up around him, my long tee with no panties were just in time, as he lowered those boxers and entered me with a quick and practiced art. With my butt propped on the counter, the man fucked me senseless as he bit me on my lips, chin, neck and ear. Between the four places, he ravished me in every way possible.

Good holy fuck.

He felt so damn good, yet so damn rough. I loved every minute.

When he finally came, I fell back, but he propped me back up against him.

“Now, we can eat,” he said in my ear. “The food smells delicious, but it definitely ain’t better than this pussy.”

I was barely okay to respond, but after a few minutes, Hunt dislodged from me and then I could feel his cum running down my leg.

Shit, we didn’t use a condom. I think we both realized it at the same time.

“Fuck,” I mumbled. “Are you clean?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He looked at me with sincere eyes. “I’m good. Are you?”

“Yeah,” I told him, because I had to get my physical and vaccinations to enroll in school, I did my yearly pap-smear and STD test.

“You on the pill or get the shot,” he asked.

There was no judgment or anything, which I thought was different, but I nodded and said, “I get the shot, every three months. I’m good.”

“Okay, then we’re good. Got carried away.” He said, then he grabbed some tissues from the counter and instead of giving them to me, he lifted my leg up and began to wipe me dry.

Hmm.

That was different. It was really sweet and unlike Hunt.

“Sorry,” he said again, as he threw the tissues away. “By the way, I ain’t fucking nobody.”

I nodded and began to heat the food back up because I didn’t want to touch that with a ten-foot pole. We never talked about others.

Ever.

It was one of the boundaries we set. Actually, I brought it up when we first hooked up and he was in full agreement.

Now, this.

We sat down, ate, and we didn’t talk much, as Hunt apparently was savoring every bite. I knew it was good, because I’d mastered the art of cooking breakfast, but it wasn’t that damn good.

“This is fucking good,” he kept mumbling. “And I ain’t even a coffee drinker.”

I just smiled and kept eating.

“What are your plans for the day?” He asked.

Okay, this was getting weird.

“Uh, Hunt. I’m not sure what’s going on. You still haven’t told me why you insisted on coming over here last night. You’re talking about who you aren’t fucking and now asking me about my plans. Is there something you want to fill me in on?”

With that, I removed my napkin and put it on my plate. Hunt did the same and gave me that intense look again like he did earlier.

“Kizzy, I ain’t fucking nobody and haven’t for a while beside you. I came over last night because I missed you and needed to see you. You got little marks all over your body because I don’t plan to fuck nobody but you, which means I don’t want you fucking nobody else. I’m asking what you are doing, because I want to spend some more time fucking you.”

Where the extra saliva came from in my mouth, I did not know, but at that juncture, is when I started choking. All while trying to ask, “What?”

Hunt did not repeat himself but stared at me and waited until the choking fit was done.

“What?” I managed to say as I took a deep gulp.

“You heard me right,” He still did not repeat himself.

This has me on my feet.

“Hunt, we cannot do this. You’re well, you’re Hunt and I am not interested in anything serious or anything else right now. Plus, there is the obvious, right?”

“What’s the obvious?” he asked as I looked on in confusion.

“Uh, you are in a white supremacist group!” I looked at him with a tilted head. “Like, you literally think your race is superior to mine, more particular. So, that’s the obvious.”

This had him standing up. Then he pointed to the front door and kept jabbing his finger while saying, “Last night, none of that was the case. Just now, none of that was the case. You have to feel that thing, Kizzy, when you and I come together. It’s fucking crazy and I can’t explain it, but I ain’t never felt it with nobody and I ain’t letting that go. That means, I ain’t letting you go. So, you can do this the easy or the hard way, sweetheart, but either way, you and I will happen.”

This caused me to laugh.

“So, what you think we’re just going to be together as you do your Klan rallies. Come on Hunt, you know how that shit works and so do I.” I whirled on him, as I felt like he was insulting my intelligence.

“Do you feel, or do you not feel this thing between us?” He asked in response.

This was a trick question, I felt. It didn’t matter what the situation was, the facts remained.

“Yes, I feel it,” I told him.

“Then fuck all that other shit. We feel it and we can build upon it.” He seemed adamant about the concept.

“There is no fuck that other shit, Hunt. You are a whole gotdamn racist. Are you saying that you’re not? Cause, I’m a whole black woman. I can’t fuck that away. I’ll always be a black woman before I’m anything else. Including someone that is willing to be with a racist. I mean unless you are saying something different.”

