Disclaimer: Own no one but the Kat character. And the idea? That’s mine too.
Distribution: FoF, MOR and WWF_DivaSlash.
Notes: I’m on a roll. Just go with it. More of Tested Love.
I know a lot about the French Revolution. There was a great cartoon show called Lady Oscar when I was about in the fifth grade. And a lot of the action centered on the French Revolution and Marie-Antoinette. It was really smart TV and a great way for us kids to learn about history without realizing it.
Anyhow, you know, the myth of Marie-Antoinette’s hair turning white after her first night in the Bastille? Well, I never really believe it. Until this morning.
When I wake up, first of all, Amy’s wrapped around me like vine on a house. I work my way out of her embrace and head to the bathroom. Morning piss. Anyhow, right after taking care of my business, I walk in front of the bathroom mirror and I see it. I had a few white hairs before but this is major. This strand of white hair right in front of my head, right where my widow’s peak is, about an inch and a half wide. I reach up to touch it and realize my hand is shaking.
This is scary.
It feels the same as the rest of my hair, except it’s white. I lean forward and examine it in the mirror. It’s white, real white, not blond or yellow or anything, but white. And it doesn’t feel brittle like as if it was bleach like if this was someone’s idea of a sick joke and… oh my God…
The tears finally come and I cry. Silently while I stare at my new white hair. I lean forward and look into my eyes. They’re red and awash with the tears leaving an ever-expanding wet spot on my tee-shirt. I am so angry. I hate those bastards for burning that cross on my front lawn. And the saddest part is, they think they did me and Amy a favor.
I’ve read up on them you know? Yep, for the Klan, what the rest of us all consider burning a cross, is actually referred to as lighting a cross. It’s to represent how Jesus Christ is the light of the world and how his light is going to dispel all that is wrong with the world and I guess it doesn’t get any wronger than the Black dyke corrupting the cute little White girl next door and drawing her into her perverted world of sex.
God, Amy… I think of her, lying in the next room, safe and my heart sinks down to my heels. What have I done to her life? You know, if it hadn’t been for me, she might have fallen for a perfectly nice White boy her parents would have been proud of introducing to the rest of the family. But instead, she’s stuck here with me, still frozen out by her family and now threatened by idiots who want to hurt her because of me.
What the hell am I going to do?
Last night really wore her out, I think as I look at Amy, still sleeping, her body wrapped around a body pillow that’s apparently taken my place. She looks so beautiful, her hair a fiery mess on the pillow and on her face. I reach out to touch her and stop myself. She’s going to need all the rest she can get and after all, it’s only six in the morning.
But me, I’m already dressed. I need to work off some of my anger before I break something. I quickly pen her a note and head outside. When I see the four burly men standing by my door, I almost go back inside to call hotel security, until I see Slaughter standing with them.
“Are you all right?” he asks me quickly, coming to me.
“I’m fine. What’s going on here?”
“These guys are here to look after you and Amy.”
“Huh?”
“The extra security? I thought Vince had talked to you about it.”
“He did. Sorry about that. Well, I’m just going to head downstairs to the hotel gym.”
“All right. Alan and Guy will join you.”
“For a workout? Come on…”
“Vince’s orders are clear. You’re to be accompanied at all times.”
“Sarge…”
“Vince’s rules, not mine. Talk to him when he’s up.”
“I will. Don’t worry about it.”
I start walking toward the elevator and one of the guys steps in front of me, putting his meaty hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t know how long you’re going to be on the job,” I tell him, jerking away from his touch, “but you don’t touch me, is that clear? Ever!”
“But Miss…”
“Do not touch me!”
“Kat,” Sarge said, “he’s gonna have to touch you.”
“No. I don’t want to be touched all right? Is that too much to ask for?”
God, I sound like a shrew. But right now, I don’t care. I just don’t want their hands on me. I don’t know these guys... it could be one of them who lit that cross on my front lawn.
