I am a writer. Been writing since grade school. Hopefully, it can take me somewhere. In any event, this is a one-shot I wrote about a show that is no longer on the air (due to the gayness that is NBC), The Black Donnelly's. It came about from a monthly challenge that was posed on one of the forums I am apart of. Fanfiction has never really been my forte but the challenge was to write something you've never written before so this was my attempt.
The Black Donnellys, about an Black Irish family in the area known as Hell's Kitchen, in New York.
If you've never seen the show and want to get a better grasp of what is going on in the story, you can catch the pilot episode on Youtube. This clip takes place right after episode 8: In Each One A Savior.
This fabulous banner is the work of TokenBlackGirl. Thank you so much for lending your extraordinary talents to my story!
As far as disclaimers go, I don't own The Black Donnelly's, but this particular storyline as well as Sia Gregory definitely belong to me :)
It was 'Family Above All' until she came along...
2007
Kevin sat back against the building’s railing, waiting. It was dark and desolate on the corner of 14th street and 10th Avenue. His hands in his pockets, he took in his surroundings: The highway, the bridge, gas station across the street. Everything seemed crisper, clearer. Having a death warrant over your head could do that.
As much as he liked to consider himself lucky, he wasn’t. It was his ‘luck’ that landed him in his grave. A winning bet placed on the phone of a murdered bookie, was how he landed himself in this hole. He should have listened to his older brother, Jimmy, and gotten rid of the phone when they dumped the body. He didn’t. The idea of having a bookie’s phone seemed too good to pass up. And that’s how Cottero figured out he was involved with Louie Downtown’s murder. He was the mysterious ‘Cloudy’ that owed him a g-note. But instead of getting paid, he got found out.
His day had officially ended in the shitter.
He looked at his watch again. It was almost eleven. He was tempted to pull out his phone and call again when he spotted her walking towards him. He’d never seen a walk like hers before. It was kind of hypnotic, seductive and made him think of things he really shouldn’t. Like that time he cornered her in the kitchen and buried his face between her—
“All right, Kevin.” She faced him. “What was so important that you insisted I meet you down here?”
Kevin pushed his hoodie off of his head and readjusted himself on the banister to keep hidden his semi-hard on, until he could get under control. But, damn if she didn’t look good.
“Hiya doin’, Sia?”
“Fine, once you tell me what I’m doing down here.” She was annoyed, not that she didn’t have a right to be.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“And you couldn’t do that over the phone because...?”
“Okay,” he tried again, “so I wanted to see you.”
Their relationship had never been about what other relationships had been about. They had gone to the same high school; were lab partners in chemistry. She’d saved his ass more than a few times since he never had enough of an interest in science to know what the hell was going on.
Mostly though, the girl knew how to gamble. Her luck, or instinct, as she called it, was unerring. For every bet he’d been wrong about, she’d been right on. It was like they were two sides of the same coin. Then again she was smart enough not to gamble. Risky ambition that it was.
But that was in the controlled environment of school, in science class, and whatever other classes they may have had together; a safe, controlled, environment.
Not on the outside, where things were different. Where people were quick to harp on them being different.
“To see me?” she shook her head with a humorless laugh. “I must have stupid tattooed across my forehead, if you want me to believe that one.”
She started to walk away but he grabbed the arm.
“C’mon Sia. Don’t do this.”
She yanked herself free and faced him.
“Don't tell me what not to do! You call me and brow beat me into meeting you on one of the most desolate streets in the city, just to see me?! I'm not playing this game with y—"
“You know I’m not into games.” Kevin spoke over her. He stepped closer, closing the space between them. “If there was anything, you know that.” Sia averted her eyes and breathed a sigh of reluctance. He sighed too. This was not how he wanted this to go.
“Just please, aright?” he tried again. “Don’t leave.” She didn’t move to leave immediately but Kevin could see she still toyed with the idea. “Ten minutes, okay? Just give me ten minutes then you're free to go.”
Okay, so maybe their relationship was like other relationships: He liked her, she liked him, and the first time he kissed her had been during his 11th grade year in the 3rd floor stairwell. He didn’t know what he was doing then, just like he didn’t know what he was doing now.
Sia looked at her watch to mark the time and squared her shoulders in acceptance. “Fine. Ten Minutes.”
She could really be a hard ass. Normally, he’d tell her to shove that shit but he was already on borrowed time, in more ways than one.
“So,” Kevin walked himself back towards the banister and sat down again. Sia moved with him but continued to stand facing him. “How ya been?”
“Good.” She put hands in the pocket of her cropped mesh motorcycle jacket. Her locks had grown longer since he’d last seen. Or at least it seemed that way. They were curly now too. Like a bunch of swiggly lines all drawn together.
“How’s ya mom?”
“She still hates you.”
He’d walked right into that one. Her mother didn’t care for him, much in the same way his family didn’t care for her.
“Yeah well,” he shrugged his shoulders, “the Donnelly Charm only works on certain Gregory women.”
She pursed her lips together to keep the hint of a real smile at bay. “Sweetie, you wouldn’t know charm, if it came and slapped you in the face.”
“Speaking of, how’s Marcus?”
