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uzumaki-rebellion · 2 months ago

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Spinning the Block Part 2

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica "Jess" Sims

Warning(s): 18+, Suicide Mentioned, Smut.

Summary: Terry returns to Shelby Springs to find Jess.

Word count: 4.2K

"I keep my head up high

I cross my heart and hope to die

Lovin' me is complicated

Too afraid of a lot of changes

I'm alright and you're a favorite

Dark nights in my prayers"

Kendrik Lamar – "Alright"

The dust had finally settled.

Terry sat in a Shelby Springs coffee shop and mulled over the whirlwind two years he'd lived through. His high-profile case against the Shelby Springs Police Department ended in his favor. The case didn't drag out for years, probably because the video proof of misconduct was irrefutable. The combination of systemic corruption, civil rights violations, departmental liability, and lack of community trust in the leadership helped the jury make a quick decision. Summer and Marston's testimony did significant damage, but it was Jess Sims' presence that rattled him. Whatever ambivalence he felt about her part in knowing what that corrupt police department was doing, Jess's community rallied behind her. They set up online support to encourage people to donate money for her lawyer's defense fund and to help support her financially while temporarily suspended without pay. There were online testimonials from citizens vouching for her character. Even former criminals who had run-ins with the police posted TikTok clips of how Jess checked up on them to make sure they stayed on the straight and narrow after interactions with her as their arresting officer.

"Officer Sims didn't play. She talked to me like one of my aunties and that made me feel real bad, y'know, like I let down somebody in my family for being a fuckup. Sims told me to get my shit together. She even went to my grandmama's house to see if I signed up for night school like I said I would. My grandmama and my mama didn't even know how bad I was doing. I was pissed at first, cuz I felt like she needed to mind her business. Feel me? But yeah…I got my G.E.D. and I'm working a steady gig now. When I seen all that bullshit go down with homeboy and his cousin…I believed them cops did that shit. But I wouldn't yoke her up with them other fuckers. Ain't no good cops really outchea, but she made me think there might be some tryin' to do right by people."

The comments to that particular TikTok blew up and people argued among themselves about Jess's choice to be a cop, knowing that one Black woman among a squad of white boys didn't make her appear capable of fighting systemic racism. She was called everything from a white man's bedwench for knocking niggas around to the best type of law enforcement needed…someone connected to her community who put their needs first by protecting them from the white cops.

None of her community accolades or dedication to the force appeased other cops who painted her as a traitor to the blue line. She withstood online hate and ferocious public scrutiny. That had to be tough on her. Meanwhile, the public framed Terry and his cousin as victims of police brutality. His Aunt Rosa received nearly one million in GoFundMe donations. It covered burial expenses and the cost of a heavy-hitter lawyer to take on their wrongful death suit against the prison that was negligent in protecting Mike. The lawsuit would take some time, but all the media attention shed light on the case. He hoped his aunt would get swift justice.

As for Terry, he received a multi-million dollar settlement.

He cried when the judgment was read to him out loud in court. His lawyer cried with him because it meant that the world knew he was innocent and the cops were indeed callous bastards. No legal analyst expected the police department to appeal. Chief Sandy Burnne acted belligerent on the stand and justified his actions as a way to keep the town afloat because of budget constraints. He clammed up when Terry's lawyer brought up his previous wrongful death suit as the true cause of the department's financial crisis. He would more than likely die in prison with the long stretch he faced in the criminal case against him. The suicide of the corrupt Judge Logston who helped hide the truth nailed it shut in many minds. Why take yourself out if you're innocent?

The departments's insurance would pay it quickly and quietly. The city council of Shelby Springs wanted their town's name and tarnished reputation out of the media.

The judge approved the settlement, and the case was officially closed after eighteen months.

Sitting in the coffee shop stirring sugar into his espresso, the idea of being a wealthy man didn't faze him. Getting the truth out mattered most. It didn't surprise him that others who went through the terror tactics of the cops didn't come forward or even want to join a class action lawsuit. They had to live in that town or near it among family members of the cops that crossed several parishes. The trauma ran deep for some, and they wanted to forget about the money or assets stolen from them. Terry had nothing to lose. No wife or kids. No steady girlfriend. No job. No fear. He was a lone wolf with nothing but time on his hands to go up against a beast of a system.

Still, he couldn't keep Jess Sims taking the stand out of his mind. She wore a simple beige top with a tan blazer and brown slacks. She had puffed out her hair in a halo of fluffy curls, pulled back by a hair clip on one side. The light make-up on her face showed him what a stunner she was out of uniform. When his lawyer made a little joke to help Jess relax, he noticed she had a dimple in her right cheek when she smiled. Their eyes met briefly before she was grilled about her role in the case.

Certain things were made clear. Chief Burnne kept Jess in the office for the majority of her work shifts. Misdemeanor cases were in abundance in Shelby Springs, and most people didn't question it because of the war on drugs and whatever made-up war they used to explain away why so many victims were called by their incarcerated loved ones to bring large sums of purposely inflated bail money in cash. Officer Lann and Officer Marston, along with two other officers Burnne used, were the primary culprits who arrested people. Judge Logston notified the police chief when a new bundle of cash was expected to come through in an attempt to bail out a loved one.

Burnne knew Jess was a straight-shooter and good at computers, so he kept her mainly indoors for the past two years as their department struggled with budget cuts. She also cared for her ailing grandfather at home, so her schedule remained fixed to gift her flexibility to run home for emergencies when the day nurse she paid for had issues. Each date that his lawyer brought up pertaining to a civil asset seizure, she could show in her personal daily planner that she worked in the office that day. Her patrol days were usually on Saturdays when her sister-in-law stayed with her grandfather.

Terry watched the dawning realization on Jess's face as she understood how Burnne had manipulated her and kept her away from a lot of actions she would most likely object to. The chief stayed considerate of her home situation only because it was the best way to keep her and a few other goody-two shoes cops in the dark as much as possible.

In the beginning of her testimony, Jess answered confidently and spoke highly of her former boss in terms of how he treated her. Burnne played on her need to clean up the streets and indoctrinated her with the mindset that they were under siege by nefarious cartels and drug dealers. No one could be trusted. Their actual legitimate drug busts cemented in Jess's mind that Burnne knew what was best, and she moved his way. Terry's lawyer baited her into speaking of her moral compass and pushed her to explain why she had held a gun on Terry when he thought she was Serpico.

"Until that point, I had no cause to believe that Chief Burnne acted unlawfully," Jess said.

His lawyer, a white man with the mind of a steel trap, stared at her hard before speaking again.

"Terry Richmond, who had done nothing but de-escalate every situation he faced with your fellow officers…you included…he hands you SD cards and asks you to broadcast them for the world to see after he thinks he'll be arrested or killed by your department… and that doesn't give you pause Miss Sims that maybe something is rotten in Denmark…or even a little fishy?"

Jess glanced at him, and he tried to give her an encouraging look to tell her truth. Her eyes watered.

"I wasn't sure what to believe. Things were happening so fast and I didn't want him to hurt the Chief or me."

"Miss Sims, you told us earlier that Mr. Richmond remained calm at all times, always explaining what he was going to do, and even conveyed to you that he wanted to avoid gunfire and violence. Why didn't you at least stop to look at the footage?"

Jess held her head high and kept her tears from falling.

"I wanted to trust Chief Burnne—"

"But you just stated that you weren't sure what to believe."

"That's because I didn't want to make a mistake and get my fellow officers or Mr. Richmond killed because of doubt. I kept thinking things could be sorted out later, as long as no one got hurt."

"That's the thinking of a good cop. We know you're good, Miss Sims, because we saw video of you stopping Officer McGill from shooting Mr. Richmond in cold blood. Mr. Richmond also testified that he thanked you for protecting him from men who wanted to… and I quote, "string me up". You also stopped Chief Sandy Burnne from obstructing justice by pushing him off the road and arresting him. The problem I'm having, though, is why you waited so long to stop Burnne once he shot Officer Marston…"

Jess's voice sounded unsure later in her testimony. It appeared that she questioned her own actions as she recalled them. She gave the impression that she was willing to support bad actors and questionable conduct as long as the end result she wanted came about. To Terry, she sounded no different from the Black soldiers he worked with in the marines who were gungho about fighting bad guys overseas, even if a few innocent civilians in other countries got crushed. Collateral damage.

Terry sipped his drink and contemplated the busy street outside. Such a sleepy-looking town. The type of place people put on postcards. A white woman strolled past, walking a small black and white dog with a young girl. She double-backed a few seconds later with her mouth held open. He grinned and gulped down the last of his espresso before leaving the coffee shop and joining the woman outside.

"Terry Richmond…I swear as I live and breathe!"

Summer McBride hugged Terry, and he lifted her up, returning the affection.

"You look amazing," she gushed.

"You look good too."

"Oh, please," she said.

She ran a hand over her thin blond hair that was about two inches longer than the last time he saw her.

"This is my daughter Annie…Annie this is Mr. Richmond, the man who saved me."

Summer's daughter had her mother's lanky blonde hair and a thin build. She looked to be about nine years old.

"Hi Annie," he said.

Annie acted shy and stayed close to her mother as she held the leash of the passive dog.

"Hi," Annie said.

"When did you get here…and why did you come back?" Summer said.

"Got here last night, and I came to check on some people in person. You and your daughter…and someone else."

"Marston?"

"No…Jess Sims."

Summer stared at him for a long time.

"Why Jess?"

Terry crouched down to play with Summer's dog. The puppy willingly went to him, and he glanced across the street, keeping an eye out for Jess. A Black café owner on the corner informed him earlier, after he ate an early breakfast, that Jess and her friends often had brunch there every Wednesday at one. He hung around the coffee shop to do some reconnaissance, looking for her. He tried contacting her through his lawyer, but she changed her phone number. His plan was to see her…try to talk to her. He had a burning desire to sort his feelings about everything with her. After the court case, he was compelled to let her know that he was never going to hold hard feelings against her. The vitriol she received from the outside world was enough. He needed her to know that he wanted her to keep living without guilt. All the others could go to hell, especially Marston, who started the whole ball running by ramming his cruiser into him.

But Jess?

He wanted her to have grace. The look of regret and shame on her face at Mike's repast made it possible for him to forgive her part in the whole affair. It was brave for her to show up at his aunt's house, knowing she'd be the target of scorn and the rage of a family who shouldn't be mourning Mike.

When he glimpsed her face back in Greenwood, he couldn't believe it. He almost didn't recognize her. She'd stayed on his mind for days. His cousin flipped the fuck out on her, and Terry chased Jess down the street. She looked so vulnerable and broken. Scared. He wanted to hug her, even though his cousin had every right to curse her out. That was her baby brother shanked to death. Her only brother.

He looked up at Summer. Why Jess?

"I need closure with her. She saved me two times…three, actually. Saved you."

"She was only saving her ass."

"Like your friend, Marston?"

Summer looked away. Her body language and tone told him more than she realized. She and Jess had history of some kind.

"You know her?"

"Yeah. We were friends at one time."

"What happened?"

"That's personal."

"I have a lot of time available to listen."

"Over dinner?"

He grinned. Summer gave him a coy smile. He sensed some flirtation, but he wouldn't feed it. She was strictly for the friend zone.

"Pick the restaurant. My treat," he said.

"No, my treat at my place. It might be better if we aren't seen eating out together since…you know…the case has been settled. I make a mean casserole and I can fill you in on my case against Officer Lann."

"When?"

"Let's do tomorrow night. Annie goes back to her dad's and we can have some privacy. My number is the same."

"Okay. Sounds like a plan."

Terry noticed a Dodge Durango pull into a parking spot across the street. Seven Black women piled out and Jess was the last to exit from the driver's side. He inhaled through his mouth quickly, seeing her with her people. She smiled and checked her cell phone, pulling out a pair of glasses. Her black and silver off-the-shoulder halter top accentuated all that she had up front and her short jean skirt gave him an eyeful of big legs and thick thighs. The heels of her black open-toe half boots helped stream-line her profile. She was all huggable curves and wide hips. Big hoop earrings dangled to her shoulders and her laughter drifted across the street, making music in his ears. Goddamn. Nothing made Terry weaker than a short, big-breasted woman who wore glasses.

"Well, there she is," Summer grumbled.

Her voice sounded irritated. She took the leash from Annie.

