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THE STRANGEST OF FRUIT

Sylvester_Rowan
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Synopsis
The Strangest of Fruit is a dark, seductive exploration of desire, memory, and inherited trauma. Set in a world where the past clings to the flesh and the future is shaped by lust as much as legacy, this story follows those born from pain descendants of the broken, the survivors, the silenced who now find themselves entangled in pleasures that both free and destroy. At the heart is a boy cursed with temptation: surrounded by women who are as powerful as they are alluring, each one pulling him deeper into a web of secrets, seduction, and spiritual unrest. He walks a thin line between death and obsession, torn between sacred duty and the overwhelming hunger of the body. Every encounter is a test, every kiss a reckoning. Together with a cast of haunted companions some fractured by grief, others driven by justice or lust they uncover the forbidden truths of their bloodlines. What they inherit is not sweet it is strange, volatile, and carnal. The fruit of their lineage bears thorns, and every bite tastes of something holy and cursed. Blurring the lines between dream and waking, myth and flesh, The Strangest of Fruit dares to ask: What happens when the body remembers what history tried to erase? And in surrendering to temptation, might there also be liberation?
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Chapter 1 - ALMOST GAME NIGHT!!

Steam still clung to Alicia's skin, her body slick with the last traces of the hot shower. She wiped the mirror with the side of her hand, smearing a half-circle of clarity into the fogged glass. Her reflection stared back round cheeks, full arms, soft belly. She ran her hands over her curves, not in admiration, but in disbelief. Why him? she wondered. What did he see?

Bo hadn't touched her in months. Not truly. His hands had become like furniture always around, never reaching. The man she once melted for now barely looked at her unless she was in his way. That kind of abandonment... it had etched itself into her bones.

But the phone on the counter buzzed again. One message. Just one.

"I'm outside."

Her stomach tightened. That thrill God, it was intoxicating. Her thighs pressed together without meaning to. This wasn't love. Not yet. It was danger. A pulse. A reminder that she was still here. Still wanted.

She grabbed a towel and stormed out of the bathroom, only to see Kayla still up lounging in front of the TV with a half-empty cup of juice.

Alicia's voice came sharp, sharper than she meant. "Go to your room."

Kayla blinked, mouth already open to protest.

"I said now."

Kayla's eyes narrowed, sensing something, but she held her tongue. That quiet defiance Alicia always hated. The same look Bo gave when he didn't want to fight.

Still, Kayla got up, dragging her feet down the hallway like the weight of the world was on her back.

When her door finally clicked shut, Alicia turned her eyes to the front door.

She didn't even bother putting clothes on.

Alicia paused just before reaching the knob, one hand still clutching the towel at her chest. She took a deep breath, willing her heartbeat to slow. She needed to own this moment because she hadn't owned a damn thing in years.

When she opened the door, she didn't hide. She leaned casually against the frame, the curve of her hip exposed beneath the drooping towel, one leg crossed over the other. The hallway light caught the damp sheen on her skin, making her glow like a forbidden fruit left out in the rain.

JT stood there frozen.

Tall. Slender. Barely twenty-two if she had to guess. His dreads hung low, almost shielding the wide-eyed look plastered across his face. His mouth was parted like he was trying to find the words, but they'd abandoned him the moment he laid eyes on her.

She smiled slowly, amused by the spell she'd cast.

"Are you just gonna stand there, or..." she gestured to her towel with a knowing smirk, "should you come in before the neighbors get a full show?"

JT blinked, snapped out of it. "Y-yeah yes, ma'am. Sorry."

He stepped inside, bowing his head slightly, careful not to brush against her as he passed. He kept his hands in his jacket pockets, nervous energy rolling off him like steam. He smelled faintly of cologne and rain.

The moment the door closed behind them with a click, Alicia turned, grabbed his shirt, and pinned him right to it. The towel shifted slightly as she pressed her body against his, her lips just inches from his mouth.

JT froze stiff but breathless, like he didn't know whether to kiss her or apologize for existing.

Alicia's voice dropped into a purr. "You nervous, baby?"

His eyes flicked to her lips. "A little."

