Chapter Five Part 2

Briar's POV

The twitch of my nose lead me out the shower and to the kitchen of my mansion. Nothing too big, just my master bedroom, five guest rooms, one kitchen for my personal use, another kitchen for my chefs, a library, home gym, living room, reception area for events, five bathrooms, dining room, banquet room, meeting room, laundry room, storage room, a twelve car garage and four bedrooms for my future kids... 

At the rate that I'm going, they'll never be filled. He ain't giving me that fat cock much less kids. I giggled sadly, signing while reminiscing on our car ride stress relief session and dirty dancing with a bitter sweet smile. I bit my lip. Maybe I should help myself in the shower? No, twice was enough Jilling. I've already been in there an hour. 

I could hear music with a bit of humming as I peeped around the corner. Jethro was in boxers while preparing our meal dancing to the song from my kitchen stereo.

"That's my song. Bad bitch, I could be you fantasy. I can tell you got big dick energy." Damn right it does. I stared at the bulge in his boxers biting my finger. She crept in hugging him from behind. "Tell me how you want it."

"Briar what are you doing?" She stroked his bulge making him tense. 

"Feel good don't it?" 

"For you or me?"

"Both. I'm just being honest. You got me juicy."

He chuckled at her modified lyrics. "Spending Briar's, mine in the bank." He sang back. 

"Oh haha. And I have no problem with that because I'm open minded." I bumped and grinded up on him. I dropped to my knees pulling his boxers. "Unlike you every time I move low-key and try to rock that mic like karaoke." His cock was half way out. My stomach growled instigating an awkward silence that was swept away when we burst out laughing. 

"Come on, it's almost done." He helped me up. 

After we ate, we binged a few old movies then played videogames until it was pretty late in the evening. He wanted to show me what I was getting from the deal today which honestly wasn't too bad. I could see something potential for massive growth with the suggestions that he made on how it could improve and even be militarized.

The more he talked, the more I saw it, the glow in his brown eyes filled with the innocents of a child and even hope. Hope for mankind.

"Bri." He looked at the picture of a blue eyed man on a cross hanging in the corner of my living room. "Do you believe in God?"

I paused taken aback. "Hmm yes I believe there is a supreme being but do I think it's blue eyed Jesus over there? No not really."

"You think it's this new God that's changed our world and made it like this?"

"No, I mean how am supposed to believe that God was gangsta that had his eyes opened by a werewolf?" I went for the picture and the one beside it. "But I could be wrong. Blue eyed Jesus or the new God or something else that I didn't choose to put my faith could be right and by their laws I'll burn in hell. Or none are and I go to nothing."

"Doesn't that worry you?"

"It does but what can I do? I'll never know until I die so why worry. It's out of my control so I'll worry about what I can control which is to be a good person doing what I believe is right. If God decides that I should go to hell anyway then I accept my faith. Who am I to question God's judgment? 

"Then do you believe that he is all powerful and all good?"

I sat down. "That wouldn't make any sense. Firstly all powerful yes, but he can't be all good. He wouldn't allow anything bad if he was. Secondly he's done and allowed bad things to happen to his children before. But hey I could be wrong. What about you?" I gave him the other portrait.

"I believe that we were made in his image and were capable of both good and evil. Anything that we can imagine he can do that on a larger scale." He stared back and forth between me and it. "Was this you going to church?" 

"Yeah when I was eight. My mother is in the left and father on the right." 

He stared awkwardly again. "That's a black woman with a black family to the left and a white man with a white family to right." I shrugged. "I see people wearing jumpers, pickup trucks, straw-hat and pitchforks... You do know these people were racist?"

"Oh very much so. My parent's families hated each so much they literally united to stop my parent's shotgun wedding. Mom said that her aunt drove the pickup through the church. Dad had to drive her and the pastor out of there while taking their vows under gun fire. Literally a shotgun wedding." 

"Then how'd this picture get taken?"

"Well, because after I was born, I became to the soap that allowed water and oil to mix. When my mom's family saw me they said 'this ma grand baby? Lord... She got that good hair, not nappy at all. Look at that child's light skin! She got the skin to win!' My dad's family was all 'this ma goddamn granddaughter?! Whoo weee, little fucker got that permanent tan!"

He was on his back rolling before he asked." What happened to them?"

"They died when I was a teenager. They had been a struggling business couple that had been trying making it into the upper class, dying a year before there their business took off in the recession."

"Car accident?" His tone was more expectant than asking. I nodded and he pulled me into his arms which took me by surprise. I looked up questionably while pointing at his grind. "No I'm not horny. I'm hugging you because you seemed like you needed it."