"See you tomorrow night," Summer said.

Jess glanced their way and froze.

"Good luck," Summer said, walking off with her daughter and dog.

Terry looked over at Jess again. Her party of women entered the café laughing and talking loud, but she stood near her car with a concerned expression. He smoothed his blue sweater down to make sure he was presentable and crossed the street after a car rolled past.

"I've been trying to contact you. You changed your number," he said.

Terry tried to sound upbeat to help ease her apprehension.

"Changed it a year ago," she said in a crisp and cautious tone.

Jess's central Louisiana accent had him feeling bashful in front of her. Things were so different when she wasn't in uniform. This was a bona fide southern baddie in front of him. He didn't want to lose all his cool in front of her, however, it would've been so easy to take one step and place a hand on her car's roof, hem her up against the driver's door and talk that talk to her like he was trying to pull her in his orbit. She had to be feeling him because her eyes dropped to his chest, admiring the wide expanse of it.

"I see you're about to have a meal with your people, so I won't take up too much of your time…I just needed to see you, Jess. Can we meet up for another time to talk openly?"

"I don't know why you'd want to. Last time you saw me, I caused a scene at your cousin's house."

"That was a tough day, and my entire family stayed on edge. I'm sorry about your passenger window. Can I take you out to eat later in the week? Friday maybe? Or we could take a long drive into the country, get away for a chance to connect…talk?"

"I have a church function on Friday."

"Saturday."

"Busy. Terry, I don't feel comfortable—"

"Okay, okay. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for keeping me alive."

Jess chewed her lip, and her left leg shook. She averted his direct gaze, and he so wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be fine. But he didn't know that for sure, at least not for her. He dug for his wallet in his back pocket and pulled out a card from the motel he stayed at.

"I'm in room 5B. Please call if you change your mind. I'm going to stay here for a few more days. If I don't hear from you, I'm going to leave town."

"You should leave now. There's nothing for you here except a horrible memory."

Jess started wiping at her eyes as tiny teardrops fell down her plump cheeks. He moved in close and hugged her, letting her nervous trembles get absorbed by his warm strength.

"I'm not here to upset you or make you feel bad, Jess…I care about what's going on in your life. We both went through something traumatic that changed us. I know you're having a hard time here."

She wept onto the top of his chest. He rubbed her back to soothe her. The way she rested against his solid frame felt right.

"Jess? Everything okay?"

One of her girlfriends stepped out from the café, looking for her. Terry didn't want to stop holding Jess. All that softness molded against his hard muscles reminded him of how long he'd been without the regular comforts of a woman. He'd had a few hook-ups throughout the trial, but none of the women he spent intimate time with felt like the woman in his arms. Her lushness and the way she clung to him aroused a yearning to be alone with her. But only when she was ready.

He stepped away from her and stroked her shoulders.

"I won't pressure you. If you don't call me, I'll understand why and won't bother you again."

She nodded and walked away from him quickly. Her friend, another heavyset woman with long straight hair, threw an arm around Jess's shoulder and escorted her inside the café.

That didn't go so well.

Terry took a long walk around the town square to clear his head. He didn't want to make her cry, although he knew in his heart that speaking with her could turn emotional. Now that he'd approached her, he wasn't so sure if talking with her would do either of them any good. He was already feeling the heaviness in his chest from listening to her sob. Did she think he just wanted to punish her with his words? Give her a verbal tongue lashing to rid himself of the burden of Mike's death? Lay it at her feet so she would suffer for as long as his family did?

Truthfully, he didn't know what to do. He'd been languishing in a holding pattern for two years since Mike's murder. The lump sum of his multi-million dollar payout gave him financial freedom to go anywhere. All he did was buy a brand new silver-blue Dodge Ram truck with a pop-up camper and drove straight to Shelby Springs to find Jess. The previous night, he slept out in the woods inside his pop-up to test it out. Roomy, comfortable, and perfect for his needs as an outdoorsman, Terry later sought a motel and bided his time, waiting for her to show up by lingering inside the coffee shop.

Now he found himself lost again.

He returned to the coffee shop after an hour and ordered a turkey club sandwich with tomato basil soup. Jess emerged from the café with her friends, looking subdued. He sat back in the cut and watched her drive away, thinking about her softness.

Returning to the motel, he tried to turn in early after watching a few movies. He tossed and turned all night, dreaming about Jess. Before dawn broke, he woke up with a throbbing erection. He twisted his legs around the cheap, thin motel sheets. Their friction against his dick might have influenced the vivid dream he snapped awake from. There was nothing inherently erotic about it at first, just a replaying of hugging Jess and rocking her in his arms. But then she dropped to her knees, right there next to her car, and unfastened his pants, fishing out the thick dick that her cute hands couldn't get to fast enough. The rich brown heaviness pulsed in her hand. He was a big man everywhere, and his erection was not meant for those who couldn't handle a big penis. Terry was so ready to nut all in her pretty mouth. Jess teased the fat mushroom cap and thick frenulum ridge with a nasty pink tongue that knew how to please him. He reached down to palm one of her breasts and her top just fell down to her waist, like the magic of dreams often did. Her big titties made him groan, especially the large reddish-brown areolas with stiff nipples ready to be pinched and played with.

Jesus! He was ready to bust.

She started shaking them fat titties, letting them smack against each other, letting him hear how loud they'd sound smacking above his face if he fucked her good and hard.

"Baby, you can put your mouth on that dick. Lemme see how far I can get it down your throat before you choke…"

His deep voice sounded demanding and direct. She lifted those big melons and jiggled them for him, her lips pulled back into a smile showing him that one dimple in her cheek.

That's when he woke up, sweating and cursing, because that shit wasn't really happening.

Terry untangled his legs from the sheets and fisted his dick, pumping his hand up and down from the root to the ridge, squeezing the heft. His pre-cum spilled out in a deluge and he groaned Jess's name. He envisioned her voluptuous breasts, wishing they were in his hands, and came so forcefully that his balls pulsed in a rhythm with the thick white streams he shot across the bed.

"Fuck…fuck…oh…fuck!"

He kept working his hand up and down, pretending she rode his dick, clapping the cheeks of her fat ass on his muscular thighs. A final release of cum signaled the end phase of his intense climax. No orgasm ever felt like that before, just from a dream.

Terry moaned and gasped for air. The room looked blurry because his eyes watered from the pleasure, sweating fluid like the rest of his skin and his content dick.

He squeezed his eyes shut and knew something for certain while being in Shelby Springs: either he'd end up fucking Jess Sims, or he'd make her cry again. Maybe even both… at the same damn time.

Part 3 HERE.

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uzumaki-rebellion · 2 months ago

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Spinning the Block Part 1

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica "Jess" Sims

Warning(s): 18+, Angst, Mentions of Racial Tension.

Summary: Jess Sims attempts to pay her respects.

Word count: 3.2K

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"Turned into an inconvenience

You only want me when convenient

I know that I could probably block you

But for some reason, I wanna see you

And you know I give a damn about you

You got me sittin' here thinkin' about you

And how your name triggers all my emotions

Into my eyes, into an ocean"

Normani – "Insomnia"

Jessica Sims knew in her heart she had no right to be at Michael Simmons' mother's house.

She'd driven an hour from Shelby Springs into Greenwood carrying a homemade lemon pound cake in the passenger side of her slate gray Dodge Durango. Her mother's recipe had her SUV smelling like fresh butter, sugar, and citrus.

The closer she got to the neighboring town, the tighter her fingers gripped the steering wheel, worrying if she'd see Terry Richmond again. He'd been on her mind for weeks…haunting her. She lost sleep and her nerves were so bad she had to get a prescription for sleeping pills just to function daily. Jess tried every home remedy from chamomile tea to a glass of warm milk before bed to fight insomnia.

Nothing worked.

Each night she crawled between cool sheets and stared at her bedroom ceiling, wishing things were different. Wishing she'd done things differently. Terry's smoldering sea-green eyes always came into focus, taunting her, preventing much needed rest.

When he walked into her police station to file a robbery complaint, she'd believed her department ran a tight ship. Her training had taught her to be fair but firm in following the law by the books. Chief Sandy Burnne had been her mentor, the one who recruited her straight from the police academy. She planned her law enforcement career while in college, joining the police academy a year after graduation. Her family wasn't too keen on the idea, preferring she use the hard-earned sociology degree to get a regular job and start a family like her older brothers. Jess had other plans. She wanted to be the first Black female police chief in Shelby Springs.

Wielding a badge and a gun allowed her to protect her own community. She had a certain charmed way of speaking to people that let them know not to test her, but that she'd hear them out with their problems whether they were in the wrong or right. Her excellent reputation around those parts gave her access to places that would unnerve the average person. She grew up a tomboy running around hunting with her father and brothers, physically fighting anyone who crossed her. She abhorred a bully, and that caused her problems with some of her colleagues that used their badge to sling their dicks around. Jess didn't go along to get along, but she picked her battles carefully to achieve her long-term goal: to run the department herself one day.

Men tested her all the time, and she did her job ignoring the micro and macro aggressions. Chief Burnne always had her back despite the cracker ways he tried to keep under wraps. He came from an era of uneducated Cajun rednecks filling up the department. Nowadays, there were more cops coming onto the force with education, melanin, and sometimes a vagina. A lot of old-school men didn't like that. Chief Burnne didn't either, but he accepted her and showed Jess respect when she did her job well. She impressed him, and he took her under his wing. She never revealed her goals to have his job in the future. Staying quiet, observant, and efficient worked to her advantage. Chief Burnne opened up more that way, spilling his tips on how to handle the job and people his way.

That is…until Terry Richmond showed up.

Jess misread his intentions from the start.

The second he strode into the office, she sensed a cockiness in him that smoldered beneath the surface. Most Black men in Shelby Springs were older and paunchy from a sedentary lifestyle and good Country Cookin', or lean youngsters with hustler's dreams of getting away from small town life. Terry was built strong and muscular, like a brick shithouse. He carried himself different. Spoke with controlled diction. He was a country boy for sure, but one that didn't work around Shelby Springs. She would've noticed his striking looks at the bars or cookouts broadcasting that he was living mighty fine. Employment was good with the new petrochemical plant ten miles away, and the Black community she lived in thrived with folks making good money, something that hadn't happened in over thirty years. Black folks, especially the men, being flush with cash and a pride about themselves irritated the white community. Negroes were acting a little too uppity lately. Buying new cars and scooping up property. Getting their homes built from scratch. Purchasing big fishing boats to use on Lake Tremblay. Sending their kids to college.

Tensions erupted in bars, public gatherings, and even football games at the local high school whenever white and Black people mingled in the same spaces. That's where Jess worked her magic. If she caught word of trouble brewing, she'd make a phone call to family and friends, giving a warning about police sweeps and rednecks making a commotion. The community grapevine activated and her people acted accordingly to stay far from trouble.

When it was her time to do patrols, Jess stayed visible in the white areas a lot. Her paternal great-granddaddy Adelore Seraphin was a fiery white Cajun who never married her great-grandmother, so she never gave their only child, Jess's granddaddy, his surname. The Sims family were proud Black Cajuns who turned their nose up at white trash. Adelore was considered trash because he wouldn't divorce his wife to marry Zema Sims. There was something about her Paw Paw's wife not giving him a divorce on account of them being Catholic. Granny Zema was an African Methodist and didn't give a damn about what Catholics thought about divorce. Paw Paw left that white lady and built Granny Zema a house to show that he was for real about building a life and family with her. So that's what they did. The white wife kept the marriage title, but Granny Zema kept the man.

It was a scandal, and as far as her Paw Paw was concerned, his only issue was that he didn't want that other woman to get part of his pension. She never did because she died before him, a bitter alcoholic, still screaming about the Black bitch that stole her husband. Technically, Granny Zema didn't steal him. She had him first, but back in their time, they couldn't get married because of miscegenation laws. So they broke up and Paw Paw married the white woman…and lived miserably. He started tipping out and one thing led to another. Jess's granddaddy, Hebert Sims, was born.

Jess's connection to Adelore Seraphin meant she had white Cajun relatives all up and down Shelby Springs. The kin on that side, who knew the family tree had an extra dark branch, tolerated Jess when she made patrols or answered calls of domestic disturbances in that section of town. Nothing on her screamed Seraphin except for her eyes. She had Paw Paw's discerning eyes. So did her daddy. She moved in the world like a Sims, but them pale kinfolk recognized her as the great-granddaughter of that trouble-making Seraphin behind her back. That gave Jess intimate knowledge of how outsiders perceived the proud, flourishing Black community. Trouble.