“What do you mean to say something different, Kizzy. I’m over here with you. Investing into you. Into us. If this ain’t saying something, I don’t know what is.”

Urrrrr…

“Then you really don’t know your fucking history, HUNT!” I grew indignant by the minute. “For your information. The slave owners would come out and fuck the little young nigger women when they felt good and ready. They’d impregnate them, give the baby away or keep it, but they kept fucking the women. Some thought they were special because the master preferred them. Some thought they were different because he kept coming back. I ain’t the virtuous or smartest woman in the bunch, but what I ain’t – is stupid. You coming across town to fuck me don’t mean a gotdamn thing. Or investing your time, as you put it. What the fuck am I supposed to think, you really want me, while you burn crosses in the street, yelling white lives matter first and I’m supposed to shout, ‘that’s my man.’ Hating the very race, I belong to. Naw, Hunt. That don’t work for me.” I was shaking my head. “I reject that proposal.”

Then I turned and went into my room, and then the bathroom, where I locked the door. He could see his way out of my house. Who the fuck did he think he was dealing with? Boo boo, the fool. I was not. I ain’t always made the right decision, but I was not a moron. Idiot was not written on my forehead. He came and knocked on the door, tried to get me to come out, but after fifteen minutes, I heard him packing up his shit to leave.

When I knew the coast was clear, I came out, locked my door, and prayed that he was gone. I didn’t even look out the window, just started searching my social media and came across some interracial couples. Particularly black women with white men. Then I found out there was a group that provided support. Why the hell I joined it, I couldn’t answer. However, I thought a post in the group was serendipity when one lady posted a question asking, “I think my man is a racist. What should I do?”

Holy shit.

How is that even possible? That this post found me on this day. I clicked on the link to find many comments to this lady. Some said, ‘sis, he ain’t the one. Another read, maybe you being in his life will be a change to his heart. Others defined a racist. Then others gave her practical steps and even suggested therapy and counseling.

After falling into the vortex of the group, I exited as I berated myself for even thinking about such. Like, what the fuck was wrong with me? I knew better. It wasn’t like he was a regular white guy with conservative views. Nope, he was in a whole group and from what I could tell, leading it. I hadn’t had the best luck in relationships. Actually, I didn’t have any, just fuck buddies and I kept the shit moving and so did they. Hell, Hunt was a part of the group, who had dried up when I moved. Now he wanted there to be more. The man had a lot of fucking nerve, though. There were marks all over my skin from him. I tried not to get aroused at our rough and sexy times, but pissed that his ass actually was marking me. I never allowed men to do that, but I was too caught up in him. We couldn’t do that again. Off limits. As a matter of fact, I needed to be off-limits to him period.

No more Saturday meetings. Hunt had been doing much better in classes, so we could stop that shit.

Later that day Hunt called a few times, but I didn’t answer. Then he texted:

Hunt:Can you get over being mad that I want a relationship with you and talk to me already?

I didn’t reply. Not just for the sake of ignoring him, but I honest to God didn’t know what to say. I mean, I had nothing.

He kept the calling and texting going until it was time for class.

On my way to African American Studies, I heard my name being called from afar. Kizzy is not a name I hear often. Plus, it wasn’t a man’s voice who I was used to hearing, but female.

Turning my head, I jerked around to see who that familiar voice was. Oh my.

Well, damn.

“Sade and Chelle,” I exclaimed as I took in the two women nearly sprinting towards me. “What are y’all doing here?”

They ran and gave me a hug and we embraced as we looked around at old high-school friends. Chelle and Sade always hung out together in high school. We had some classes together even cut together, but damn. I was glad to see some familiar faces.

“Wow, y’all look good!” I exclaimed.

“Girl, you look good. Shit.” Chelle eyed me up a down, very visibly.

“Yes. Damn. You do.” Sade agreed, which took me back.

The last time I’ve seen any of them, was over a decade ago and I was a skinny thing. Not in a sexy way, but more of a malnutrition way. Shit, I was. It wasn’t a good time, but I was barely making ends meet.

“Yeah, I’m doing better. Shit, a lot better.” I laughed.

“We see,” the two of them basically said in unison. Then they looked at each other and said, “Jinks!”

Then we all began to laugh, causing a bunch of people to look at us, which made us laugh more.

“What are you doing here?” Sade asked. “We’ve never seen you.”

“I just started this semester,” I told them. “Had to make some changes. Dealing with the same shit everyday was getting old.”

Sade and Chelle looked at each other with knowing glances and shook their head.

