The Emerald Truth: Three

Standard

They’d shut the door, but Noelle could still hear from inside. “She stays here or the deal is off,” Kyle said, puffing his chest towards Santos, whom was unfazed by his bravado.

“She‘ll Have world-class care.”

“No deal,” Kyle said, starting back towards the room, before he was seized by Santos.

“Eh, amigo, don’t forget, I own your Black ass. One phone call and your little girl will have a lot more to worry about. This isn’t a discussion,” Santos growled into Kyle’s face, before releasing him and straightening his jacket.

“My daughter is staying here. You need me,” Kyle said, unwilling to back down. Santos smiled, his gold molar shining against his weathered skin. “Fine. I’ll have a patrol car sit out front. Just in case,” he said, pulling out his phone. At least, in the motel room, she’d have the option to escape. Santos dialed a number and Kyle took the opportunity to go and prepare her for the worst.

“Dad…”

“We don’t have time. If I’m not back by midnight, I want you to go out the bathroom window.”

“What?”

“I don’t have time to explain. If I’m not through that door, you need to leave. Go as far as you can with what’s in your bag and I’ll find you. I promise,” he said, planting a kiss on top of her head. As much as she wanted to believe him, she couldn’t find the words to say as he walked out the door. The empty feeling that settled over her was familiar, since she’d been abandoned before. Continue reading

The Emerald Truth: Two

Standard

Dorian had been seeing things, or so he thought. It’d been a while since he was haunted by the ghosts of his wife and daughter. In the beginning, he saw them everywhere, in the faces of every stranger. At night, he could almost feel Olivia’s arms around him and smell the conditioner in her hair.

It had nothing on the déjà vu he was having today, and it wasn’t Olivia. He looked over his shoulder for the 3rd time, looking for the familiar shape. As he approached the building, he turned around, his back to the rotating door. He’d felt it: someone was following him. He scanned the busy avenue, looking for anything or anyone suspicious. Continue reading

The Emerald Truth: One

Standard

I can help!” Noelle repeated, following behind her adoptive father. Kyle ignored her again, going over his checklist in his head once again. He just wanted this night to be over.

“Dad!” Noelle yelled, hands on her narrow hips. The moniker still caught him off guard; never did he expect to become a father in such a short amount of time.

“El, you are helping me. Your job may be the most critical of all.”

“Packing bags? That’s kid shit!”

“Yes, well, with the way you’re acting, I’d say you were very much qualified.”

“What if you need me to squeeze into a ventilation system or sweet talk a guard? I’m useful!”

“You don’t need to prove yourself to me, El,” Kyle said, sighing.

“Then what is it?” A knock on the door interrupted them.

“It’s time to go.” Continue reading

Photograph

Standard

“I wanna meet this girl who’s been occupying all my baby’s time,” Ricky’s mother, Phyllis, said. Before her son could reply, the waiter returned and deposited their brunch in front of them.

“Things are still new. I don’t wanna chase her away,” Ricky laughed before scooping potatoes into his mouth.

“Tell me all about her.”

“She’s wonderful, really. Smart, funny, gorgeous. She keeps me in check.”

“I love her already.” Time with his mother was precious to Ricky, since he’d so nearly lost her at the beginning of the year. The one thing she wanted was to know her son would be taken care of. He hadn’t told his mother, but he’d already begun falling in love with Alex.

“You should bring her to the barbecue this weekend. I promise, no grilling,” Phyllis said, mimicking the Boy Scouts pledge.

“I’m going to see her tonight so I’ll bring it up. No promises,” Ricky said. He was excited that his mother was excited about his new relationship, especially since she had been so negative about the girls he liked.

“Just promise me you’ll try and make this work. Treat her with all the respect and dignity you show me,” Phyllis said, taking her son’s hand. Ricky smiled and nodded, giving his mother a squeeze back.

“I promise.” Continue reading

DSW

Standard

It was inevitable that I’d sell my body for money. Most of the girls I graduated high school with went on to procure dance cards to gyrate under hot lights the day after our matriculation. It was just the environment we’d become products of: most of our mothers were slaves to their vices, leaving us defenseless in homes throughout the county. One way or another, a man would make us victims, by force or voice. Continue reading

More of the Same

Standard

The stove’s clock changed to 10:52 silently. The flat was dark, except for the dim light that shined in from outside. Sonia sat at the dining room table, spinning her 3rd glass of cognac between her fingers. The last 6 years had been the same: her husband would walk out the door for work and manage to find his way between the legs of a young co-ed. Marcus was beautiful and charming in the beginning. He’d lavished her with gifts and trips, promising that she was the only woman he’d ever loved. They consummated their relationship in the balmy waters of Santorini & they were inseparable from then on. The first year they were married was everything she’d hoped. He spoiled her, prompting to her to quit the measly desk work she’d believed was her career. He helped her mother & sister move to a better home in a better community and doted on his wife, loving her as largely as he could. Continue reading

The Trouble with Diamonds: Ten

Standard

He pushed deeper inside of his wife. Her gasp pushed her warm breath onto his full lips, her brow furrowed in borrowed ecstasy. He wound his arms around her, sharing the air between their mouths and the sweat on their skin. “Tell me you love me,” he said as he watched her. She squirmed on top of him, trapped like a field mouse and its slithering predator. He filled her again and again with no remorse for her moans. “Tell me. Say it.”
“I love you.”

He rolled over deftly, still tucked away but she was different, her scent spreading through the room: honeysuckle and orchids. She pushed her knees back so he could peer down and watch her love bloom for him. He pressed his lips onto her knees as he dipped inside of her. He could feel every muscle inside of her twitch around him and he felt himself unravel with every thrust. He wanted to hate her; he wanted to stop and drag her into the deepest hole the federal government could provide. Yet, he wanted nothing but to bury himself deep inside of her, to release the thick sorrow and melancholy that kept him captive. He was trapped in quicksand; a harrowing love for his dead wife and the forbidden lust he possessed for the thief.

Continue reading