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Authors: Ameerah Cooper
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a harsh tone before snatching the necklace from around my neck. I had a gold cross hanging from it, which he despised.
Tears trickled from my eyelids. I had never taken that chain off. My mother gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. Instead of having a traditional sweet sixteen, I got baptized. I took the lord into my heart and the chain symbolized protection from my enemies and anything that would harm me. Momma said as long as I wore the chain, I would always be safe.
She didn’t lie; I had been through so much shit in my life but somehow, this chain saved me every time. When Black snatched it off of my neck I no longer felt safe. It seemed like the trouble didn’t start until I no longer had that chain hanging from my neck.
“Peace be upon you.” I stared back into Black’s dark green eyes as I rubbed my chainless neck. I knew those words would bite me in the ass later but I refused to be something I was not.
Black always wore black button down shirts, dress pants, and shoes. Black never rocked jeans, or sweats pants. He never wore a fitted cap or sported a hoody. He didn’t even wear basketball shorts. You would never catch Black walking around with his shirt off or in boxers.
To be forty-five he was sexy as fuck with a full set of teeth, and his salt-and-pepper hair made him look like Rick Fox. He had a long, thick pole between his legs. His green eyes made you melt whenever he looked at you. Black ate healthy and he worked out. He didn’t drink or smoke so his appearance still looked youthful. I often wondered how a man so beautiful could be so cold-hearted.
“Here you go, senorita. Would you like anything else?” Teresa said to me, breaking me out of my daze.
A sense of nervousness crept over my body when Teresa sat the food on top of the long black, ivory, and gold marble dining room table. Suddenly, I had no appetite for food. I could feel him staring at me and it was making me nervous.
“Mason, where did you get that device from?” Black asked suspiciously.
Before he could even utter another word, I spoke for him. “Umm, I bought it a few weeks ago. I am surprised you haven’t noticed it. That seems like the only thing to keep him occupied,” I lied, hoping that Mason didn’t say anything. Nothing got past Black’s eyes. He watched closely to everything we did.
Secretly, I had gone out yesterday and bought Mason a present. Ever since he was a baby we had been celebrating Christmas. I couldn’t let Black’s religious beliefs get in the way of mine.
In our household, growing up my mother was big on Christmas. Me and my three sisters would stay up late on Christmas Eve just so we could see Santa. However, we found out my mother was Santa. We didn’t even care. We respected my mother knowing that she went out of her way to let some white man take the credit. She was the one who hustled day in and day out to get us nice clothes, shoes, and gifts.
Our mother was mommy and daddy. She played both parts so well she deserved all of the credit. On Christmas day we would surprise her as well and have a party. We would get together all of her friends and family.
She’d love to cook and so did my aunts. Christmas was my favorite holiday. I loved the happy occasion and how it brought us together, even if it was to drink hot chocolate and eat big dinners. But my momma loved to party and nothing we did was traditional. We would gather around the table eating, playing cards, smoking weed, and drinking liquor. My mother was young and into the street life. She believed in having fun and bringing her family together. My mother had a big heart, so I knew she was turning in her grave that she couldn’t be here for her favorite holiday. Especially since it was my birthday. It just wasn’t fair.
Now my Christmas and birthday mornings were spent alone in my room that I
Tears trickled from my eyelids. I had never taken that chain off. My mother gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. Instead of having a traditional sweet sixteen, I got baptized. I took the lord into my heart and the chain symbolized protection from my enemies and anything that would harm me. Momma said as long as I wore the chain, I would always be safe.
She didn’t lie; I had been through so much shit in my life but somehow, this chain saved me every time. When Black snatched it off of my neck I no longer felt safe. It seemed like the trouble didn’t start until I no longer had that chain hanging from my neck.
“Peace be upon you.” I stared back into Black’s dark green eyes as I rubbed my chainless neck. I knew those words would bite me in the ass later but I refused to be something I was not.
Black always wore black button down shirts, dress pants, and shoes. Black never rocked jeans, or sweats pants. He never wore a fitted cap or sported a hoody. He didn’t even wear basketball shorts. You would never catch Black walking around with his shirt off or in boxers.
To be forty-five he was sexy as fuck with a full set of teeth, and his salt-and-pepper hair made him look like Rick Fox. He had a long, thick pole between his legs. His green eyes made you melt whenever he looked at you. Black ate healthy and he worked out. He didn’t drink or smoke so his appearance still looked youthful. I often wondered how a man so beautiful could be so cold-hearted.
“Here you go, senorita. Would you like anything else?” Teresa said to me, breaking me out of my daze.
A sense of nervousness crept over my body when Teresa sat the food on top of the long black, ivory, and gold marble dining room table. Suddenly, I had no appetite for food. I could feel him staring at me and it was making me nervous.
“Mason, where did you get that device from?” Black asked suspiciously.
Before he could even utter another word, I spoke for him. “Umm, I bought it a few weeks ago. I am surprised you haven’t noticed it. That seems like the only thing to keep him occupied,” I lied, hoping that Mason didn’t say anything. Nothing got past Black’s eyes. He watched closely to everything we did.
Secretly, I had gone out yesterday and bought Mason a present. Ever since he was a baby we had been celebrating Christmas. I couldn’t let Black’s religious beliefs get in the way of mine.
In our household, growing up my mother was big on Christmas. Me and my three sisters would stay up late on Christmas Eve just so we could see Santa. However, we found out my mother was Santa. We didn’t even care. We respected my mother knowing that she went out of her way to let some white man take the credit. She was the one who hustled day in and day out to get us nice clothes, shoes, and gifts.
Our mother was mommy and daddy. She played both parts so well she deserved all of the credit. On Christmas day we would surprise her as well and have a party. We would get together all of her friends and family.
She’d love to cook and so did my aunts. Christmas was my favorite holiday. I loved the happy occasion and how it brought us together, even if it was to drink hot chocolate and eat big dinners. But my momma loved to party and nothing we did was traditional. We would gather around the table eating, playing cards, smoking weed, and drinking liquor. My mother was young and into the street life. She believed in having fun and bringing her family together. My mother had a big heart, so I knew she was turning in her grave that she couldn’t be here for her favorite holiday. Especially since it was my birthday. It just wasn’t fair.
Now my Christmas and birthday mornings were spent alone in my room that I
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