She was about to answer. Maybe tease him. Maybe kiss him. But then

"Mama?"

The voice was small but sharp. Right there. Inside the house.

Alicia jerked away from JT like she'd been electrocuted. Her heart shot into her throat.

"Shit," she whispered under her breath.

JT's face was a portrait of panic.

"Go," she whispered, already cracking the door open, "outside. Wait. Don't say anything."

JT nodded fast, slipping out onto the porch with all the awkward grace of a guilty teenager.

Alicia closed the door behind him, took a deep breath, and turned just in time to see

Kayla coming around the corner with a half-suspicious, half-sleepy look on her face.

"Who was that?" Kayla asked, rubbing one eye and clutching her stuffed animal.

Alicia pulled the towel tighter around herself, keeping her voice calm. "Nobody, baby. Just the DoorDash guy."

Kayla frowned. "But he came inside."

"He had the wrong address," Alicia said smoothly. "I told him to check the other building."

Kayla stared at her. "You don't even use DoorDash."

Alicia cocked her hip. "Well, I did tonight. Felt like treating myself."

Kayla looked at the door again, suspicious. "Why'd he look scared?"

Alicia blinked, then smiled. "Because I opened the door in a towel and scared the poor man half to death."

Kayla squinted at her mother, then slowly turned back toward her room. "He looked cute," she mumbled as she walked away.

Alicia raised a brow. "Goodnight, Kayla."

Kayla didn't answer. Her door clicked shut.

Alicia let out a long breath, walked to the door, and cracked it open.

JT was still there.

"Everything okay?" he asked quietly.

She looked him up and down with a slow, hungry smile.

"Yeah," she said. "Now... where were we?"

Bo stood behind the greasy counter of Royal Burger, the smell of old fryer oil clinging to his clothes like regret. His back ached. His feet were screaming. His patience was on its last breath.

"Excuse me," the customer snapped, waving a hand like he was invisible. "This burger's cold. And I said no pickles. Do y'all listen in this place or just slap sh*t together with your eyes closed?"

Bo stared at the man for a long second. Not because he didn't hear him but because he was imagining shoving the entire burger back in the customer's face. Slow.

"I can get you another one," Bo said, his voice calm. Too calm.

The guy leaned forward like that wasn't good enough. "Yeah, you better. If I wanted trash service, I would've gone to Grill King down the street. At least they get the damn order right."

Something inside Bo cracked.

It wasn't loud.

It wasn't dramatic.

Just a quiet snap.

He took off his gloves, tossed them gently on the counter, and unhooked the Royal Burger visor from his head.

"You know what?" he said, voice still low. "Nah. You can go ahead and cook that sh*t yourself."

The customer blinked. "What?"

Bo grabbed his backpack from under the counter and headed for the exit. "I quit," he said over his shoulder. "Before I catch a charge in this bitch."

Someone in the back let out a half-laugh, half-gasp, but Bo didn't look back. He pushed through the swinging door, past the kitchen, and into the burning freedom of the outside air. His chest expanded like he'd been holding his breath for months.

He didn't have a plan. Didn't know what came next. But at that moment, he knew one thing for damn sure:

He wasn't going to be anybody's punching bag for another second.

When he got home, the apartment was quiet. Still.

Alicia's car was in the lot.

He didn't expect her to be out this late, but maybe she was in bed already. Maybe this day could still end with something good.

He unlocked the door, stepped inside, and dropped his bag on the floor.

"Li?" he called out. "You up?"

Silence.

But the air felt... off.

He didn't know it yet, but something had already shifted.

Something that couldn't be undone.

The sound hit Bo first.

Wet. Rhythmic. Breathless.

Alicia's moans slid under the door and curled around his gut like a fist. But still, he turned the knob.

Still, he looked.

And there she was his woman knees dug into their mattress, straddling a body that didn't belong to him.

JT's hands were gripping her waist, guiding her in rhythm. His dreadlocks splayed across the pillow, his face barely visible but enough for Bo to recognize.

Bo's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Just the sour rush of bile.

