69 - Back Porch

_Zye, tell me I didn’t lose her. – Darkness_

After Rosie left the office, Darkness felt defeated and was grateful that Gator chased Santa out of the office. He sat in the now empty chair as the club president and enforcer spoke quietly. When the door closed, he looked up to see that it was only him and Gator in the small office.

Looking at his club president, Darkness made a soft plea. “Tell me how to make this right.”

Leaning against the desk, Gator crossed his arms and shook his head as he let out a deep sigh.

“Son, that’s not something that I can tell you,” He finally said. “She’s hurting because she thinks you betrayed her. She’s young.”

“I know,” he sat back and rested his head on the wall. “I tried to stay away. I swear, I really tried.”

“You’ve never lied to me,” Gator chuckled when Darkness raised an eyebrow at him. “Not on the big things. Not when it matters.” He sighed as he ran a fist down his beard. “This is why I didn’t want any of you boys getting involved with her. It’s tight quarters here. Everybody is in everybody else’s business.”

Darkness nodded. “I’m renting a little cottage.”

“I’ve heard, but I should have heard from you.”

Meeting the older man’s eyes, Darkness said what he should have said months ago. “When she goes home after graduation, I’m going with her.”

Grinning, Gator nodded, “I know. When we were all confined in Vegas, I learned a lot about your girl. She’s stronger than people believe. Stronger than what I thought.” He gave a dry chuckle. “You’re the only one that did not treat her like a little girl.”

“I never saw her as a little girl, not even when I should have.”

“Tell her how you feel, that’s important,” Gator said as he moved to the door.

Feeling odd being in the president’s office by himself, Darkness followed the other man out the door and made his way to the back porch. When she was ready, she would know where to find him. If she ever wanted to find him.

The only thing that he could do was hope that she would want to find him.

Standing at the railing, her bed swing behind him, Darkness stood at the railing of the back porch. Looking out at the darkening bayou, he could feel the spirits moving around him. They spoke to him, but once again, everything was in riddles.

He felt Zydeco’s presence long before he opened his eyes and saw his godfather. The sun was setting, and shadows were growing longer as Darkness softly whispered words that were somewhere between a question and a plea.

Zydeco placed a comforting hand on the shoulder of the boy who he had raised. It  had been years since Darkness had been a boy, but right now, he felt like a lost child looking to his father for guidance. “You’ll make it through this, _Pistache_.”

“How do you know?”

“Have you talked to your momma lately?”

“The voices have been oddly quiet or speaking in riddles lately.”

“You need to take that girl and go see Momma Dee. You were supposed to go after you got back from the desert,” Zydeco advised. “And talk to your momma.”

His footsteps carried him across the wooden porch and through the door. Darkness was left alone in the fading light and the evening silence. When he closed his eyes and focused on the voices that were almost always with him, he only heard one thing. Different words. Different phrases. Same meaning. A single riddle for him to solve.

_‘Hold to your light_.’

‘_She’s your light_.'

‘_Keep your light close_.’

“Amos?”

The uncertainty in the quiet voice broke him. Opening his eyes, he turned to Camille and pulled her into a tight embrace. Burying his face in her hair, he gave in to the tears. He whispered in Creole, pouring out his heart. She might not know the words, but certainly, she would understand the meaning of what he was telling her.

She moved in closer and slid one under his arm and cut, over his shoulder blade and clamped down on the broad shoulder that seemed to hold the weight of the world. Her other hand moved to his head and scraped her short nails across the bristly stubble on his head.

“I’m going to have to learn French.” She said, holding him to her.

“Creole.” He corrected, gently kissing her neck. “I’ll teach you.”

“I’m sorry-.”

“Don’t,” he cut her off and pulled back to look at her. “You have every right to be mad at me. You are entitled to be pissed. Just please, no matter what, don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going to leave you. I just…” she blushed and looked down. “I was jealous. I thought that… I can’t even get …” sighing she looked up with tear-filled eyes. “Do you want me?”

“Oh, my sweet little light, is that what you think? That I don’t want you?” Camille nodded slightly and he lifted her by her thighs and settled her around his waist. Darkness walked over and pushed her back into the wall and pressed his hard length against her soft core. She gasped and her eyes widened as he grinned down at her.

“You’re the only woman that makes me hard. After I met you, before you came here, any woman I was with, it was you that I thought of. It disgusted me that the only way I could get off was to think about you. You were still a child. You’re probably still too young for me. But I need you more than I need oxygen.”

“I’m not a child anymore.” She whispered.

“I know.” He leaned down and captured her mouth with his. “But you’re still off limits.”

“How?”

“Everything that we do, gets reported to your dad and the other presidents. Everything.”

“Well, fuck. I didn’t call anyone back home because… I mean, I suspected they were still getting reports.” She closed her eyes and sighed in defeat. He gently kissed the stray tear on her cheek.

“I know. I’m working on getting us some privacy.” He murmured. “I need you. Not just physically, I need you to breathe. I can’t live without you.”

“Amos…” Camille sighed as he kissed and nipped at her neck.

“Say it again.” Darkness demanded, moving along her jaw and back down the other side of her neck. She made a sound that was a mix of confusion and desire. “Say my name again.”

“Amos.” She breathed out.

He shifted his hand to slide it under her to tease her core through her pajama pants. “You’re so fucking wet; I can feel it through your clothes. I want you to come for me.”

Claiming her mouth, he used his fingertips to drive her up higher and higher to a peak. She tried to move with him but was tightly pinned between his hard body and the hard wall. The hard shaft behind the thick denim rubbed against her clit.

Short nails dug into his shoulder and neck. As her body tensed, her fingers sought purchase with his short hair and fisted the back of his cut.

Tremors racked her body, and he swallowed her cries of pleasure. Gently, he moved his hand away, never stopping his assault on her mouth. With her body still trembling, he shifted her slightly and rolled his hips, rubbing his cock against her tender clit.

He released her mouth to get control of himself. Guiding her mouth to his neck, he gave a soft command.

“Fucking bite me. Bite me hard when you come.”

Moving his hands back to her thighs, he shifted her position again so that she was riding his cock behind his zipper. He groaned as she pressed in against him as she wrapped her legs around his waist and locked her ankles.

Camille sunk her teeth into his skin and drew blood. Darkness hissed as pain coursed through him. It was enough to reign himself in. He pressed into her as her body bucked and trembled. They were both panting heavily as smaller tremors shook her body.

“If you ever doubt that I want you,” he whispered roughly against her ear as he panted, “just know that you nearly made me come in my pants like a damned teenager.”

She kissed the punctured skin before laying her head on his shoulder. “You did make me come in my pants. And I am still a damned teenager.”

Chuckling, he sat her back on her feet. “_Mwen renmen ou ti limyè mwen_.”

Leaning into his support, she laid her head on his chest. “What does that mean?”

He kissed her lightly on the temple. “I’ll let you think on it a little longer. What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“I want you to meet someone.”