So when Terry Richmond rode his fine ass into Shelby Springs, he was already a problem before Lann clipped him with the police cruiser.

When he sat down in front of her while she typed in his descriptions of who robbed him, his tone was confident. His demeanor crafty. She was shocked that he recorded their conversation, equally shocked by Chief Burnne's sudden aggression toward him. Lann was an asshole to everyone, overcompensating for some deep-rooted male insecurity. Her first thought was that the Chief might've known something about Terry that she didn't, and she expected to be filled in on the matter. Drug couriers were a thing within small towns, and it wasn't above suspicion that drug runners would use a decoy disguise to pretend they were regular citizens going about their day. She went back and forth in her mind about Terry's reason for carrying so much cash in a backpack on a bike. It looked and sounded suspicious, especially with the drug busts they'd done a few months previously on the bridge during a police chase. She had picked up her own distant white kin at his house, the run-down place full of meth and illegal fentanyl. Opioid use was up. Drug dealers were racking up millions transporting that cash economy and product moving across state lines in Louisiana grew. Chief Burnne's own nephew had died of a drug overdose ten years ago, so anything that had a whiff of drug activity got his hackles up.

That was the hard line story they fed Jess for five years as she accepted civil forfeitures as a necessary part of police work. Portions of white and Black men from Shelby Springs and other bordering towns thrived in the drug trade. Sex trafficking, too. Her department prided itself on breaking the supply chain.

It had all been a lie.

Chief Burnne's lie. His department…his rules.

Jess had been inadvertently complicit.

A rule follower, and a staunch believer in the church of right and wrong, she turned a blind eye to activity that should've raised suspicions. Instead, she quietly looked out for her people on the domestic front, dousing potential flames of racist attacks, especially with all the MAGA crowd flaunting their bigotry and jealousy. Jess was more worried about racist attacks happening. Red necks were openly riding around in trucks carrying lynching ropes with right-wing slogans for bumper stickers. The south was always going to be the south, and America was always going to be America…the United Racists of America.

Jess literally couldn't be bothered if suspicious men passing through town carrying ridiculous amounts of cash got hemmed up. She damn well wouldn't coddle grown ass Black men if they got busted for doing crimes. Her daddy instilled in her a strong bullshit detector for her dealings with that.

"Sweetheart, Black men have to decide for themselves if they want to do right in the world. Black women can't keep the cape on forever, or come running with mops and brooms to clean up their messes. If Black women can get up every day and build up their community in the same terrible conditions as us, then they gotta stop babying these men who tear it down. There's no excuse for a Black man not wanting better for himself or his people. We done come too damn far to be the new terrorists against our own women and children."

Jess listened well. Applied it to Terry.

Something in her gut knew something wasn't right, but she didn't want to put herself out for some stranger who might've been tearing people's lives apart transporting thirty-six thousand dollars in cash. Black people always suffered the most with drug addiction and drug crime because of generational poverty and the predators who took advantage of that. Terry could've been lying to cover his ass for a drug cartel. She didn't know him, didn't know who his people were. He came into her life that day and turned it upside down. The only silver lining she clung to in the end was that she saved his life twice. Once when Officer McGill almost blasted him with a rifle when Terry dragged Marston behind a cruiser to safety. Jess slammed her hand on the weapon. McGill looked shell-shocked by the turn of events. She felt the same. Her boss had shot a fellow officer and made a speech to them all about how he would cover it up. If Chief Burnne harmed a white man that easily, he wouldn't blink twice before taking her out. The second time was when she carried out a PIT maneuver and knocked Burnne away from Terry, providing his last escape. The death of his cousin and the treatment he received in Shelby Springs were irredeemable. All she hoped for was peace in her own mind that she acted on the right side of judgement.

Jess followed her SUV's navigation system and pulled onto a street full of cars parked everywhere. She passed by Rosa Simmons' single family brick house with a large manicured lawn. Mourners milled about the front and the entrance door was wide open. After all the legal and medical inquiries, along with the criminal investigation, it took the Simmons' family three weeks to get Mike's body returned for burial.

She parked two blocks away and smoothed out her most subdued black sheath dress. It was plain and appropriate for the occasion. She carried the pound cake in a round Tupperware container and listened to her kitten heels click-clack on the narrow sidewalk. Her stomach churned, nearing the home.

"Hi..hello…hiya doin'?" she said, passing people she didn't know on the walkway to the house.

Heads nodded at her with sorrowful eyes and stooped body postures. The atmosphere inside the modest home was thick with heartache. Jess contemplated doing a pivot right back outside, but an older woman in her fifties with short-clipped hair sitting on a recliner noticed her.

Mike's mother, Rosa.

"My condolences, Mrs. Simmons," Jess whispered.

She didn't want to bring attention to herself and stepped forward, past a throng of people carrying plates of sliced ham, potato salad, and baked beans.

"Thank you for coming…oh you brought something, how thoughtful."

Rosa stood up.

"I can take that," Rosa said.

"Ma'am, I can put it with the other food."

"Mm-hmm, yes, the dining room table is right back there. Did you go to school with my Michael?"

"No, ma'am. I knew him from somewhere else. I'll put this away."

"Okay, baby. Fix yourself a plate while you're in there."

"Thank you."

Jess's eyes darted away and took in the other mourners. Her heart thumped a triple rhythm. It was best to put the cake on a table and leave. The stress of feeling like a traitor to her own wore on her nerves.

Delicious odors of soul food guided her nose to the dining room. The dining table could've buckled under the weight of so much food. Folks old and young helped themselves to fried chicken, crawfish, turnip greens, gooey macaroni and cheese, and a pot filled with smoked chiltlins.

She pushed a crock pot of brown gravy aside to make room for her cake next to a half-eaten sweet potato pie.

"Who let this woman in here?!"

A light brown woman with soft, shoulder-length curls glared at Jess, her lips curled into an angry snarl. Everyone looked at Jess curiously, wondering what was going on.

"Mama! Who let this dirty cop into our house?"

Rosa rushed into the dining room. Jess held out her hands.

"I just wanted to give my condolences—"

"You're the reason my brother is dead! Who let her in? Who?!" Mike's sister screamed.

The anguish in her voice brought tears to Jess's eyes.

"I'm sorry…everyone, I'm sorry…Mrs. Simmons…"

In her peripheral, Jess noticed Terry coming from a back room wearing a dark suit. She ran away as fast as her kitten heels could carry her. She knocked into people and brushed past other family members on her way out the door.

"Jess!"

Terry's deep baritone called to her, and she pumped her legs faster. Reaching the car, she fumbled for her key fob and unlocked the SUV. She jumped in and Terry banged on her window.

"I'm sorry I came. I didn't mean to upset your family," she said, starting her vehicle.

"Roll down your window."

His commanding eyes stared right through her. She rolled her window down partially. Wiping tears away from her cheeks, she faced her front window, unable to look at him.

"I know it wasn't easy for you to come here."

She shook her head, and a violent sob choked her throat.

"Listen…give me your number. I'd like to speak with you about all of this… at a better time—"

"No…this was a mistake…I'm sorry…I have to go—"

"Fucking bitch!"

Mike's sister threw Jess's cake on the car. The Tupperware container burst open and the pound cake crumbled all over the hood.

"Livia! Stop!"

Terry walked toward his cousin, and she ran from him toward the sidewalk. Other family members had followed them to watch the scene. Jess's stomach sank to the floor of her car.

"You did this to Mike! You goddamn greedy cops sent my brother to die and I fucking hate you! Get outta here, you murdering bitch!"

Livia picked up a heavy rock and threw it at the passenger side window, fracturing the tempered glass. Terry lifted his cousin up by the waist and carried her away. Jess drove off quickly. Cake crumbs fell away from her hood and she screeched her tires with a hasty exit.

She didn't hold back on crying, allowing her tears to wash away the shame and embarrassment.

Back in Shelby Springs, she paced the floors inside her house, drinking whiskey, and pondering her fate. Mike's burial was only the start of her troubles. Next came a lawsuit Terry filed against her department. It would probably finally bankrupt them like the last legal settlement they paid almost did. With the dashcam evidence, plus her, Summer, and Marston's testimony, Terry was sure to win a large payout. Her career was in jeopardy, and their department possibly disbanded.

She downed a half glass of Uncle Nearest whiskey and looked at her black dress. The audacity of her showing up in Greenwood thinking she could dip in and out without consequences.

Jess had to face her part in Terry's life being traumatized forever. Losing her job was a small price to pay for his lifetime of pain.

She leaned her head against her living room window in the dark and watched a swarm of fireflies do a light dance outside. Her grandfather used to say seeing fireflies brought good luck. Jess desperately needed that to be true.

Crawling into bed with her dress still on, Jess stared at her ceiling again, semi-drunk and all cried out. She thought about Terry calling out her name and running after her. He didn't sound mean or angry when he spoke to her briefly. Asking for her number surprised Jess, because…why? What could they talk about that would fix the wide valley between them? Maybe he wanted to yell at her too, get his justified anger off his chest. She deserved it.

Jess curled into the fetal position and thought of Terry. Even in mourning, he looked handsome in his suit. For the first time in weeks, she fell into a deep sleep without having to use medication.

Part 2 HERE.

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#Terry Richmond X Black Reader #terry richmond #rebel ridge #terry richmond fanfiction #rebel ridge fanfiction #Terry x Black Full-Sized Heroine #Terry Richmond x Jess Sims #Terry Richmond x Officer Jess Sims #terry richmond smut #Uzumaki Rebellion #Spinning the Block

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uzumaki-rebellion · 9 days ago

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Spinning the Block Part 4

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica "Jess" Sims

Warning(s): 18+ Explicit Sexual Content.

Summary: Jess takes Terry to The Pit to find Zeb.

Word count: 6.2K

"Give him cornbread

Whatchu gonna give him?

I wanna know"

Beau Jocque And The Zydeco Hi-Rollers – "Give Him Cornbread"

The heat of the club blasted Terry's face the moment he stepped inside.

A muggy dampness clung to his skin that made the air outside seem like the draft of a closing refrigerator door. He paid twenty in cash for entry, and took in the fast music, fast dancing, and fast service of drinks and spicy Cajun chicken wings. His head automatically started bobbing to the sounds of the accordion and the foot stomping. French Creole peppered his ears with the call and response between the band and the audience.

"There are some seats over there," Jess said.

He led her through a dense crowd that watched the clogged dance floor and noticed right away the stares coming from other men and a lot of women. Jess gripped his hand tight. The topknot she had on her head fell into disarray around her shoulders, making her look so much different under the lights…softer. Almost ethereal.

A couple took the seats they were after, and Terry placed Jess in front of him at the edge of the dance floor. He had to press into her because the place was overly stuffed with wall to wall people hoping to find a bit of real estate to move their hips. The midnight hour had passed and the real partying had begun. He lowered his lips to her ears.

"Keep your eyes open."

She nodded and scanned the room, searching for Zeb. The people surrounding them rocked their bodies in time to the uptempo music and he shook his hips, too. It had been a minute since he took time to party, and zydeco was in his blood. The Pit had the perfect down-home ambiance and décor that shouted locals-only. It touted itself as a club, but it looked like an old run-down restaurant that expanded into one. He could see where they added the expansion to create more space for the bandstand and dance floor in the ceiling's demarcation line between the gray and beige walls.

Jess swayed and shimmied her shoulders. Her backside bumped against his crotch. Her tight denim couldn't keep him from feeling the plushness of her ass, and once she started winding her hips, he stifled a groan and the urge to thrust into her to match the rhythm. He chastised himself. The old party scoundrel revved up in his bones, but he had a mission to complete first. They were there to find Zeb. He stepped closer to Jess, preventing her from moving. If she kept giving him all that friction, eventually, his dick would start poking on her. It was bad enough that he could look down over her shoulder and get a full view of her breasts propped up high like big ole country biscuits. His large hand could probably fit all in her cleavage comfortably. He tried to push libidinous thoughts from his head, but Jess tested his slippery restraint. Her hair fell to her waist like a silky swathe of nighttime sky and he fought to keep his hands from touching it to see how it felt against his fingertips.

