Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
My eyes meet his as I nod and walk up the stairs. Each step feels like I have lead in my shoes despite wearing flipflops. What the hell happened out there? I look down at my hands, not realizing right away that they grasp my phone. Maybe I’m in shock. I think I was just involved in some crazy shit. Never in my twenty-six years have I ever felt this old. I’m not even sure I understand all the emotions I’m having.
“Charlie? Sweetheart, are you okay?”
I scream and grab my chest as I turn and see my neighbor Shelia. Her little old hands hold her old cell phone as if she was getting ready to call someone.
“Oh my God, Shelia.” I sag against the door. “You scared me. I’m a bit jumpy.” I breathe out as I scan the area. The sunset, which would otherwise be gorgeous with its oranges and reds, reminds me of a bleeding sky. Maybe it’s a sign that David is bleeding. I mean, that loud pop pop was not from firecrackers—it could have been gunshots.
“Holy shit.” I’m such a fucking naïve idiot. No wonder Eve and Dolly knew what to do right away. They didn’t even argue, simply got into the SUV with Eve’s baby and left. I rub my temples and dig inside my bag for the keys.
“A couple of men came by looking for you,” she whispers. Her cold, wrinkled hand touches mine.
“What?” I screech as I look around.
“Yes.” She pulls me into her apartment, which is identical to mine but looks like an old lady and her cats live here. The cat litter needs to be changed. I usually try to do it for her once a week. It’s clear I forgot last week because it’s awful. I hate the smell of cat piss.
“Here, I tried to take a picture with my phone. They were pounding on your door. I told them I was going to call the cops and they left.” She hands me her phone, which should have been upgraded ten years ago. My hands shake as I look at the tiny screen. But instead of bikers, they look like my upstairs neighbor’s stupid friends, wet and in board shorts.
“Oh God.” I sink onto her uncomfortable couch. The crocheted throw blanket is slightly scratchy. “Shelia, I think this is Jordan and Sean’s drunk friends.”
She frowns and looks down at the phone. “Are you sure? They had a couple tattoos.” She whispers that last word as she points to one. On her crappy phone, it looks like melanoma rather than a tattoo.
“Trust me, those are Sean’s friends.” I put a hand over my eyes as I lean my head back.
“Can I get you anything, honey? You look pale.”
“Oh, Shelia…” I can’t seem to stop. The tears flow down my cheeks as I lean over and sob.
“Charlize, no man who makes you cry like this is worth it.”
I shake my head. “He is.”
I stutter and keep on crying, “He’s had awful things happen and right this moment, I have no idea if I’ll ever see him again.”
I grab my chest and purge my soul to my sweet next-door neighbor, a little old lady whose late husband worked as a house painter until he got too old. He worshiped her.
“I know you think he wasn’t like your Jacob. And maybe he isn’t, but oh God, what if he’s dead?”
Shelia looks horrified, and I stand. She doesn’t need to hear all my shit. She thought my dickhead neighbor’s friends were bikers.
“I need to go.” I head for the door.
“Charlize, I’ve never seen you like this. Do I need to call your mother?” She stands too, her small frame leaning into the couch.
A tiny bubble of laughter starts to come up. Although I’m sobbing, the thought that poor Shelia wants to call my mother like I’m twelve is so absurd yet perfect for this day. The last thing I need is my mother.
“I’m fine. I think I had too much sun, and I’ll call my mom later anyway. Thank you for watching out for me.”
“Charlize?” Her strict voice makes me turn right as I open the door.
“Don’t do something foolish or something you will regret.” I’m startled by the passion. It’s as though she’s done the same and nothing good came of it.
“You have nothing to worry about. I would never.” I shut the door, hoping that’s true.
DAVID/POET
I drop my bike with the valet at The Dolly and look around.
It’s early. The Disciples’ bouncer nods at me as I pass.
The smell of booze hits me and I stop, close my eyes, and breathe. I love booze. But that’s not my dark mistress. Booze makes me sloppy.
My eyes scan the dark club. It must have opened a little while ago if the one couple at the bar is any indication. I walk in and look where Sergi sat last time, the adrenaline still fucking with my head. I’m covered in blood and yet when I spot the scum of the earth, he smiles and motions for me to come to him. His gold tooth looks pathetic in the dim light. The voices in my head tell me to go forward. A pair of golden eyes make me hesitate for a moment.