Redemption
Copyright© 2016 by Bondi Beach
Chapter 13: Not an American
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 13: Not an American - The Senate minority leader, along with his lover, are found shot to death. Under pressure, a high school boy attempts to blackmail the president's older daughter with a sexually explicit video. The minority leader's wife, who has long shared her husband's opposition to the president in office, finds her own views changing. Ignoring her own safety to protect the daughter of a president whose policies she despises brings this jaded Washington operator a moment of stunning clarity. Brief violence.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Fiction Violence
Montana, back in the day
RAPTOR SLAMMED THE DOOR BEHIND her and threw her school texts on the kitchen table. She kicked her backpack to the side of the room.
“Fuck ‘em!”
“Daughter! Silence!”
Mother’s tone was unmistakable.
“I’m sorry, Mother. It’s just...”
“Just what, girl?”
Raptor took a deep breath and let it out. And another. Sighed.
“Mother, the kids at school. They hate me.”
“Why?”
Raptor was pretty sure her mother knew why but she answered anyway.
“Because I’m Chinese.”
“You are American. You were born here. Your father is American and so am I. Our families are from China, but we are Americans.”
Raptor sighed again. She stepped close to her mother and hugged her.
“I know, Mother, I know. But the kids hate me. They do.”
Even as she spoke Raptor knew it wasn’t only because she was Chinese-American. She and her sisters, one older, two younger, were known as brains, not a ticket to social acceptance in high school. They weren’t good enough in sports to make up for it and what student, really, cared what teachers thought? Aside from the suck-ups, of course.
Raptor sighed once more. “It just that I want,” she paused, “I want to belong.”
Her mother hugged her again.
“You belong to us, Daughter. Never forget that.”
Washington, DC
Raptor never forgot her mother’s words but she never forgot the many slights, either. They came not so much from her friends in high school but from their families. How many times had she waited outside the front door for a girlfriend to come out, instead of being invited inside? How many times had she been overlooked when the gang was arranging rides somewhere?
The whole stupid prom thing between her and Tina and what’s-his-name didn’t matter so much anymore, she recognized it for what it was, high school silliness. But the rest she couldn’t dismiss so easily, nor could she dismiss her subsequent competition with Tina over the Senate minority leader.
Even as she nursed her own grievances, Raptor remembered her lessons from Sunday school. She snickered to herself. Sunday school, how childish it seemed. Yet she’d learned kindness, even as she elbowed her way up in the Washington hothouse of interns and junior staffers. Hard work and good judgment, that is, the ability to tell who was on the way up and who wasn’t, propelled her into the not-yet-minority leader’s orbit.
She never gave the shaft to someone who didn’t deserve it. That’s what she told herself, anyway.
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