“Kat...”
“I’ll let them shadow me but I don’t want them to touch me.”
Something in my tone makes Slaughter agree. He nods at me and lets me go, gorillas in tow. In the elevator, even as they keep everyone off the car, I don’t feel safe. I feel like a target. And I hate it. And I...
“Stay here,” Gorilla no. 1 says when we get to the basement where the gym is.
“What?”
Gorilla no. 2 stays in the elevator with me and closes the doors.
“I understand how frightening this must me for you,” he says. “To get your life turned upside down like this from one moment to the next. You probably want to beat the living hell out of whoever did this.”
I almost smiled at that. If I ever get my hands on those bastards, I’m committing murder.
“We’re clear,” Gorilla no. 1 says over the walkie talkie.
The gym’s empty. It should be since it’s about five in the morning. I start my stretches right away and eye the sandbag enviously. Later. If I have energy for it later, I’ll get to it. But right now, I’m full of energy and I have to get through it. So I do it all, treadmill, Stairmaster, climber, stationary bike. Then I move on to the free weights until my muscles almost scream for release.
Finally, I go to stand in front of the sandbag. Tired as I am, muscles burning from the effort, I want to do this. I want to pound.
“One of you is going to make themselves useful,” I snap at the gorillas. “You owe me for staring at me.”
One of them, I don’t know, or care, if it’s no. 1 or 2, moves behind the bag and holds on to it. Maybe I should have warned him that I hit hard for a girl but if you were in my shoes, would you really care? I don’t. I just want to hit and hit hard. And I do. And I cry. Big racking sobs mixed in with screams of frustration accompany each hit until I fall to the ground, my strength and will deserting me.
There’s a hand on my shoulder and I blink up. It’s not the gorillas but one of the last people I’d expected to see.
“You can’t let them win,” he whispers to me as I sit in his lap. “Every time you let them win, you’re giving thousands of people a reason to give up to.”
“But I don’t know if I have the strength to not give up…”
“You love her, right?”
“Yeah but…”
“No ifs, ands or buts about it. You love her, you fight for her, plain and simple.”
“What if she gets hurt? What if she can’t be protected? It’s not her they hate, it’s me.”
“So what would you do?”
“If I get away from her, then she’ll be safe and if they come after me, they won’t hurt her at all and…”
“You’ll break her heart.”
“She’ll live!”
“Not without you.”
“But I’m afraid,” I tell him.
“Don’t let them see you sweat,” he repeats into my ear.
“It’s too late.”
I slide off the baseball cap and I watch his eyes go wide when he sees the wide streak of white in my jet-black hair.
“They’ll know I’m afraid.”
“Oh kid…”
I’m still sitting in his lap when Amy joins us in the gym. She’s got the gorillas with her. She looks at Rocky and me and she seems a little sad.
“Amy…”
“I was scared when you weren’t there when I woke up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You could have woken me up instead of getting him away from home.”
“I didn’t…”
“Vince called me last night and told me what happened,” Rocky explains. “Not a lot of people know about this but I get hate mail too. Apparently, to some, the People’s champion is nothing but a nigger.”
“I would have understood,” Amy repeats.
I shake my head, “No… you wouldn’t. It’s… invasive… it’s more than… it’s hateful and baby, I love you but you can’t understand it. Racism…”
“I can too!”
“No,” Rocky says. “You’d have to be Black to understand it.”
“Honey, I don’t… it could hurt you, my being Black and loving you and I don’t want that.”
“Not having you would hurt more.”
“She’s right Kat. Love her and the world be damned.”
“If she gets hurts,” I sob.
“Then I’ll open a can of whoop ass and stick my foot so far up their candy asses…”
Amy sits on Rock’s other lap and pecks his cheek. I lean forward and press my forehead against her, losing myself in her eyes. The love I see there doesn’t take away the fear but it reminds me that I fear more for her than for me.