tagInterracial LoveDamn Dress: A Love Story Ch. 06

Damn Dress: A Love Story Ch. 06


This had been one miserable fucking day. Terry sat there in his apartment thinking about how he had just thrown away so many years of his life on trying to ruin Brandon's. Even though he was out on bail, he had no clue how he was going to talk his way out of this one.

Officer Silas had picked him up and questioned him, and all because that bitch April had turned on him. He should have known better than to trust her drunk ass. And now Brandon was out of holding and Sienna was probably going to cry to him about their little escapade. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. He knew it was just a matter of time before BT came and kicked his ass.

But maybe he could talk to him. Say that Sienna had come on to him? Or just deny the whole thing.

His only saving grace was that Sienna had yet to talk to the police, so they couldn't hold him on rape charges without her accusation.

His phone started ringing. He was sure it was Darren or Alice. Between the two of them, they had both left about ten messages. Darren had been asking what happened and why SP had picked him up, and Alice was asking if he had left her for another woman. She was so fucking insecure.

Fuck, it was Darren on his caller ID. No doubt he knew about the situation with Sienna. He really didn't feel like dealing with this shit right now. He clicked ignore and went back to eating a bowl of cereal.

But then Darren called again. What the fuck did he want?

When Darren called for the third time in a row, Terry decided to just answer.

"What?" he asked, with a mouthful of cereal.

"Thank God I got you!" Darren yelled into his ear.

"Christ, man, bring it down a notch," Terry said, moving the phone further from his ear.

Terry could hear car horns and faint crying in the background.

"Listen!! You have to get out of your apartment right now!!!" Darren screamed back into the phone.

"Yeah, okay. I'll get right to that, chief," Terry retorted sarcastically, about to hang up.

"Listen!!! BT is on his way to your apartment now! He knows everything and he has a gun!!"

That sent an instant chill down Terry's spine. He almost choked on his food.



'Goddamn it, GODdamn it, GODDAMN IT!!!!!' Brandon shouted inside his head over and over again.

He was flying down the street, swerving in and out of different lanes. He knew he had driven straight through a few red lights, but truthfully, this whole drive would be nothing more than a blur. Adrenaline and anger were coursing through every inch of his body. He could feel it in his scalp, his fingers, his toes...everywhere.

"Aaaahhh!! Motherfuucckkerr!! Brandon screamed out loud while he shook the steering wheel.

He tried to burn out of his mind the mental image of his baby screaming and crying while that asshole held her down and tried to force her to...

Fuck, he couldn't think about it. He was going to lose it. For real.

And this was it. He realized then, he was going to prison for murder. No. Torture then murder. Because when he found him, he was going to stomp that motherfucker within an inch of his life and when death was creeping upon Terry, he'd empty an entire clip into his fucking skull. No. He'd empty half into his groin and the other half into his skull.

If his lips and teeth weren't pressed so tightly together, he would have chuckled to himself. His uncle Harold always told him he would go to prison. "You worthless little son of a bitch. You'll just end up in prison one day anyway, being someone's bitch!" he would say as he smacked Brandon around.

And he was right. At least about him ending up in prison. There was no way this was unavoidable. He was going to kill Terry, and then call the police. Much like he had done when he thought he'd killed his uncle years ago with a baseball bat.

His mind raced back to the task at hand. What was Terry's fucking address? 246? Or 426 London Ave? Didn't matter, he'd beat down both doors if he had to.

He pulled up to the 246 and saw Terry's car. He took a deep breath and got out. He walked quietly up the stairs to his door. He was about to kick that shit in, when Terry opened the door.

Terry had been scrambling around his apartment grabbing his wallet and keys. He had just hung up with Darren and he couldn't believe it. Brandon was going to try to kill him? Fuck!

Just as soon as he had grabbed everything, he flung open the door and came face to face with him! The expression on Brandon's face was murderous.

Brandon was startled for about two seconds, but then his mind snapped back and he tucked the gun behind his back and into his pants, then swung his fist full force into Terry's face.

Terry went flying backwards and landed on his glass coffee table which shattered under his weight. He didn't have a second to recover before Brandon was on him again.

"Wait, wait BT! I can expl--," was all Terry managed to huff out, before Brandon swung at his face again, smashing it.