She tapped his chest, and he lowered his head next to her lips.

"He's on the dance floor…wearing the blue baseball cap with the alligator on it. With the woman in the red blouse."

Terry clocked them both.

"Let's dance," he said.

He clasped Jess's hand. They passed through the crowd again.

"Hey…Jesss."

A big dude with a broad chest, wide smile, and clean-cut appearance approached her. He glanced at Terry, and the grin on his face slipped away.

"Hi Zion, excuse me for a minute," Jess said with haste.

Zion glared at Terry, but then Jess tossed back her hair and the man looked smitten again.

"You can just follow my lead," she said.

Terry ignored her words and held her hands like the experienced dancer he was. He started cutting up right away and that dimple in Jess's cheek popped out.

"Never mind," she said.

Her expression made him laugh. She definitely wasn't expecting him to be good. Her body followed his lead the way it was supposed to, and he swung her out a few times, pulling her in close. The position of his dick rested against her stomach and she acted like she couldn't feel the weight or heat of it so near. He knew for sure that if she were topless and took her bra off, her breasts would drop to where his dick would be if it were erect and ready for her. His mind drifted off, imagining her standing there rubbing her big tits all around his dick with her hair lightly brushing against his skin.

Fuck.

His dick jumped, and the first pooling of blood thickened him slightly. He played it off by spinning her around and working his feet in a box step to keep from bumping bellies again.

Damn. She kept distracting him. Keep it together.

Terry locked his focus on Zeb and his partner. The music segued into another number. Zeb left the dance floor, and Terry followed with Jess on his heels. He overtook the man and pretended to know him.

"Aye partna, long time no see," Terry said, all friendly.

Zeb looked at his shades, trying to figure out who he was. Jess patted his elbow.

"Follow us outside," Jess said.

Zeb balked and took two steps back from them like they had the cooties. Terry pulled off his shades.

"You know who I am, right?"

"I said a private place, Jess," Zeb hissed.

"Follow us to my car," she said.

Jess headed toward the exit. Zeb didn't move. Terry yanked out his wallet and kept his voice calm.

"Lemme pay you that money I owe you."

The word "money" lit Zeb's eyes up. He checked to see if anyone watched their interaction. Folks were busy slow dragging, drinking, and chasing tail.

"Yeah…c'mon," Zeb said.

They walked out together. Terry headed for the Durango.

Jess handed him her car keys. She opened the back passenger door for Zeb and patted her purse. The man climbed in without hesitation. Terry jumped into the driver's seat and adjusted it. From the outside of the SUV, it only looked like Terry and Jess were in the vehicle. Slipping his fingers in his wallet, Terry pulled out five hundred dollars in fifty-dollar bills. He handed it to Zeb.

"I want ten thousand," Zeb said.

"This is all the cash I have right now, but getting more is not a problem. I can pay you ten thousand."

Zeb's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Once he knew his asking price wouldn't be haggled over, he relaxed his shoulders.

"I don't want to talk about it here. Too many eyes who may recognize him," Zeb said.

"No one can see you here," Terry said.

"Can I trust you to pay? What if I tell you what I know and you fuck me over?"

"I have plenty of money. Trust me."

"Zeb, you can have my word that he'll pay," Jess said. "Terry is the type to do what he says he's gonna do."

Terry glanced at her. She kept her eyes on Zeb.

"I'ma need more than five hundred in my hand."

"How do we know you're telling the truth? You could be lying to us," Jess said.

"I told you I ain't runnin' no con, not with the shit I know. I need that ten thousand to get up outta here. Your cousin was just the tip of the iceberg of the foul shit goin' on in that prison."

"Tell him about the weapon," she said.

Zeb stayed silent. He seemed to wrestle with what to do.

"We ain't got all night, Zeb. I got the man in front of you. Talk," Jess grumbled.

"I know where the weapon is that killed your cousin. It was a shiv made from prison fencing. The killer gave it to me to dispose of. I hid it instead."

Terry ground his teeth together, and his jaw tightened. Jess looked at him with concern. Zeb leaned forward.

"It wasn't a prisoner who did it," Zeb said.

Terry exhaled, and Jess gripped the shoulder of the passenger seat.

"What are you saying, Zeb?" she whispered.

"A guard stabbed him. It was a set-up. Word came down, and I was told to take the shiv after it was used. But the guard cut his own hand by accident. He had to cover himself by pretending he was saving Mike and applied pressure to the wound. But he let him bleed out first. His blood is on the shiv with Mike's, and I'm pretty sure his fingerprints are on it too, because he only used a tiny piece of rubber glove to make a handle. It must've slipped, and he lost the grip, cutting his palm. DNA is on that shit. I wrapped it up in plastic —"

Terry lunged forward and grabbed Zeb by the throat.

"Terry! Stop! Stop choking him…he didn't kill Mike!"

Jess grabbed on his arm.

"Terry, please! If you hurt him, you won't get what you want!" Jess begged.

Her shrill voice stopped him. He released Zeb.

"Easy…everybody just… stay easy," Jess said.

Zeb gasped and rubbed his throat. He sat back in his seat with wary eyes on Terry.

"They threatened my family, bruh. My mother…my brother. I didn't help kill your cousin. They told me to dispose of the weapon or risk losing my parole and my family. But I had to keep it for insurance or else they'd pin it all on me!"

"Where is it?" Terry said.

Zeb shook his head.

"Nah, I need my money first. I'll tell you the name of the guard and where the shiv is. If you can't get all cash, I'll take a cashier's check for half of it. Make it out to Zebediah Chapman."

Terry pondered the honesty of the man.

"If you're lying, I'll come for your family myself."

"I'm a dead man if I don't leave this place soon. The longer I stay, the more danger they'll be in, too. I don't trust anybody in this town. I took a chance on Jess because she saved you."

Jess tapped her nails on the seat. She lined her gaze with him. He almost got lost in her sultry eyes.

"Tomorrow is the big cookout over at Landrieu Park. You could give him the money there. Lots of different people will be there from the church. It'll be safe and we'll all blend in. There's a basketball court… Terry could put the money in a gym bag for you Zeb, and it'll look natural. Y'all can talk in my car and make the transaction in the parking lot," she said.

Zeb nodded.

"That'll work. It's close to my mama's house. What time?"

"Better to do it early. It starts at three. Let's say two o'clock," she said.

Zeb jumped out and headed away from them with his hat pulled down lower.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"I believe him. He's scared out of his mind and isn't interested in trying to rob me, even though he knows I won a settlement. This is the first big break in this case after two years. Thank you, Jess."

"He found me. It wasn't like I was actively trying to solve anything."

"You came to me right away. That's good enough."

Terry leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes, grateful for any hope of getting justice for Mike and his aunt. He bit his bottom lip and a wet trail of tears rolled down his cheeks. He wiped his face.

"I need a drink," he said.

He climbed out and wiped his eyes again.

A lead. The possibility of concrete proof. The Edgewater Correctional Facility was a private prison doing all it could to fight his aunt Rosa for the death of Mike. If Terry had the weapon to turn over to Rosa's lawyer, it would be a bombshell case he could slam dunk.

The tension he carried in his neck and shoulders for two years loosened a smidgeon. Jess walked in front of him to the entrance, and he placed a gentle hand on her lower back as he bent to open the door for her. Over at the crowded bar, patrons made space for them. Jess leaned over and whispered something in Creole to the bartender, a plump man with cherub cheeks and a buck-toothed grin.

"Gotcha, Jess," the bartender said, turning to fetch a bottle from the top shelf.

He placed two shot glasses in front of them, and a liquid resembling molten gold filled them.

"What's this?" Terry asked.

"The best thing we have in the house," the bartender said.

Jess lifted her shot glass and held it in front of him. He picked up his.

"May tomorrow go well for you," Jess said.

They clinked glasses and tossed back the first round.

"Goddamn!" he shouted.

Jess giggled as he pounded his chest, feeling the fire go down.

"One mo' for the floor?" the bartender asked, tilting the bottle his way.

"Oui," Terry said.

"Tu parles créole?"

"Un petit peu. Ça fait un moment," Terry replied, tilting his hand back and forth indicating how little he spoke in awhile since being away from home.

"Vous le comprendrez très bien ici."

"You really think I'll understand good here?"

"We conversatin' well, and you got Jess with ya. She can help you pick up what ya don't remember."

"Stop volunteering me to be a translator, Andre. He understood every word you said with no problem."

Andre poured her fresh whiskey to the lip of the glass and did the same for Terry.

"Hurry up and drink. The music is extra spicy right now," Andre said.

Terry and Jess didn't bother to tap glasses the second time. The whiskey bloomed a sun in his chest, and lightness permeated his limbs. A forward momentum appeared in his life once more, banishing the stagnant cement block that felt like it was stuck in his spirit and would drag him down into a lonely abyss.

He rose from his stool and reached back for Jess's hand. She held it and he glanced at her fine ass, acutely aware that her admirers were throwing daggers at him with their stares cutting his way. A glassy shine of beautiful brown eyes peered back at him from her. On the dance floor, he pulled her in close to make sure she was real because the liquor had him floating already. The zydeco sound this time was funky and drum-heavy. The lead singer's voice had a rhythm and blues drawl to it.

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He slipped his right leg partially between Jess's thighs and they swayed together. She held onto his upper back and he squeezed her waist, enjoying the perfect fit. The sight of a tall, strapping man and a short round woman throwing down forced others to give them room. The liquor heightened the experience heavily because they stepped in tandem, touching each other with an intimate familiarity. Each time they separated to do their own syncopated moves, the crowd urged them to cut up some more.

"Get it, Jess!" Andre called out.

A few women shouted her name, letting him know she was well known there. Jess shook them wide hips and her titties bounced. He matched her energy. Her eyes lined with his and he knew she was feeling him. Big time. They danced together with one hand connected, and he snapped them in time to the beat, watching Jess turn and drop her hands to her knees, throwing that ass against his crotch in time to the music. When she spun back up to face him again, he dropped his knees low and playfully snapped his fingers toward her body, letting the crowd see how sexy she moved for him. It stirred up a little competition on the floor and the lead singer started talking to the dancers, egging them on by describing how quick they moved.

They both spun away from each other and danced separately. Jess had her eyes closed and threw her hands up in the air like she was doing a praise break in church, letting her long hair swing on her back. Winding her waist up, she looked angelic and sinful at the same time. Sweat poured out of them, but they kept moving until he snagged her hand again. He twirled her out and pulled her back fast, sliding his thigh between her big legs again.

They danced the night away while sipping liquor between songs.

"Where you get him from, girl?"

A skinny woman with a pock-marked face and friendly grin stared at Terry, and Jess gave a toothy smile, not bothering to answer. They were in synch and danced as if they both had to exorcise some demons through rocking hips and ass shaking. Her face glistened with perspiration like his, and she looked even more beautiful. Her hair puffed up, losing its length as it curled at the root. She shuffled feet with skill like no other, and he wondered why he never ran into her over in the Greenwood clubs he partied at in his youth. He'd messed around with plenty of Shelby Springs girls before he joined the marines. Had Jess walked around his neck of the woods, he would've been on her in a heartbeat.

"Secoue-le!" he shouted.

She grinned and shook her body like he told her to.

"Donne-moi plus!" he added. Give him more.

"Tu en as assez," she teased.

"You sure I have enough?" he said.

"Oui. You do."

She rolled her eyes at him and clutched his shoulder. A boldness surged through him. Terry stopped dancing in the middle of the floor and cradled her face. Her eyes widened, and she touched his waist. She had to have sensed his palpable attraction to her. It sat around him like a heavy shroud of fog ready to engulf her. Jess's eyes stayed connected to his like she was trapped by his allure. She made it so damn hard to remain a gentleman.

He kissed her.

His lips smothered hers and she tilted her head back, accepting the offering of intimacy. She opened her mouth, and he slipped his tongue inside, tasting the strong whiskey they shared all night. The kiss didn't last long, but the satisfaction of going for what he wanted was enough. If nothing else ever happened between them, he was pleased to have finally sampled those delectable lips. He pulled back and her eyes were still closed. The corners of her lips crooked up into a smile, and that dimple appeared.

"Let's go have another drink," he suggested.

She nodded, but before they reached the bar, another man slipped his arm around her waist and led her back to the floor.

