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“Goodbye, Kenyatta.”

I turned my back, shaking my head, as the tears began to flow. I kept my head held high as I strode down that walkway to the sidewalk, sobbing openly, heartbroken. I felt hollow inside, shattered and gutted. But I was me again. I’d been here before. I was no one’s slave anymore. I was no one’s second-class citizen. The tattoo would fade. I’d get a job, and my life would resume. I’d come back from heartache after heartache and I would come back from this one. What Kenyatta put me through, would always be a part of me. Like it or not, he had taught me a lot about race and racism. Things I would never forget. He’d literally scarred these lessons into my flesh.  Perhaps I owed him for that...but fuck him.

I didn’t know where my car keys were. Kenyatta had taken them from me when we first began this sadistic game. I didn’t care. I kept walking past my car, down the street, to the nearest bus stop. I sat there, seesawing from relief, to anger, to overwhelming sadness. I didn’t know what I should do next, then I cautiously probed my cheek with my fingertips. It was swollen and still felt warm to the touch from where Kenyatta had slapped me. My lip was swollen as well and I could taste blood in my mouth. I sighed deeply, pulled out my cell phone, and called 911.

Epilogue

I sat down at an outdoor café in South Beach, sipping a mimosa and waiting on a shrimp cocktail. The tattoo had faded away months ago. I was back working for the school district after cutting my hiatus short. My life was almost back to normal.

I pressed charges against Kenyatta for slapping me and took out a restraining order against him. Angela called me a few times to beg me to reconsider. She even threatened me on more than one occasion until I recorded one of her more hostile phone calls and had her arrested for making terrorist threats. That was four months ago, and I haven’t heard from either of them since.

The waitress brought my shrimp cocktail, and I made a mental note to leave her a big tip. I took another sip of my mimosa and was just about to dig into the shrimp cocktail, when a familiar silhouette caught my attention. He was across the street at a used bookstore. He wore a white shirt and a red tie with the sleeves rolled up like a politician on the campaign trail. There was a woman on his arm, a tall blonde with big tits, wide hips, and a big round ass. Kenyatta’s type. He reached over and patted the woman on her ass. I could hear her giggle from across the street.

When I saw the collar around her neck, the same one I had worn, I felt a twinge of jealousy. Then I spotted the book in his hand. I couldn’t read the title from where I was, but I didn’t need to. I had seen it so many times before. When he opened it and began to read from it to the tall blonde, a chill raised over my skin. He was doing it again. He had found another victim for his twisted mind games, another fool.

I reached into my wallet and pulled out two twenties to cover the bill, then I stood and began walking across the street. I reached into my purse one more time. Living alone in the city was scary sometimes. I had long ago taken to carrying protection. I felt the familiar weight of it in my hand as I approached the two of them. I had been submissive for far too long. It was time to end the game for real. And this time, there would be no safe word.

Acknowledgements

Special thanks to R.J. Cavender and Marc Ciccarone for having faith in this project. Thanks to Monica O’Rourke for her invaluable editing advice. Tod Clark for his keen eye for the little things. And Christie White for the inspiration.

About the Author

Wrath James White is a former World Class Heavyweight Kickboxer, a professional Kickboxing and Mixed Martial Arts trainer, distance runner, performance artist, and former street brawler, who is now known for creating some of the most disturbing works of fiction in print.

Wrath is the author of The Resurrectionist, Succulent Prey, Yaccub’s Curse, Sacrifice, Pure Hate, and Prey Drive (Succulent Prey Part II). He is also the author of Voracious, To The Death, Skinzz, The Reaper, Like Porno For Psychos, Everyone Dies Famous In A Small Town, The Book Of A Thousand Sins, His Pain and Population Zero. He is the co-author of Teratologist co-written with the king of extreme horror, Edward Lee, Orgy Of Souls co-written with Maurice Broaddus, The Killings and Hero co-written with J.F. Gonzalez, and Poisoning Eros I and II co-written with Monica J. O’Rourke.