I smiled leaning into his chest. It feels good here. I rest my eyes feeling at peace in his arms like I did when I was girl being held by my father. Most of my life I've been taken care of by others, so much so that I've never had to care for another living soul until my parents died though I've always wanted to.

What else would I want to do with myself when all I saw while I was growing up was my parents and relatives, yes the racists, try to take care of their own and their community even thought that led to people taking advantage of them, betrayal and their own demise.

That taught me two things. Only help other to an extent that won't be a detriment to you. And two, you can't help anyone if you can't help yourself first. Learning to fend for myself was a hard learning curb but I did it sacrificing everything in the now to get it all back in the future.

And here I am. A cup so full that I could give all away without a care. All of it, if it meant I could… stop being selfish me, you know you'd never be happy with him making a sacrifice like that.

I glanced up to his eyes in a daze. "What are you thinking?" I startled him. He's definitely not use to someone paying attention to him.

"Oh, I was just thinking about the recession. Isn't that when most businesses shutdown?"

"Yes, businesses from upper class especially fall prey to the recessions, but the lower class businesses that thrived through that horrible period? They'll take the place of the upper class businesses that failed."

I went on to tell him that I sold my parents business to pursue a higher education in business. Of how I finished college early with my masters then interned at the company that I am currently at. I worked my way up to where I am faster than anyone. 

He of course figures out that this company is the same one I sold and that I'm a shareholder with the intention of owning the business back my company in the near future. That's only natural since he is my star pupil. 

He worked directly for me for the beginning phase of his internship then decided to be like any other intern once he learned the basics of acquisition. He had a fierce reputation of being the master failure cause he made ever mistake in the book in the beginning.

But thanks to this he knows how to fix every mistake allowing him to be the star and leader of the interns who come to him to solve every problem too big for themselves. The master fixer.

How he does all that while attending morning lectures makes me nostalgic about my old days. His diligence and drive reminds me a lot about my younger self. Of course he has it harder since he has things to take care of in the lower class on weekends and after work on weekdays he comes home and takes away my stress as well.

The reason why I took time off work and he skipped class and didn't show up at work today under the excuse of me sending him out on assignment was just so he could take away my stress. 

His gripped my shoulders pressing his thumbs against my neck. My neck relaxed as I moaned and melt into his arms slithered down to my waist coming back up taking my shirt overhead. His hands caressed my skin before applying force on my shoulder. "So what about you Mr Jethro Julius. What happened to Mr and Mrs Julius?"

"Never knew a Mr Julius. Ms Julius when she came home from her fourteen hour job smelling like a pig was the only father I knew."

"What happened to her?"

"... She... She died from mechanical heart failure..."

My eyes popped with disbelief. Now though we live in a post-apocalyptic world, technology had progress to the point of having mechanical organs that were almost as efficient as natural organic organs but peeled in comparison to synthetic organs used in the military.

Although mechanical organs are easier to acquire in comparison natural and synthetic organs, cost the least of the three and I could buy one for myself with ease if need be is all true, but that's me. For a random woman from the lower class to have one inside her is beyond bazaar.

"Was your mother a failing business woman? Ex-military? Or maybe she got kicked out of a wealthy family from the upper class territory?"

"My mother wasn't any of that. She had no background. Literally. No money, no family, no identity, no nothing. She didn't even have all of her memories. It was as if she had fell out of the sky and landed in that junkyard where she had been living for seven months before they found her thanks to her screaming new born. Me."

He proceeded to tell me how they tried to sort her into The Class System. That is the system that governs this world that was imposed upon us by the new God. The system has two aspects. Biological classing and Social classing.

Social classing is obviously the divide between the upper class and lower class.

The Biological classing is based on genetic talent and is how everyone gets their names and is why everyone has alliterations for initials which tells you what their natural strengths are. Like how pre apocalyptic humanity believed in zodiac signs. An example is those with BB can easily develop fantastic memory, arithmetic skills and empathy.

His mother couldn't be sorted by the system so she was allowed to allowed to choose her initials as well as his since he couldn't be sorted either. And that's how he got his name. 

Now you're probably thinking why didn't the government step in or some other nefarious private organization to do experiments on her. Well that's because we don't really have any governments or any evil secret organizations. The leaders of humanity are all business tycoons who's the priority is protecting humanity from the creatures of the apocalypse through military funding. 

Some random woman with a unique genetic talent wasn't even on their list of concerns and thus she fell under the radar.

"What'd you do after she died?"

"That's when I... Fell in with... A bad crowd. And that's how I got this scar." He parted his hair revealing two massive red slash marks on his scalp. The sight made my blood run so cold I couldn't bare the sight of it. Such a horrifying scar that'd make a grown man shudders.