“Yeah, we know all about it,” Chelle agreed. “It’s like, why the fuck do we keep dealing with the same sort of shit? Stupid ass men. Dead end jobs with bosses who get off on making your life a living hell. Paying you shit for wages. Like, what the fuck?”

“Girl, her boss was one for the ages. I mean, a racist son-of-a-bitch. Surly too.” Sade added. “His daddy done gave him a job, while he is galivanting around the country, doing only God knows what. I keep telling her to quit. But we did one better. Start school and start our own companies.”

“Shit, I know that’s right.” I smiled at Chelle. “Who needs that?”

“What class do you have right now?” Sade asked. “We just got out of Econ.”

“Oh fuck,” I nearly jumped out of my seat. “I’m late. I have a African American Studies. Give me your numbers, so we can catch up or study or something. I don’t know nobody here, besides my classmates. Some are cool.”

“Yeah, girl. We must.” Chelle said as she wrote her number down on the back of a card.

“That sounds like a plan,” Sade added. “It’s so good to see you. I just love that you’re doing well. We must catch up.”

She gave me her number, I hugged them both and ran off, late, to my class. I was never late. Like, ever.

As soon as I opened the door to the lecture hall, several eyes turned to view me and none of them were the professors. But one was Hunt, who was sitting in our typical seat down at the front.

However, this time, I sat in the back. Mainly, so I wasn’t causing a scene, but also, because I didn’t want to sit next to him. He stared at me for awhile, but remained where he was.

When class was over, I immediately left and cut into the library. If I knew Hunt like I did, he was coming for me, so I had to actively hide. Now the stupid thing was that his ass had my address.

Stupid Kizzy.

Stupid.

Sigh.

Anyway, that didn’t mean I had to open the door. Plus, it was a duplex and a big man, my landlord, Tyrell, with a big gun lived downstairs. He was hot as hell. In a brooding sort of way, but he was handsome older guy. Maybe late thirties or forties. All I knew was that he kept a rifle propped up next to the door, so if Hunt tried some shit, I had no doubt Tyrell would get him on his way.

By the time I made it home, the coast was clear and thank God for that. I was in the mood for something hearty so I made lasagna, since I had all of the ingredients. That would last me for the week. Well, as I thought about Sade and Chelle, I texted them both about coming over this weekend. I’d cook. They immediately said yes and that made me feel good. I ain’t really had no friends outside of Tiff, who I kind of distanced myself from. They were cool in high school, but I lost touch when we left, since we were bussed in from around the county. It wasn’t like we lived in the same neighborhood or even had cell phones at the time. We might have been social media friends, but that was it.

Wow, life was really opening for me in more ways than one. School, reconnecting with old friends and a new, beautiful place to live. This is some of the changes I needed to make.

With that feeling of bliss, I turned on some music and danced around while making the lasagna. It was delicious and I was happy to share some of it when they came over on Friday night.

Sade said she’d bring the wine and Chelle said we could watch a movie she just purchased on Apple. Therefore, it could not come fast enough.

Learning from my last class mishap, I arrived late and sat in the back again. Hunt was there in our designated seats, but this time, he packed up his shit and relocated to sit next to me.

Dammit.

“You’re avoiding me,” he whispered. “We need to fucking talk. Today!”

I didn’t answer him or acknowledge his presence as I tried to focus on the class. He didn’t bother me anymore during class, but when it was over, when I tried to get up, he clamped down on my arm, keeping me in my seat.

“Kizzy, how do you want to play this sweetheart?” He raised an eyebrow. “We need to talk today!”

“I have nothing to say, Hunt,” I shrugged my shoulders and looked where his hand was on my arm. “Do you mind?”

He removed his hand, but got into my face.

“I got shit to say,” he hissed. “You’re going to hear it and stop playing around with me. I got feelings, Kizzy. I ain’t trying to fuck you over or nothing like that. What do you think because I might have beliefs that are different from yours, that I ain’t a person with feelings? That I can’t have feelings for you?”

“No,” I hissed back into his face. “What I think is if your beliefs…LITERALLY…downgrade the essence of who I am, then your feelings do not matter. Because you clearly don’t care about mine.”

“That is where you are WRONG!” he growled back. “I care very deeply…”

“Is there a problem here?” Professor Cullen called to us, as he was walking up the stairs.

Hunt turned to answer him, but the professor cut him off.

“You know Hunt, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I looked up…”

That was all I got to hear because I skedaddled out of there. I heard Hunt hiss my name, but there was nothing else to say.