Terry felt his nose break with that punch. The stinging ache went coursing through his nose, up to his eyes, which caused them to immediately start watering.

Brandon picked him up by the shirt and slammed him into the closest wall and quickly punched him twice in the stomach. When Terry bent over, Brandon's knee came up with full force and struck his face. He felt himself fly backwards and hit the wall again. He couldn't tell which way was up. He couldn't tell if it was tears or blood stinging his eyes at this point.

Brandon watched as Terry slid down the wall. The sight of blood gushing from various cuts in his face only fueled Brandon's fire. This motherfucker was going to pay, and then breathe his last breath.

Brandon delivered several kicks to his stomach, causing Terry to scream in agony. Terry tried to defend himself, so in between kicks, he managed to sweep his foot out and kick Brandon's legs out from under him.

Brandon slammed into the floor on his back. Terry took that opportunity to roll over. He couldn't breathe. He figured some of his ribs were cracked, along with his nose, and maybe a few broken fingers. Possibly an arm?

It was so painful, but Terry managed to get to his knees and was about to crawl to his bedroom when he heard the click behind his head. He immediately turned cold.

Brandon was breathing hard. It was taking everything in him at that moment not to pull the trigger.

"BT, uh, I'm sorry man. I'm so fucking sorry. Just let me explain." Terry choked out.

Brandon didn't give two shits about his lame ass explanation. This bastard wasn't going to live too much longer.

"Brandon, lower your weapon. Now!"

Brandon knew who that voice belonged to. Commander Branson. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw that the Commander was holding a gun too. He had it pointed at Terry, but Brandon knew in an instant it could be pointed at him if he shot Terry.

But Brandon wasn't ready to let this motherfucker go. He felt he couldn't be happy until he saw a hole in the back of this asshole's head with his brains splattered on the floor.

"Brandon, don't fuck up all the hard work you've done because of him. It's not worth it, and you know it."

"Do you know what he did?" Brandon spat back at him, while he still held the gun pointed at the back of Terry's head.

"It doesn't matter what he did, Brandon. Lower your weapon, son, please," Jackson said.

"Go on, motherfucker. Tell the Commander what you did," he said with a swift kick to Terry's side, causing him to scream in pain.

"Brandon, stop it!" Jackson warned again.

"Tell him, you piece of shit, or they'll be cleaning chunks of pink bloody brains off this fucking carpet!" Brandon hollered at him, shoving the gun further into the back of Terry's head.

Terry was scared. It was bad enough Brandon knew, but now he'd have to tell the Commander.

"Sir, I uh, Jesus fucking Christ, oh God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry sir."

The Commander didn't know what was going on, but he trusted Darren. He had told him to get to Terry's apartment as soon as he could because Brandon was going to kill Terry. He immediately hopped into his car. Luckily, Terry didn't live too far from him, so he made it there in record time. He saw Brandon's Jeep parked out front, and at first he thought he was too late.

"Tell him, Goddamn it!!" Brandon snapped.

"Okay, um, I uh, sir, please forgive me, I'm so sorry. I got carried away the other day when I was with Sienna," Terry forced out, even though his lungs felt bruised. It was hard for him to breathe, think and talk through the blood in his mouth.

Jackson immediately tensed. He wasn't expecting this to be about Sienna, but he should have known for Brandon to be this pissed off.

Brandon wanted to pull the trigger right then and there when that fucker mentioned her name. He had no right ever saying her name again.

But the Commander knew how to control his emotions, unlike Brandon.

"Brandon, hand me your weapon. Now. That's a direct order," Jackson said.

"But don't you want to hear what this asshole has to say?"

"Yes, and I'm sure it's going to make me angry, but I'm afraid if you hear it again, you'll lose it, and I want to be holding your gun when you do."

Brandon closed his eyes and thought about Sienna. He knew she would be so mad at him for this. So he tried to summon the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost to unwrap his hand from the gun and pass it to the Commander. Somehow he was able to slowly back away from Terry and hand the Commander his weapon.

Jackson quickly stuck Brandon's gun behind his back, and kept his aimed at Terry's head.

"Now what exactly did you do, Terry?" Jackson asked, his own blood going hot.