"You owe me a dance, remember?" the man said.

"This is Zion," Jess said.

"W'sup? I'm Terrell," Terry said, using his full name.

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm 'bout to steal her for a minute…you mind?"

His tone tested Terry to say different. Jess didn't appear to take the guy serious, but she averted Terry's direct gaze. She had to ride home with him regardless of what Zion may have been hoping to get into with her. Let him have his little dance.

"Nah partna, I need a rest."

"Be right back, okay?" she said.

"I'm going to the restroom. Have fun," he said.

She walked with Zion back to the dance floor. He meandered around until he found the men's room and voided his bladder at a smelly urinal with half a pink urinal cake. Afterward, he bought himself bottled water. His buzz ended an hour ago when he cut himself off in order to drive sober, because Jess stayed tipsy. He didn't know her tolerance level, or where she lived, and figured he'd drive her home, or take her back to his motel and book a room for her.

He'd need to get to the bank by twelve noon, and luckily there was a branch of the one he used off the highway exit near the motel. Rosa's lawyer would be in his office on Monday, so whatever Zeb gave him, he'd pass on to the law office instead of the authorities first.

Terry took a seat at a small table and surveyed the crowd. Two white women sauntered near him, flirting with a few men. The club was entirely Black and the women stood out like fetish thrill seekers by the way they interacted. A BBC prowl is what it looked like to him. Several patrons with pinched faces and eye rolls made it very clear that the two interlopers were not welcome because of their sketchy behavior. The ladies didn't care, strutting around like they were the shit. Up close they looked older, forty-ish by his estimate, their faces carved with severe lines and sharp angles, but their clothing tried to appear youthful. One of them with a beauty mark above her lip stared at him in the half-light as she approached.

"You have such beautiful eyes," she slurred.

He nodded with a polite smile and looked past her, searching for signs of Jess and Zion. The music had him bouncing in his seat and he caught sight of Jess eventually. She gave Zion two songs before she left the other man's side. Zion watched her walk away as Terry waved her over to him.

No more seats were available at the table, but Terry pulled her onto his lap side saddle. Jess acted shy but he held onto her waist with both arms, in the front and back. He enjoyed how his arm rested on the puffy part of her belly like a cushion made for him. What he wouldn't give to rest his head there while she rubbed on his scalp. He stayed respectable with her like that, not tempted at all to rub on her booty. Zion stared at them from a distance.

"Whenever you're ready to go," he said.

"I'm not good to drive," she whispered in his ear.

"I'll get you a room at the motel," he said.

She nodded.

They listened to the music, but he delighted in holding her. Her backside sank into his thighs and she draped an arm around his shoulder and neck.

"I had fun with you tonight," he said.

"I haven't been out like this in a long time. You helped remind me of what I've been missing…fun."

He checked his cell and decided they should head back. Jess stumbled a little as they headed out. He held her arm to keep her steady. As they approached the Durango, he noticed the white woman who spoke to him inside the club, fucking a hard-faced man with locs in the driver's seat of a white Honda. The window stood cracked open, and they were loud. Jess looked at them for a second and ignored them as she handed him her keys.

Climbing in next to him, Jess buckled up and sighed.

"That's all they come here for. We call 'em marshmallow hoes, cuz they always sniff around for hot chocolate."

"She told me I had beautiful eyes."

"She wanted some dick."

He grinned. Jess stared at his face.

"You do have beautiful eyes."

"So do you," he said.

"Stop flirting with me."

He laughed, and she reached under her seat and pulled out her purse.

"I drank way too much."

She took out her cell and texted a message to someone.

Terry drove them onto the highway, and they listened to a gospel CD.

"My grandfather's music," she said.

She reached to turn it off.

"Let it play," he said.

"He likes listening to it when I take him around to do his errands. I live with him."

"It's cool that you still have a grandfather around. Both of mine died when I was in junior high."

"He's been a widow for ten years now. My grandma had breast cancer. He took care of her to the very end. Retired early from his job to look after her when she first got diagnosed. We thought she beat it, but it came back. I told myself I would take care of him the way he did for her. They were so cute together."

She stared out of the window and then rolled it down, making waves with her hand in the warm air stream.

"He's my best friend," she said. "My family and friends used to make fun of me, always wanting to be around my granddaddy when I was little, but he's always been my favorite person in the whole world."

"Mike was like that for me. He was more like my brother than a cousin. Wherever he was, that's where I would be, and vice versa."

"Pull over…"

"What?"

"Quick, pull over!"

Terry drove the car to the side of the two-lane highway and Jess jumped out, retching violently into the dirt. A bunch of liquid spewed from her and she heaved several times until she stopped and wiped her lips.

"Sorry…sorry…" she said.

"No problem. You feel better?"

She wiped her hair back and inhaled the summer air.

"I'm good…I'm good…I'm—"

Vomit flew out again, and she fell over into the dirt from the unexpected force.

Terry put the SUV in park and hopped out to assist her. He lifted her to her feet and rubbed her back. The strands of her hair were soft satin.

"This is so embarrassing," she lamented.

"We all over-do it sometimes."

He helped her back into the SUV and chuckled under his breath.

"At least you didn't get any on your clothes," he said.

The parking lot at the motel was full of cars.

"The hell," he said.

He had to park her car in front of the manager's office. A No Vacancy sign blinked in bright neon blue.

"Be right back.'

The night manager smiled at him as he walked inside.

"Are there no more rooms available? I was here a few hours ago, and the lot was nearly empty."

"A lot of people showed up last minute for the Crawfish Festival this weekend. All booked up."

"Do you have a rollaway bed I can rent for my room?"

"We're all out, unfortunately. Rented the last one two hours ago."

"Okay, thanks."

He stepped back in the car.

"Looks like you'll be bunking with me. No extra rooms available. Crawfish Festival going on."

Jess palmed her forehead. He drove to find parking on the side of the motel near the garbage dumpster. She moved slowly when he opened her passenger door. He held her purse for her as she limped out. Her color had drained from her cheeks, and she pushed back her hair.

He opened the motel door, and the room was warm. Flicking on the air conditioning, he guided Jess to the bed.

"I'll loan you a shirt and some shorts. Maybe you should take a shower to feel better?" he suggested.

Jess looked down at the king-sized bed. He grabbed the extra blanket in the closet along with the clothes to change into.

"You can put this blanket down the middle as a divider…y'know…if you want."

"We're adults. It's fine. Thanks for the clothes."

She took them and went into the bathroom.

"Need help with the water?" he called out.

He worried about her still being unbalanced and cracking her head open.

"I got it."

The shower water ran.

He pulled out some sweats to sleep in and turned on the TV, waiting for his turn to shower. Plopping a seat on the bed, he watched an old movie. Jess came out wearing his clothes with her own bundled up against her chest.

"I used some of your mouth wash since I don't have a toothbrush," she said.

"That's fine. Drink some of the bottled water I have over there."

She glanced over at the six-pack he bought in town and took one. He entered the bathroom and let lukewarm water rinse him well before lathering up. Exhaling deeply, he let the day run down the drain. Drying off, he pulled on his sweats and night shirt.

Jess tucked herself under the covers. The extra blanket sat on the chair.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He adjusted the air conditioner temperature and turned off the lights.

"TV remote is on your side. You can watch what you want," he said.

He climbed in on his side of the bed and the space between them was wide enough for two strangers rooming together. Jess turned the sound down and he set the alarm on his phone.

"Night," he said.

"Night."

He turned on his side. His stomach was jumpy and the self-awareness about being in bed with her kept him awake.

The TV droned on for an hour and he yawned. He dozed off. A woman in a movie wept, and he wondered what Jess watched. The weeping went on for a minute longer, even after a commercial came on. He sat up and looked over at Jess.

The crying came from her.

She left the remote in the middle of the bed. He muted the sound.

"Jess? What's wrong?"

Her body shuddered while faced away from him.

"Jess?"

He gently pulled her to his side. Wet eyes peered up at him.

"I feel so bad for you," she huffed out, choking on the last word before scrunching up her eyes.

Her head fell against his chest, and he held her close.

"I'm sorry for everything, Terry…so sorry…"

She sobbed and he let her get it all out. He stroked her hair.

"All we can do now is get this information from Zeb, Jess. We're taking steps to get Mike justice. You're helping me. Hold on to that and nothing else in the past."

"I didn't trust you…I didn't act soon enough…I just…I failed you as a citizen."

"Chief Burnne failed me and you. Alright?"

She hid her face from him, too full of shame. He tilted her chin up and forced her to look at him.

"I hold nothing against you, Jess. I swear. You were one woman up against an office full of sketchy men. Once you knew the deal, you acted on my behalf. I'm still here because of you. Remember that."

He used his thumb to wipe away the tears that pooled under her lids.

"You saved me," he whispered.

He kissed her forehead to reassure her. She trembled and sighed with relief.

"Get some sleep," he said.

He continued holding her, allowing his body to enjoy her warmth and softness under the covers. She reached up and ran the back of her hand down his cheek.

"Thank you," she said.

This time, she kissed him. Pried his lips open with her tongue. The full weight of her breasts pressed into his chest. He gave her back the rising passion in his mouth that she shared with him. Something ignited in her and their long, wet kisses seemed to go on forever. He slanted his head to taste her mouth deeper and went against his better judgment by palming her breast. There was so much to hold. He played with her nipple until it stiffened in the borrowed shirt. The need to see them overpowered him.

"Take this off," he said.

He didn't have to ask twice.

Jess pulled it over her head and, with the light of the TV, she revealed to him the full glory of her breasts. His dick twitched in his sweats. He cupped both of them with his hands and lowered his head to suck on them, groaning as he did so. His dick hardened so quick listening to her soft pants. She raked her nails over the back of his neck. He sucked and played with her nipples, putting as much titty in his mouth as he could, stretching it wide. His dick started leaking pre-cum. He could feel it sliding down his hip.

He pulled the covers down from her body and then reached over to turn a lamp light on. He wanted to see everything. Her breasts were better than he imagined. Sizeable reddish-brown areolas. Plump nipples. She noticed the tent in his gray sweats…and the pre-cum stains soaking through.

"Can I eat your pussy?" he asked.

"Yes."

He groaned so loud, grateful that she gave him consent to taste her. She shimmied out of his basketball shorts, and the puffy roll of flesh across her belly made him happy. He tugged on it and moaned when he saw how fat her vulva was under it. She shaved herself closely down there and he could already see the pink inner folds glistening from between the puffy outer lips. He slapped her vulva playfully and sought her clit that already retracted from its hood, looking like a tiny pink diamond all exposed. His mouth watered, and a bit of clear saliva flew out.

She laughed at him, and he grinned, wiping his lips.

"Can't help it. Look how pretty this pussy is," he said.

He pushed her fat thighs back. She opened up to him like a pink rose in bloom, the soft pubic hairs already sticky near the inner labia. Shucking off his sweatpants, he lowered his face and feasted on the most succulent pussy he ever had in his life.

Jess moaned his name and told him to eat her pussy good. She started whimpering when he watched her face while he sucked, licked, and kissed the pussy he craved all night. He knew how to work his eyes whenever he ate a woman out. They melted every time. Jess was no different, however, he felt different doing it this time. She made it feel more erotic with her loving gazes and the soft sighs of his name falling from her lips. He spit on her folds and licked his tongue all around her sensitive parts, paying attention to the delicate clit. She was ultra sensitive, and her legs trembled every time he licked circles around it or kissed it. His lips were sticky with her slickness. He rose to suck on her tits again. They spread some on her chest and the volume pleased him. Backshots with her would look so pretty with her tits smacking together.

His dick bobbed and her eyes looked excited to see what he was working with. He was girthy and above average, and if her pussy felt as good as it looked, he was going to bust a tsunami in her. Kissing along her neck, he nibbled on her earlobe and whispered in her ear.

"We can go as far as you want. You tell me what you want, Jess."

She moaned and threw her hands around his neck.

"I want that big dick," she panted.

"I can put it wherever you want," he teased in her other ear, "Your pretty mouth, all in that fat pussy," he moaned.

He gently rubbed two fingers on her clit as he spoke. She arched her back. He glanced over at the closet. Had he known they would get into it, he would've pulled some condoms out earlier.

"I have condoms," he whispered into her mouth with urgent kisses, letting her taste her pussy.