It was true, he didn’t like any guy that hung around her too much or too closely. He was man enough to admit that, but that Marcus-guy…the visual of them together made Kevin see red.
“Still breathing, I last heard. He didn’t come back around after you handed his ass to him. ”
Kevin smiled at the memory of the pulp faced bastard. He even took pride in it. When he’d seen the damage that asshole did to Sia’s face and body, the relative cool he possessed flew out the window. The beating he put on him, made the one he and his brother’s handed to those drug dealers by the old flats look like child’s play.
Sia still carried a faint scare across the right side of her neck. His eyes were drawn to it and Kevin felt himself getting angry all over again. He really shoulda killed that guy.
“And Ian? How’s he?”
The somewhat jovial mood deteriorated. The faint of a smile she’d worn seconds ago, suddenly fell flat.
“Let’s not do this, Kevin. I’m not in the mood for this conversation or where it leads.”
“Just humor me, okay?” he pleaded. “I wanna know.”
She rubbed her hand over her face hesitantly. He could see her debating whether or not to answer his question. Arguments always ensued when they did. It was the price they paid for having a kid he could never publicly acknowledge.
“With all your talk about family, you know you could never bring home a brown skinned baby. Or even worse his darker skinned mother. There is no way in hell I’m gonna give my son that kind of complex.”
He hated that’d she’d been right. His family meant everything to him. He’d ended lives for the sake of his family. It was always ‘Family Above All.” But…they wouldn’t see Ian as one of them, as their family, all because he had the wrong skin color.
It was why he gambled so much. If he couldn’t acknowledge Ian as his, he at least wanted to give Sia money to help out. But he couldn’t even do that right.
“He’s good. Ten months and all. He's even trying to walk.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She answered with fondness she always did when she talked about their son.
It hurt he wasn’t around as much as he wanted to be. It hurt because in an ideal world he’d be there to put his son to sleep at night and wake up with him, with them, in the morning. But choices had been made and in the end it all worked out. At least as much as the present situation could be considered worked out. Besides, Sia never kept his son from him, or worse, used him as a tool against him like he’d seen happen to more than a few guys in the neighborhood. Whenever he called or just dropped by, Ian was always available to him.
“That’s good.” Sia never knew how precious those moments were to him. It was in those moments that he had everything he wanted. “Where is he now?”
“I dropped him off at my mother’s.”
That was another reason her mother didn’t like him. Well, that, the fact he’s white and she thought him to be the worst kind of hooligan. In the eyes of Diana Gregory, her daughter was too good for him. And him getting her pregnant ruined Sia’s life.
“Right.” He nodded. “See? No argument.” He held up his hand in surrender, lightening the mood.
“I see.” The sound of car approaching caught their attention and they both turned to take a look when her hair caught his attention again. It had grown even more than he’d originally thought. She usually wore it in some kind of ponytail, but seeing it down, it hung between her shoulders.
Giving into his temptation, he tugged on one to get back her attention. The feel of it against his skin felt like his favorite sweater.
“C’mere,” he grabbed the edge of her jacket pocket and pulled her toward him.
She didn’t move. “It’s getting cold, Kevin. And, “ she brought her wrist up to see her watch. “You have four minutes left.”
“C’mere,” he pulled her again. This time she went to him. His hand slid around her waist and to his surprise, she didn’t fight him. They were close enough that he could breathe in her sent. The one that smelled warm and enticing at the same time.
His green eyes bore into her brown ones before they fixated on her lips. He didn’t give into the impulse to kiss her. He wasn’t sure she’d let him, but he did have something to say. Pulling back a bit, he looked in her eyes again.
“I know I kinda dropped off the face of the earth for a while. I’ve had a lot goin’ on. But, um, I want you to know that you matter to me. You and Ian are important to me. ”
He’d never been that guy to say those three words. That had been one of their many problems. But since staring a painful death in the face, he was going to.
“I love you, Sia. That’s what I wanted to say to you. Face to face.”
She stared at him, shocked, as he moved closer to her. Slowly, his hand slid around her waist, under her jacket and shirt. Her breath caught when he gently kissed her cheek.
When he pulled back, she still looked confused. “Kevin—”
“Don’t worry.” He laughed her unasked question. “The world’s not ending. I just thought it’s time for me to say it.” He stood up off the banister and put his hand in his pocket. “I’m pretty sure my ten minutes are up now.”
He walked towards the busier street of Eleventh Avenue and whistled for a cab. When he turned back around, Sia was catching up. He held the cab door open for her and waited. She looked at him cautiously, still clearly confused.
“Get in.” She did and he closed the door. “70th Street and West End Avenue.” He told the cab driver.
Kevin watched the cab pull off, his chest constricting the farther it got away. He’d done the right thing though. Sia’s speechlessness told him that much.
He’d never love another.
For now, she was safe, as was their son. When this bullshit with Cottero was all said in done, there would still be a Donnelly out there.
And he’d brought a whole new meaning to the term, Black Irish.
2 comments:
Very, Very good!
as per usual, this was awesome. i never watched the show, but i remember being interested and when i looked for it, it was gone. smh, always happens with shows i like or gonna like. anyways, wonderful job, woman. love your stuff on TST, so it looks like i'll have to stalk you here too. lol.
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