Terry was just relieved that Brandon no longer had a weapon. He relaxed a little, but not much, because he knew standing right behind him was Sienna's father and crazy boyfriend. Shit.

"I, uh, I tried to, um, I tried to force her to have sex with me," Terry spit out as quickly as he could, wincing in pain.

Jackson had to close his eyes. He didn't want to lose it either. Over the years, he had killed several men. Hopefully all bad men, he would tell himself. But these men never did anything directly to him. They had been tyrants, warlords and the scum of the earth, but they had never harmed anyone he loved.

Now he was staring at the back of Terry's head. A man who DID harm someone he loved. Someone he would gladly give his life for. His baby. And he couldn't fucking end him right then. Where's the justice in that?

"Sir?" he heard someone say behind him.

It was Darren. Darren, the angel of mercy, because Jackson had seriously considered pulling the trigger also.

"Yes, is Silas here?" Jackson asked, with the gun still aimed at Terry.

"Yes sir, and so are the police. They are coming up now."

Jackson lowered his weapon and blew. It was over. And luckily Terry was still alive somehow. Badly beaten, but still alive.


Darren had given his statement to the police along with Sienna, and they were allowed to leave. The police held Brandon and Commander Branson a little longer for further questioning. Neither one of them talked to each other, but they did back up the other's story.

Darren decided to take Sienna to Brandon's house, even though she preferred to wait on Brandon. But due to Darren's persuasion and the fact that she didn't feel well, she eventually caved in.

When they pulled into the driveway, Darren glanced over at Sienna. She was still a ball of nerves and tears. Poor kid. He followed her inside and turned on all of the lights. Sienna sat on the couch and started crying again.

Darren thought it best to let her have her cry, so he quietly walked out.

When Brandon finally pulled up to his house, he noticed all the lights were on. Truthfully, he had hoped that Darren had taken her to her house. He couldn't deal with her right now. He was still so wound up. And now that the police had Terry again, his mind drifted to Sienna. She had lied to him.

He got out of the Jeep and walked to his door. When he opened it, he saw that she was balled up on his couch again, asleep.

He gently placed his keys on the TV and removed his shirt. His apartment was still burning up, but with everything that had happened, fixing his airconditioning was the last thing on his mind.

He walked to his bedroom and changed into some comfortable athletic pants. He had so much negative tension he had to get rid of. He pulled out his weight lifting bench, laid on his back and started doing reps.

He knew with the amount of weight he had on the bars, he should have a spotter, but he just wanted to tire himself out so he couldn't move and his brain couldn't function. He wanted to stop thinking about everything from earlier today.

"Do you need any help?" he heard her tiny voice ask him.

He placed the weights back on the lift and glanced at her. Her caramel face was void of any makeup and her cute round nose was a reddish tint. Her raven hair hung a little past her shoulders with some strands she had tucked behind her right ear. And he noticed that even though she had just awakened, her skin was glowing and she was ten times prettier than any woman he had ever seen.

He raised up and wiped the sweat off his face and arms with a towel. He couldn't let that distract him. He was still too pissed to speak, so he chose to ignore her.

Sienna waiting patiently by the door. She hadn't heard him come in, but she heard the sound of his metal weights clanking back and forth along with his grunts. She noticed his knuckles were bruised and cut up. She immediately went to kneel beside him to inspect his hands but he jerked back from her.

"Sienna, I can't do this right now, okay," he said as he walked around her and out of his bedroom.

Sienna stood up and thought for a moment that she should give him some time. He was probably still really pissed with Terry.

She went back to the front of the house and watched as he poured himself a glass of water and drank. She watched as his throat flexed up and down taking in the water. She stood staring, jealous of the cool liquid. And she loved it when he walked around without a shirt. His pants hung really low on his body, accenting every perfect outline of his toned, tall body. God, was there anything about this man that wasn't sexy?

She continued to watch in silence as he poured ice into a plastic bag and held it on his right hand. He walked around her again and headed straight for the couch and turned on the TV.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked.

He turned and glared at her and then back to the TV. She knew she should probably wait, but she hated him being mad at her. She wanted to talk about this now. What had she done?