She nodded. He jumped off the bed and fetched two. Sitting on the edge, he started tearing the gold foil packaging open, but she slid down to the floor and engulfed his dick with her hot mouth, making his fantasy come true. She wedged his thick dick between her breasts, rubbing and sucking him off.

"Oh…shit…." he mumbled.

"You like that, Daddy?"

He could barely see the tip of his dick. Her big tits swallowed his length. Pre-cum spilled out, adding more lubricant.

"You gonna let me fuck that pussy?" he asked, just to make sure it was all good.

She slid her tongue across the tip of his dick and spit on the slit like the nasty girl he needed. Jess nodded and he fisted her hair, pulling her head back so they could make deliberate eye contact.

"Tell me," he said.

He put some extra bass in his voice. She gave him a sly grin, and that dimple melted him.

"I want you to fuck me until the sun comes up," she said.

Say less.

Terry lifted her up and tossed her on the bed, ripping the condom open with his teeth.

Part 5 Soon Come...

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#terry richmond #rebel ridge #terry richmond smut #terry richmond fanfiction #rebel ridge fanfiction #Aaron Pierre #Terry Richmond X Jess Sims #Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica Sims #Terry Richmond x Plus-Sized Heroine #Spinning the Block #Uzumaki Rebellion #If Rebel Ridge had a sequel this would be it

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uzumaki-rebellion · 15 days ago

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Spinning the Block Part 3

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica "Jess" Sims

Warning(s): 18+ Animal violence (hunting)

Summary: Jess tries to avoid running into Terry again, but a tip given to her may reveal who killed Mike in prison.

Word count: 4. 4K

"After all that we've been through

I know we'll make it,

I know the way

The question is it true

There is nothing we can't do

I see you along the way baby

The stillness is the move"

Solange – "Stillness is the Move"

Jess spread the bucket of corn on the cob that she soaked for a week on the ground. Dawn broke an hour earlier and the morning sky barely turned a pale peach to match the time of day. She kicked around the ears of corn that soured over time and spread a pungent odor in the air. The perfect bait for wild hogs that roamed on her granddaddy's land.

She lifted her high-powered Marlin 336 rifle onto her shoulder and carried the empty bucket away, stashing it behind a snag tree. Trudging past the bait, she joined up with her father and grandfather. Wild hog hunting had been passed down in her family for five generations. Her hunting knife rested against her right hip for dressing up game on site. Plenty of wild game thrived on the property — deer, turkey, raccoons, rabbit, alligator, wood ducks — but the Sims family loved some good feral hog meat.

Louisiana hog hunting required patience, a talent for shooting, and quick thinking on the spot. In the old days, her grandfather Hebert used trained hunting dogs with her father, Jermaine, and her three uncles. The dogs had all died off over the decades except for a ten-year-old brown and black hound dog named Redbone, the last of his lineage. Jess lived with Redbone and Hebert on the property. Ever since she lost her job with the police department because of its shut down over Terry's case, Hebert's house became her refuge. She took care of him, and he gave her shelter from financial ruin.

Redbone, blind in one eye, rested near Hebert's feet behind the camo netting they used to blend into the surroundings. Hebert stretched his legs in a folding chair and peered out into the trees with his binoculars. His lank gray hair looked thinner pulled back in a long ponytail that touched the middle of his back. She noticed the once sallow coloring of his fair skin had improved. His health hadn't relapsed since she'd been home most days while unemployed. Rheumatoid arthritis wore on him before. Perhaps her presence energized him. He had his good days and bad days with pain in his hands and feet. But today was a good one. Hebert could bend his fingers and shuffle his feet along without wincing.

The hogs roused up early in the morning and stayed active, openly, until full light. Hebert wanted to participate in the hunting, and Jess worried that a long outing would bother him. She found a doctor that prescribed marijuana usage to help his pain management, and since she no longer worked, he shared his weed with her on some nights when inflammation got bad. He toked on a little before they left the house. It pleased her that the effects lasted.

Jermaine nudged the drag sled prepared to haul the meat out.

"We'll probably need to take down about three or four…if we're lucky," Jermaine said.

"We're in the best hotspot, Daddy," Jess said.

Jermaine patted her shoulder and slid his hunting goggles down over his eyes. The feral hogs on their land were invasive, and the state welcomed hunters culling their populations. Hebert often gave permission to outsiders to come on their land to hunt for a small fee. He already allowed loggers to remove walnut trees annually for extra income. Any money he made from those two ventures he split among his children and used the rest to pay his property tax.

They perched quietly behind their camo netting for four hours. Jess noticed Redbone's nose twitching, and she slid her wrap-around shades on and peeked through her telescopic sight. Four rotund hogs barreled into view, chomping down on the corn.

Jess lined up her shot. Unfortunately, the wind shifted slightly, blowing their scent toward the animals. A mottled pink one caught the odor of human and hound, alerting the others.

BLAM!

Jess and Jermaine blasted the brains of two hogs, causing the others to scatter. They both used their levers to reload and popped off two more rounds. Jess downed another hog while her father clipped the shoulder of the one he aimed for. Jumping out from behind the camo, Jermaine went after the injured hog to finish it.

"Daddy! Watch out!"

Another aggressive hog appeared from out of nowhere and charged Jermaine. Jess shot it behind the ear, and it dropped a foot away from her father.

"Getting slow," Jess teased.

"Some good shootin', Jess," Hebert called out.

"Learned from the best," she said, and winked at him.

Jermaine killed the injured hog, and Jess dragged over the sled. Her father was a big, muscular, cornbread fed man, and he used that strength to drag two hogs onto the sled. She packed up the camo net and grabbed the bucket.

"Grandpa, I'll get the chair in a minute. You just relax," Jess said.

Redbone jumped around being frisky and followed Jess behind her father. They trudged along the wooded area until they reached Jermaine's truck. She helped him lift each hog onto the truck bed and they headed back to Hebert and repeated the process two more times. Hebert admired the hundreds of pounds of fresh meat piled on the truck.

"Gon' be some good barbecue," Hebert said.

Back home, Jermaine and Jess set about cutting up the meat behind the house. They donned protective covering and surgical gloves to prevent bacterial contamination.

After gutting the pigs, Jess and her father strung them up under their hunter gazebo. Herbert added salt to three large coolers half filled with ice on standby. Jermaine would transfer the meat to his house and a few others covered in the ice, and Jess's mother would prep their share for the big Saturday cookout.

Jess used her big knife to skin the carcasses, and then she dove right in to carve out sections of meat. She deboned joints, cut off shoulders, back strap, ham parts, hocks, and kneckbones. She used a smaller knife to work on the tenderloin parts and ribs once they moved the rest to a work table nearby. The pigs were too lean to carve out bacon, so she worked efficiently to get as much useful meat as possible off the carcass. Jermaine used a lopper to snap apart larger bones, joints, and the heads when needed. It took them about an hour to cut and quarter the various parts needed for Saturday. The rest would go into a deep freezer for winter soup beans and stews. Her father would drop off the unused parts at a rendering plant to be turned into fertilizer. It was a good day of hunting.

She cleaned up the gazebo and work table and then took a shower. Hebert caught up on his marathon viewing of Law & Order episodes in the livingroom. She fixed him an early dinner of baked sweet potato with turnip greens and fried catfish, placing it on a TV dinner tray in front of his recliner. Sitting near him on the couch, she ate with him and quietly watched cops go after bad guys. After Terry's case, Jess couldn't watch the show the same way again.

Terry.

Jess nibbled on her catfish. Was he still in town? She planned on staying away from the town square. No need to tempt fate and run into that man again. He was a past that needed burying.

The landline rang, and Jess answered it. Her friend Melody sounded breathless.

"Jess…girl…come on down to the Pit with me and Alexa tonight. It's Ladie's night and free cover. Alexa doesn't have to work tomorrow, so she's up for some drinking and dancing."

Jess glanced at her grandfather.

"Who is it?" he asked.

Jess covered the mouthpiece.

"Melody wants me to go down to the Pit tonight with Alexa."

Hebert waved his hand.

"Go on and get outta the house. Do you some good to be out with your girlfriends. I'll be okay by myself."

"You sure?"

"I got Redbone with me."

"Promise not to overdo it on the weed?"

"A man runs out of his house naked one time, and now his granddaughter can't trust him to be by hisself," he grumbled.

Jess giggled.

"Okay, I'm in," she said into the phone.

"Oh, good! Dress real cute, because you know Zion is on the prowl for you."

Jess sucked her teeth.

"I wish y'all would stop tryna fix me up with that man."

"Girl, do you know how hard it is to find a fine man that's single, child-free, and looking to settle down right away? He's had his eye on you for the longest."

"With all that's been going on with me, I don't see how he could be interested."

"Jess, hush, now. All that shit is over and done with. Time for a new start… and time for you to throw your hat in the ring before he gets snatched up. Be ready by seven thirty. Cover is free until nine. We get there early and we can get a good booth seat by the dance floor."

"Alright. I'll be ready. But I'm driving there myself."

She hung up and sighed.

"You don't sound excited," Hebert said.

"It's a setup. They're tryna get me with Zion."

"Zion is a nice fella. Decent family. I know his grandfather real well. You not interested in dating?"

"People think partnering up with somebody is going to make me happy now that I'm not working. I need a job, not a man."

"Zion makes good money down at the plant. Let a man spoil you a little bit if he wants to. You ain't gotta marry him or nothin'."

"You right, Granddaddy. You right. I just don't want to feel pressured about it, like I can't get a man on my own…if I wanted one."

She lifted his empty plate and glass from his tray.

"You want anymore to eat?"

"Nah, I'm full. That was a tasty dinner. Thank you."

She picked up her empty plate and piled it on his. While washing dishes in the kitchen, she thought of what to wear.

The Pit smelled like perfumed sweat and chicken grease, a thick country kind of odor that lingered in the air. Jess didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. She flat ironed her hair so that it looked long and silky falling down her back, but by the time she got inside the jumping club, her edges curled back because of the heat. A live band kicked up some fiery zydeco music, and she danced with several men before taking a breather at a booth seat with her friends. Several men bought them drinks, and Jess sulked a bit when she didn't find Zion anywhere. All that talk about him seeking her affections by her friends didn't pan out. She twisted her hair into a high bun and sipped on some bourbon. Revealing some cleavage kept plenty of other suitors barking up her tree.

Shelby Springs men loved big women. The more rolls on the belly and back, the better, too. The women were known to be talented cooks in the kitchen and in the bedroom, and southern Black Creole men had a predilection toward securing one and wifing them up. They liked buxom chests, real asses, and lively personalities.

Jess knew she was a catch.

Men eyed her up and down the moment she walked in the door, displaying her wares and swinging her hips from east to west. Tight booty-hugging jeans. Low cut V-neck top with her good strapless push-up bra. High heel ankle boots gave her extra va-voom. Her breasts were always her best lure, and then the men noticed she had a pretty face to match all the big girl curves. Pear-shaped with a short waist, Jess could use her front and back to attract dance partners.

The Pit was full of Black Creoles and Black Cajuns. There's no real hardcore distinction between the two in Jess's mind. After hundreds of years, they were all a big pot of gumbo culturally. Most of the Black Cajuns descended from the French Canadians that migrated to Louisiana from Acadie. Her great-grandfather used to tell Hebert stories about their white side. That's how Jess learned that Acadians were referred to as 'cadians by English speakers in Louisiana that eventually mutated into 'cajuns'.

The Black Creoles had immigrant French and Italian roots from Europe with some Indigenous heritage that spread out from New Orleans. Many of the Black Creoles had bloodlines all the way from Haiti. Out of the two, Creoles were the wilder by far because they had liberation DNA encoded in them from their African and Native ancestry. There was something about that Black and Red mix that stood out sometimes. Whenever Jess had to be called out as a cop to break up fights or do a welfare check, she could tell how things would go down by the ancestry. Black Cajuns valued communication first before they went off…but the Creoles? Pfft. Those negroes were cayenne pepper. Fists first, questions last.

Terry Richmond was definitely a Creole.

Jess chugged down her drink. The man lingered in her mind like a severe headache. He hugged her, and she knew what those muscles felt like now…the same ones that beat the ass of nearly a dozen men in front of her without using a gun. Pure Creole fury.

He smelled good, too.