He turned his head, fell to his knees right there on the bedroom carpet, and vomited. Hard. Once. Twice. All of it spilled out: the cheap Royal Burger shift meal, the pride, the years, the hope.

Still they didn't notice him.

They kept going.

She was too deep in it. JT's hands were still moving. The mattress still squeaked.

Bo stood slowly, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his work shirt. He walked to the closet their closet and pulled his duffel bag down from the top shelf.

He started packing.

Folded his shirts. Tossed in jeans. Underwear. Socks. Calm. Quiet.

It wasn't until he walked across the room to grab boxers from his drawer that JT finally saw him.

JT's body froze mid-thrust, eyes going wide with horror.

"Uncle Bo!"

Alicia twisted around at the sound of JT's voice.

She saw him then. Standing there at the dresser, folding his shirts like he was just getting ready for a trip.

"Bo...!" she gasped, pulling the sheet over her chest. "Bo, I..."

Bo didn't respond. He grabbed his charger. His cologne. His deodorant. His toothbrush.

They both started talking over each other, voices overlapping with panic and guilt. Alicia stepped off the bed, wrapping herself in the bedsheet, reaching out.

"Bo, say something please. Just talk to me."

JT sat up, barely covered, guilt painted across his face like a scar.

"Unc, I didn't know I didn't know y'all were..."

Bo's voice came low. Almost too quiet. "Don't."

He didn't look at either of them.

He kept his eyes on the bag. On the floor. On anything but their naked shame.

"Bo baby, please talk to me yell at me if you want. Just say something!"

But Bo couldn't.

If he let anything out, it wouldn't be words.

It would be fists.

And blood.

And screaming.

And he was afraid terrified of that version of himself. The one he'd worked his whole life to bury.

He zipped the bag and lifted it to his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

But it was everything.

Alicia stepped in his path. "Please, I made a mistake, I...."

Bo finally looked at her.

Just once.

And there was so much pain in his eyes, it burned.

"I've been hit before," he said, voice trembling. "That's why I never raised my hands. Not once. But right now..."

He stopped himself.

Swallowed hard.

"Right now, I'm so close to becoming the thing I've always hated."

He brushed past her gently, not pushing just moving through.

He needed to leave.

Because staying would've killed someone.

And he wasn't going to jail.

Not for either of them.

Bo slung the duffel over his shoulder, fingers tight around the strap like it was the only thing holding him together.

He stepped into the hallway.

He just needed to get out. One more step. One more second.

But as he passed Kayla's door, it cracked open.

She stood there in her unicorn pajamas, her hair still braided from bedtime, holding her stuffed bear like it might explain the noise she'd just heard.

Her eyes widened when she saw him with the bag.

"Bo?" Her voice was soft, uncertain. "What's going on?"

Bo froze.

Alicia stepped into the hall behind him, wrapped in a sheet, eyes still red and lips trembling but silent. Utterly silent.

Kayla looked between them, confused and growing more afraid by the second. "Mama? What's happening?"

Alicia opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

Kayla turned back to Bo, more urgently now. "Bo? Where are you going?"

He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. His hand tightened around the strap.

She took a small step toward him. "Did I do something wrong?"

That broke him.

Bo lowered his eyes, chest rising and falling as he tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. He still didn't turn around.

"No, baby girl," he said quietly. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Kayla's bottom lip trembled. "Then why are you leaving?"

Bo's voice cracked. "Because I have to. And I won't be coming back."

The silence hit hard. The words heavier than any scream could've been.

Kayla shook her head. "But... but it's almost our game night. And our anniversary. Five years Mama said you've been here five years."

Bo closed his eyes. Tight.

He exhaled through his nose, trying not to break. "I know. I didn't forget."

Tears were forming in her eyes now, and she clutched her bear tighter, like maybe that would stop the world from shifting beneath her feet.

He still couldn't face her.

"I left my Xbox for you," he said softly. "You always said you wanted your own."

There was a long, shaking pause.

"I'm sorry."

And with that, he walked.

Kayla's voice didn't follow him.

Only silence.

And behind him, a woman he once loved stood speechless in the ruins she created.

while the only innocent heart in the room quietly shattered.