"So, you're just going to ignore me?" she asked, walking closer to him. He still wouldn't answer her. She knew she was pushing her luck, but she didn't care. She walked over to the TV and stood in front of it with her arms crossed.


Brandon leaned his head back and started counting down. He didn't want to do this right now. She always had to push his fucking buttons.

He leaned back up and stared at her.

"Why did you lie to me?" he asked.

"I didn't lie to you."

"Your wrists?"

Shit. Sienna had forgotten about that. She had just wanted to omit things, not flat out lie to him. He hated liars, and now she was one.

"I'm sorry Brandon, I just didn't want things to get out of control. Like today. I know how you can get some times."

Brandon continued to stare at her.

"But you told Darren," he accused.

"I knew he could help me," Sienna said, and as soon as those words left her mouth, she regretted it. The look he gave her, made her feel so guilty.

Brandon shook his head slowly. "I see. He can help you with all of your problems," he said while getting up from the couch. He moved the ice bag to his other hand and walked to the kitchen.

"No BT, that's not what I meant. I meant--"

He slammed the icebag down in the sink with a loud clank.

"You lied to me and went behind my back!! So what the fuck exactly DID you mean?!" he yelled at her.

"I was trying to avoid this!" Sienna screamed back at him.

"I didn't want you in trouble Brandon," she continued in a softer tone. "I love you so much, and I did ALL of this to keep you out of SP holding and to avoid you going to jail," she said lowering her voice.

Brandon was breathing hard. He knew she had a point, but he didn't want to see it right now.

Sienna was nervous, but she took her chances. She walked over to him and put her arms around his waist.

"I'm so sorry I lied to you. But I did it because I thought I could help. God, I just love you and I don't want anything happening to you. But your temper, BT, it just gets out of hand sometimes and I don't want you getting hurt...or hurting someone else."

Damn. Brandon knew she was right. If he were a more level-headed person, she could have come to him, and he would have acted calmly and probably told the police. But nooooo...he had to lose his fucking mind. He wondered if this temper thing was genetic, or if he had developed it while living with his aunt and uncle...like a defense mechanism or something.

Sienna looked up into his eyes. She could feel that his breathing had mellowed out and he was thinking about something. She hoped that the storm had passed.

"And BT, you aren't the easiest person to confront, you know," she said with a smile, while delivering a small kiss to his chest and running her finger over one of his four tattoos. "You intimidate everyone you meet."

"Not everyone," he whispered, while finally meeting her gaze. "Your dad has never been intimidated by me. Probably why I respected him most of all."

Bringing her dad's name into their conversation made both of them quiet. Commander Branson hadn't turned him in. He didn't make those false accusations. Maybe they did owe him an apology.

"Can I ask you something," Sienna said, breaking the silent moment.

Brandon nodded.

"Were you really going to shoot him?"

She watched as he thought about it. His arms tensed around her just a little. He looked down at her and said, "Yes."

Sienna shivered. Her mind brought her back to the night of her birthday party when Brandon had admitted that if a guy got the wrong impression about her, he'd kill them. He looked just as serious then as he did now.

"Can we go to bed now?" Sienna asked, hugging him tighter, trying to shake off that violent thought.

Brandon kissed her forehead and then led her down the hall to his bedroom. Once inside, he pulled her shirt over her head and whispered to her, "We still need to make up for the night my ass got hauled off. Wanna get in your defensive position?"

Sienna turned back around and kissed him hard. She pushed down her shorts and panties and kicked them to the side.

"Get on the bed, on your hands and knees," he said.

Sienna quickly obeyed, feeling the fluttering in her lower half. He grabbed her by her hips and slid her to the edge of the bed. She heard him pull down his pants.

Then she remembered.


"Yes," he said while rubbing her ass. He playfully smacked both cheeks again.

"Should we use something?"

She felt his hands still on her body. After a few seconds, she turned her head around and looked at him. He caught her eyes.

"Do you want to?" he asked, and she could have sworn he sounded disappointed.

"Well, I mean, we haven't been using anything. I guess it's just the responsible thing to do, right?"

She felt his warm hands leave her skin. She looked back again, and he was walking over to his dresser. He pulled out a condom, broke the foil with his teeth, and returned to her. She watched as he slid the latex over his thick erect cock. Damn, was she jealous of that condom.

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