Jess stood and walked around with Melody and left their two other friends, Patricia and Alexa, to watch their purses and seats. She tapped her feet to the hot, rambunctious music and searched around for another dance partner.

A man at the bar kept staring at her. He had a lean, rawhide build and purposely kept his baseball cap low on his face to obscure his eyes. Every few seconds, he glanced over at Jess. She sensed he wasn't interested in dancing or checking her out sexually. He studied her. She moved away to see if he would follow, and he did. She positioned herself behind some tall men near the end of the bar, facing the dance floor. Melody went to the restroom, and Jess waited for her. Right when Melody came back, a cute short king grabbed her hand to dance and pulled her away from Jess. Zion appeared then, and Jess forgot all about the man with the cap.

"Where you been?" Jess asked.

Zion grinned, flashing her big teeth. A husky man nearly six feet tall, he had rugged good looks and a flirtatious voice that sounded playful in her ear. Sweat shined up his dark brown skin. A crisp new haircut and fancy fits helped him stand out from the crowd, especially his gator skin boots.

"I've been looking for you, sweet thing," he uttered with sly charm.

"That's what I hear."

"What we gonna do about it, then?"

Jess grabbed his hand and dragged him out to the center of the dance floor, hugging her body tight against his as the ricochet of silver spoons dragging across a metal washboard and a reedy accordion squeezed by a heavyset man singing in French Creole controlled their spinning and grinding in time to the music. Jess snaked her hips and Zion swiveled his. The heat of her crotch rested on his thigh as they wiggled down to the floor and back up, the old school French La La music of her granddaddy's day pushing them to go faster and faster. Zion swung her out in a catch and release move and they yelled their delight at being alive in a sweltering club. God, it felt good to dance her blues away!

They stayed on the packed dance floor for three full songs until Jess begged for a break in her boots. She grabbed her purse and took a breather outside. A quick call on her smartphone reassured her that her grandfather was tucked in bed for the night. He told her not to come home early if she didn't need to, hinting that it was okay to hook up with Zion if she wanted.

She hung up and wiped perspiration from her brow, and noticed the reflection of the strange man behind her from the car window. Digging into her purse, she pretended to put her phone away and reached for her nine millimeter handgun to scare him. He caught her in the blind sight of the club, where no one would see or hear them by the SUV. She spun around and aimed it at his chest.

"The fuck are you following me for?" she barked.

The man held his hands up.

"Easy…I just want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Terry Richmond."

She narrowed her eyes. Kept the gun on him.

"What about him?"

"I know who you are and I know what those cops did to him…and his cousin."

The man glanced around to make sure no one heard them.

"I have some information and know who killed Mike Simmons. I was at the prison where he was murdered."

Jess drew in a sharp breath.

"You betta not be fucking lying."

"I'm not. I also know the location of the weapon that was used on him. Hid it myself."

"Where?"

"We can't talk here. I'll meet you somewhere safe. You choose where. But I'ma need some money for the information to help me get outta town. It'll be too dangerous for me to stay here once I tell you."

"There's always some catch involving cash."

"It is what it is."

"How much?"

"Ten thousand dollars."

Jess rolled her eyes.

"You think I'm supposed to pay you that?"

"Not you…him. I know he's in town. I saw you with him."

She kept the gun on him and pulled out her cell.

"Give me your number."

"225-342-6863"

She typed and then glared at him.

"What's your name?"

His eyes diverted toward noisy patrons leaving the club in the opposite direction.

"Zeb Chapman."

Jess took a long, hard look at him.

"Zion's brother? How long have you been out of prison?"

"Eighteen months."

She relaxed and put away her weapon. Slinging her purse across her shoulders, Jess stared at him, full of curiosity.

"Call me and tell me where to meet you, Jess. I swear this ain't no con. I shouldn't even be seen with you. If they know I contacted you, they'd kill me."

"They?"

Zeb's jittery moves let her know he was truly nervous.

"Call me."

Zeb scurried back into the club. Jess stood next to her car to gather her thoughts. She assumed the "they" Zeb mentioned must've been the gangsters that had it out for Mike for snitching on a mob boss back east. It was the main reason Terry was vigilant about getting his cousin's bail. An uncomfortable tightness clenched her stomach. She called Melody on her phone.

"Where are you?" Melody squeaked, with the feisty zydeco music cracking in the background.

"I have a headache and went to my car. I'm going to head home early."

"Okay, call me and let me know you made it home safe. Are you good to drive?"

"I'm fine."

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well. Zion is looking for you."

"Tell him I'll catch him on the dance floor another time."

"Will do."

Jess dug into her purse again and pulled out a business card at the bottom. Terry's motel number was a few touches away on her phone. It might be too late to call. Plus, she didn't want him to have her number. She could just drive over there, knock on his door, and give him the information directly. He could pass it off to the authorities and she could wash her hands of the whole thing.

She popped open the trunk and rummaged around for something else to put over her top. Just a gray long-sleeve shirt sat under a pile of plastic recycled shopping bags. She glanced around and quickly yanked off her sexy top and traded it for the gray shirt.

Loading the GPS with the motel address, Jess quelled the anxiousness rising in her chest. Her Durango rode smoothly on the highway and she arrived at the rinky-dink establishment in less than twenty minutes. She parked at the far end of the guest parking and watched the property. Terry's room was the middle one on the bottom floor. The outside light was on and the curtains were drawn. She couldn't tell if the indoor lights were on because the curtains looked dark and heavy. Debating to get out or not, Jess sat in the SUV for half an hour, mustering up the guts to face him. Eventually, she hopped out and strode toward his room.

She knocked on the door and waited.

Knocked again.

No answer.

She closed her eyes, thankful that he wasn't there. It would be better to deal with everything in the morning with the soothing light of day. She turned to go back to her vehicle and bright headlights blasted her eyes. A car pulled in front of the empty parking space facing Terry's door. Summer and Terry stared at her in surprise. They both stepped out of Summer's car and faced her.

"Hey," she said.

Terry's lips quirked up into a half smile. The whites of his eyes looked pink under the overhead light of his room. But the green stayed intense…probing. He had a way of looking at people that unraveled them. Jess glanced at Summer.

"Summer was dropping me off," Terry said.

"Yeah, we just had dinner…dropping him off for the night," Summer said.

Terry took in her uneasy stance. It was after eleven at night. He turned to Summer.

"Thanks for a great meal, and the ride back," he said.

"No problem. Talk to you another time. Before you leave."

Summer awkwardly looked at Jess.

"Good seeing you, Jess."

"Yeah."

"Night y'all," Summer said.

She climbed into her car and drove off. Terry used a motel card to slip inside the door handle slot of room six instead of five. An audible click sounded off, and Terry opened the door wide.

"Come in," he said.

He reached inside and flicked on a light. Jess walked in before he did. Everything in the simple room was neat and undisturbed.

"Sit," he said, offering her the only chair in the room.

He sat on his bed.

"There's no air conditioning in room five. It broke before I went to dinner with Summer, so the manager switched me into this room. I'm glad you showed up. I had no way to contact you about the change. What brought you here so late?"

"A man approached me outside of a club tonight. He's been watching me and said he knows who killed your cousin. He wants to meet in a safe place."

Jess watched the information spread across Terry's features like water rippling across a pond. His eyes bore into hers like a sun blazing through a magnifying glass, causing her to shift uncomfortably in her seat and dart her gaze elsewhere. Like the wall to her right.

"Who is he?"

"He claims to have been in the prison with Mike when it happened. He's scared, and he also wants you to pay him ten thousand for the information."

Terry bolted from the bed.

"Take me to him right now."

He loomed over her, and those damn eyes rooted her to the chair.

"Jess…take me to him."

It was a stern command.

She jumped up.

"I'll give you his number—"

"If he's still at the club, you know what he looks like and can point him out to me. I need to talk to him tonight."

"It might spook him. He said he'll be in danger once he tells you. The money is for his escape from town."

Terry walked around the bed and pulled open the closet door. He dug into a suitcase, pulling out a fresh shirt. He took off the one he had on and replaced it with a form-fitting black shirt that fit his chest like new skin. Jess averted her gaze. His dark chinos and stylish black Moschino boots didn't need changing. He tucked a pair of shades into his shirt.

"C'mon…you drive," he said.

She couldn't protest. The determination in his face and steps forced her to comply and follow him.

Outside, she led him to her Durango.

"He might be gone already."

"Then we'll call him if he is."

She drove him in silence and slid into a parking spot not too far from her original one earlier. He climbed out and she walked to the back of her SUV. She opened her trunk and picked up her sexy top.

"Turn your head, please," she said.

Terry looked away, and she pulled off the long sleeve shirt, switching back to her previous top. She adjusted it and smoothed back her hair. He turned back around and her stomach filled with butterflies. Her cleavage worked its magic despite the circumstances, and Terry showed his hand by glancing at her breasts. He threaded his fingers with hers and tossed his shades on, pulling her toward the club entrance.

"Once we get inside, you play it cool. Understand? We're just on a night out together. When you spot him, whisper in my ear," he said.

The words flew right over her head. His hand was gentle, yet strong, holding hers. She could feel underboob sweat breaking out on her breasts. They reached the front entrance, and Jess took a deep breath. Terry squeezed her hand, reassuring her, and they stepped inside together.

Part 4 HERE.

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Tag List:

@nahimjustfeeling-writes

@planetblaque

@kindofaintrovert

@thedondada05

@blackburnbook

@avoidthings

@slutsareteacherstoo

@nayaesworld

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#terry richmond #rebel ridge #terry richmond fanfiction #rebel ridge fanfiction #Terry Richmond x Jess Sims #Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica Sims #Terry Richmond x Black Plus-Sized Heroine #Uzumaki Rebellion #Spinning the Block #Aaron Pierre #Terry Richmond Smut

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uzumaki-rebellion · 15 days ago

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Soon come...

Summary:

Terry and Jess stake out a zydeco club searching for the man who can help them find Mike's killer. Their relationship shifts soon after.

#terry richmond #rebel ridge #terry richmond fanfiction #rebel ridge fanfiction #Aaron Pierre #Terry Richmond x Plus-sized Heroine #Terry Richmond x Jess Sims #Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica Sims #Uzumaki Rebellion

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uzumaki-rebellion · 3 months ago

Text

Spinning the Block (Prologue)

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica "Jess" Sims

Summary: Terry relives his final moments in Shelby Springs.

youtube

"I got no time for compromise

Don't bother me

You're all the same, just a bunch of lies

O can't you see?"

Bad Brains—"Don't Bother Me"

Adrenaline rushing through Terry's body didn't help the bloody shotgun wound in his side from clotting up.

He drove as fast as he could on a blown tire with a wounded officer bleeding out from his femoral artery right next to him. Officer Marston's lips turned blue, and his pale skin looked clammy and cold. Behind Terry's seat, drugged out of her mind, Summer McBride cowered and whimpered. All three knew that an abrupt ending to their lives loomed on the horizon.

He crossed over the grassy highway divider, trying to keep control of the car as the blown tire hindered their progress getting to the hospital. It kept pulling to the left, and he fought with the steering wheel. The flopping sound of the tire remains striking the road and the loud thunk of the rim grinding on pavement reverberated in his teeth. He felt every vibration, bounce, and grind, but he willed the vehicle to hold on a few miles more.

He glanced at the passenger seat. Marston clung to life, riding on the fuel of fear and imminent death. The officer twisted the channel on the police radio. More trouble raced in their direction. Two police vehicles screeched behind him and stayed on his ass.

Chief Burnne's black unmarked police truck blew past him, slowing down Terry's momentum. This was it. He glanced at Summer in the rearview, and her forlorn expression had gone past giving up hope. The thought of losing her daughter shined in tear-streaked eyes.

A familiar Crown Vic zoomed along his left flank. His intense jade eyes locked on Officer Jessica Sims' hardened gaze. They stared at one another for only five seconds, but each second stretched into every minute he interacted with her from the beginning.

At the start of his horrific journey in Shelby Springs, he originally thought Officer Sims was the only bright light of hope to clear up the transgressions against him. Most of his family believed in ACAB all day, but he was a former marine vet who tried to have some understanding of why his own people tried to work within the system. Hell, he once trained marines to uphold American values and protect American citizens. He approached Officer Sims with that energy, a kindred spirit trying to do right by fellow citizens as a Black American.

She played everything by the book from jump, and the way her eyes looked at him with compassion made him think she would do the right thing by him.

Fool him once.

Dassit.

Still, she followed the rules like he did with his former work, believing in a righteous chain of command. Unfortunately, she seemed clueless to what her department had been doing for a few years with all the civil forfeitures. Or maybe she was in on it. Perhaps turned a blind eye to keep her job and not get bullied by all the men on her squad. No matter, in the end, she chose a side.

The wrong one.

His eyes narrowed, and he glared at her with the disappointment of a thousand Black ancestors witnessing yet another betrayal by one of their own. In another time or place, he might've asked her out for drinks and dancing at a zydeco bar he frequented. She was the type of woman he liked, big-boned and plush all over. Not easily pushed around. Built for a large man like him. Yeah buddy, if none of this small town racist bullshit had popped off, Terry would've scooped that pretty woman up and sweet-talked her into letting him drop the hammer on that ass. Alas…

Officer Sims turned her gaze forward. He braced for impact because he knew she was going to jack them up and get them killed. Sometimes Black people were their own oppressors when they believed in the American lie. Justice didn't come to his people, and that Black woman didn't care.

Wayment.

Sims gunned the cruiser ahead of him. The police radio crackled with the voices of the cops behind him.

"Looks like she overshot…we got a ticking clock here… give it another go or I'll do it myself here…" a cop droned with a nasal drawl.

Sims clipped the left side of Chief Burnne's vehicle and he veered off to the left. Her cruiser flew off the road, barely missing a tree.

"Great shot… we're 10-59," the cop behind them said.

"What's a 10-59?" Terry asked.

Marston mustered what energy he had left and said, "That's an escort."

One of the cop cars behind him gassed it to the front of Terry. Protection.

Summer wept behind him and Marston passed out. Terry kept driving and praying it wasn't another trick. He had no patience for fuckery anymore. De-escalation had been his saving grace, but his remaining nerves were frayed and poised to explode. The weight of Mike's death hovered over his spirit.

He drove close to the hospital emergency room doors and leaped out of the police cruiser. The back left tire caught fire from the road friction. He ignored it. Summer opened the back passenger door. He lifted and carried her past the swooshing doors. Placing her on a gurney, he snatched up a fire axe he found inside the hospital and dashed back outside. He hurried to the police cruiser and popped the trunk from the driver's side. Glancing at the setup, he struck the dashcam recorder twice and yanked it out. Rushing back inside the hospital, his mind whirred with all the thoughts of what to do next. He would hold on to that dashcam until he had a lawyer present. All the truth rested within it. If he had to shed blood to keep it away from the Shelby Springs police department goons, he would go fucking Rambo on their asses.

The comedown hit him like a sledgehammer. Tears. Shouts of release. Everything he held inside to keep from snapping poured out. He watched more police arrive. Authorities from a different department bumrushed the hospital emergency entrance.

Chief Burrne's, handcuffed and bleeding through a bandage on his forehead, passed him by with Officer Sims escorting him to treatment. Terry clutched the dashcam to his chest, waiting for his representation to arrive. Several cops observed him from a distance.

He glanced up and Sims latched onto his gaze. Her soft brown eyes seemed full of regret and sympathy for his situation. She may have double-crossed him that one time, but the woman looking at him now simmered with self-doubt at her part in the entire fiasco. In the end, she did the right thing, saving their lives.

"Terry Richmond?"

An older white man in a crisply pressed gray suit approached him with another county deputy.

"I'm Lloyd Webber, your attorney. I've worked with Officer Marston."

Terry nodded, stood, and followed the man outside.

He glanced back at Officer Sims. Other cops surrounded her and asked questions. Terry wanted to wish her well with whatever happened next, but he had to focus on the dashcam evidence and get justice for his cousin, himself, and all those other people unjustly harassed and abused by the Shelby Springs Police Department.

One day, he would spin the block and see Jess again.

He needed answers and closure with her.

Part 1 HERE.

Masterlist

Tag List:

@nahimjustfeeling-writes

@planetblaque

@kindofaintrovert

@thedondada05

@blackburnbook

@avoidthings

@slutsareteacherstoo

@nayaesworld

@notapradagurl17

@4pfsukuna

@yamst3rdamctrl

@sweettea-and-honeybutter

@comfortzonequeen

@theereina

@brattyfics

@prettyisasprettydoes1306

@megane96

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@taurusqueen83

@mightbeher

@melaninpov

@carlakeks

@woahthatshitfat

@hrlzy

@theglamclosetsl

@liquorlaughslove

@teeresaresa

@cocoagadgetsworld

@mogul93

@helloncrocs

@dremmmm

@simplyzeeka

@pearlkitten33

@jas241

#terry richmond #rebel ridge #aaron pierre #terry richmond fanfiction #rebel ridge fanfiction #Jess Sims #Terry Richmond Smut #Terry Richmond x Jess Sims #Terry Richmond x Plus-Sized Black Woman #Uzumaki Rebellion #Spinning the Block

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uzumaki-rebellion · 3 months ago

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FYI:

I'm going to extend my Vampire!Terry fic drops a day after Halloween (All Saint's Day perhaps) because I started working on the new Terry fic "Spinning the Block" and got behind in writing. This is what happens when you write more than one thing at the same time! Anyhoo, I'm going to start dropping the new fic stuff after I finish the first Vampire! Terry book (listen...more ideas sprung and since that man won't be in the new Blade movie anymore---if that shit ever gets made--I want to keep playing with him as a vampire!)

"Spinning the Block" will be Dual POV, Plus-Sized Heroine (Jess), and full of smut/angst/romance/Black Cajun culture and semi-slow burn plot. It will take place a year after the events in the movie.

I want to start a tag list for the new Terry x Jess fic. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the comment section below! Please reblog if you can, would love to engage with more Terry Richmond reader fans!

Summary:

What happens when the man you once arrested returns to your troubled town seeking you out for closure after the death of his cousin? That's where Officer Jessica Sims finds herself after her past tumultuous run-in with Terry Richmond catches up to her.

#terry richmond fanfiction #Terry Richmond x Jess Sims #Spinning the Block #Uzumaki Rebellion #rebel ridge fanfiction #Aaron Pierre

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slutsareteacherstoo · 2 months ago

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I read this im the morning when i got the notification but i need you to see this TikTok comment (unless that was you lemme not blow up your spot) but 😭😭

You and your details!!! Imma come back to this cuz i need to reread but one thing about you gon give your characters dimension! Livia throwing that cake at the car and Terry holding her back. THATS VIVID from like my 5AM when i read it😭🫣

Spinning the Block Part 1

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica "Jess" Sims

Warning(s): 18+, Angst, Mentions of Racial Tension.

Summary: Jess Sims attempts to pay her respects.

Word count: 3.2K

youtube

"Turned into an inconvenience

You only want me when convenient

I know that I could probably block you

But for some reason, I wanna see you

And you know I give a damn about you

You got me sittin' here thinkin' about you

And how your name triggers all my emotions

Into my eyes, into an ocean"

Normani – "Insomnia"

Jessica Sims knew in her heart she had no right to be at Michael Simmons' mother's house.

Nothing worked.

That is…until Terry Richmond showed up.

Jess misread his intentions from the start.

So when Terry Richmond rode his fine ass into Shelby Springs, he was already a problem before Lann clipped him with the police cruiser.

When he sat down in front of her while she typed in his descriptions of who robbed him, his tone was confident. His demeanor crafty. She was shocked that he recorded their conversation, equally shocked by Chief Burnne's sudden aggression toward him. Lann was an asshole to everyone, overcompensating for some deep-rooted male insecurity. Her first thought was that the Chief might've known something about Terry that she didn't, and she expected to be filled in on the matter. Drug couriers were a thing within small towns, and it wasn't above suspicion that drug runners would use a decoy disguise to pretend they were regular citizens going about their day. She went back and forth in her mind about Terry's reason for carrying so much cash in a backpack on a bike. It looked and sounded suspicious, especially with the drug busts they'd done a few months previously on the bridge during a police chase. She had picked up her own distant white kin at his house, the run-down place full of meth and illegal fentanyl. Opioid use was up. Drug dealers were racking up millions transporting that cash economy and product across state lines in Louisiana grew. Chief Burnne's own nephew had died of a drug overdose ten years ago, so anything that had a whiff of drug activity got his hackles up.

It had all been a lie.

Chief Burnne's lie. His department…his rules.

Jess had been inadvertently complicit.

Jess listened well. Applied it to Terry.

"Hi..hello…hiya doin'?" she said, passing people she didn't know on the walkway to the house.

Mike's mother, Rosa.

"My condolences, Mrs. Simmons," Jess whispered.

She didn't want to bring attention to herself and stepped forward, past a throng of people carrying plates of sliced ham, potato salad, and baked beans.

"Thank you for coming…oh you brought something, how thoughtful."

Rosa stood up.

"I can take that," Rosa said.

"Ma'am, I can put it with the other food."

"Mm-hmm, yes, the dining room table is right back there. Did you go to school with my Michael?"

"No, ma'am. I knew him from somewhere else. I'll put this away."

"Okay, baby. Fix yourself a plate while you're in there."

"Thank you."

She pushed a crock pot of brown gravy aside to make room for her cake next to a half-eaten sweet potato pie.

"Who let this woman in here?!"

A light brown woman with soft, shoulder-length curls glared at Jess, her lips curled into an angry snarl. Everyone looked at Jess curiously, wondering what was going on.

"Mama! Who let this dirty cop into our house?"

Rosa rushed into the dining room. Jess held out her hands.

"I just wanted to give my condolences—"

"You're the reason my brother is dead! Who let her in? Who?!" Mike's sister screamed.

The anguish in her voice brought tears to Jess's eyes.

"I'm sorry…everyone, I'm sorry…Mrs. Simmons…"

"Jess!"

Terry's deep baritone called to her, and she pumped her legs faster. Reaching the car, she fumbled for her key fob and unlocked the SUV. She jumped in and Terry banged on her window.

"I'm sorry I came. I didn't mean to upset your family," she said, starting her vehicle.

"Roll down your window."

His commanding eyes stared right through her. She rolled her window down partially. Wiping tears away from her cheeks, she faced her front window, unable to look at him.

"I know it wasn't easy for you to come here."

She shook her head, and a violent sob choked her throat.

"Listen…give me your number. I'd like to speak with you about all of this… at a better time—"

"No…this was a mistake…I'm sorry…I have to go—"

"Fucking bitch!"

Mike's sister threw Jess's cake on the car. The Tupperware container burst open and the pound cake crumbled all over the hood.

"Livia! Stop!"

Terry walked toward his cousin, and she ran from him toward the sidewalk. Other family members had followed them to watch the scene. Jess's stomach sank to the floor of her car.

"You did this to Mike! You goddamn greedy cops sent my brother to die and I fucking hate you! Get outta here, you murdering bitch!"

She didn't hold back on crying, allowing her tears to wash away the shame and embarrassment.

She downed a half glass of Uncle Nearest whiskey and looked at her black dress. The audacity of her showing up in Greenwood thinking she could dip in and out without consequences.

Jess had to face her part in Terry's life being traumatized forever. Losing her job was a small price to pay for his lifetime of pain.

Jess curled into the fetal position and thought of Terry. Even in mourning, he looked handsome in his suit. For the first time in weeks, she fell into a deep sleep without having to use medication.

Taglist:

@nahimjustfeeling-writes

@planetblaque

@kindofaintrovert

@thedondada05

@blackburnbook

@avoidthings

@slutsareteacherstoo

@nayaesworld

@notapradagurl17

@4pfsukuna

@yamst3rdamctrl

@sweettea-and-honeybutter

@comfortzonequeen

@theereina

@brattyfics

@prettyisasprettydoes1306

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@honeytoffee

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@mightbeher

@melaninpov

@carlakeks

@woahthatshitfat

@hrlzy

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@liquorlaughslove

@teeresaresa

@cocoagadgetsworld

@mogul93

@helloncrocs

@dremmmm

@simplyzeeka

@pearlkitten33

@jas241

@leahnicole1219

@kaykay772

@juniperlovesstuff

@kingclementyne

@thickmadame

@onherereading

@daneiawrites

@hotgrlcece

@darqchilddaydreamz

@ariiijestertheklown

@blackerthings

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