Home Books Coming Soon Reviews Freebies Blog Myspace
Reflections
I inhaled the cigarette letting the drag settle in my lungs. Slowly, I let the smoke out watching as the vapor mixed with my breath. Gazing around the darkened street, I flicked the butt away and zipped my jacket closer to my face. Blowing in my hands, I tried to warm my digits because the temperature was falling fast and my ride still hadn’t shown.
Fuck, I thought. He gets five more minutes. After that his ass is fucked. I’d been waiting in the doorway of Millicent’s apartment for over and hour for my no-good-boyfriend to pick me up.
Bastian was five years older than me. I’d met him in college one night while I was out with a study group drinking and arguing over some bullshit literature class I was only taking as an elective anyway. I needed to fill the space in my schedule and let daddy know I was serious about school. Shit, my father hadn’t given two shits about me since I was a girl in cute little pigtails. He provided the tuition check to make sure his little princess got an upscale education. He barely acknowledged I was alive. Business was his life and whenever I had needed him for anything it was ‘how much honey?’ or ‘go see the nanny, daddy’s busy right now’.I hit my hand against the stone doorway of my friend’s apartment building, wishing I had grown up poor. At least then I would’ve had someone to pay attention to me besides a fat checkbook and nannies who locked me in the closet so they wouldn’t have to deal with me. Or the teachers who thought I was the cute porcelain doll that was good to fuck. My father never knew about the abuse. I was in the care of others so why would he have to even think about me? Who would have believed me when I was such a bratty kid? Sneaking out, being arrested, trying my hand at drugs, and even breaking into a few cars with my lowlife boyfriends. My father washed his hands of me in high school and got remarried to a Barbie who was only just legal. Now, he had a more perfect family that sent me a check once a month and a pretty Christmas card along with a fruit basket. His business partners got more attention.
I sparked another smoke and slung my backpack over my shoulder. Fuck Bastian. I’d had enough of him anyway. Good-for-nothing-sorry-son-of-a-bitch. He was worthless and didn’t know what to do with his dick. What did I see in him? Maybe it was the whole little boy lost thing I was attracted to. He did look awesome in leather, but looks weren’t everything. Besides, things were starting to look up for me.
I had a gallery opening in a week thanks to Millicent. We’d been going over the layout and the exact prints I wanted displayed. It just sucked he lived in a shotty part of town where the buses never ran on schedule. Whatever! It was all the queen could afford. I smiled as I thought about him and the fun times we had had. I had met him while I did my stint at the local strip joint. He was the only one sober at the end of the night. He stopped one of his friends pawing at me. We hit it off and he gave me a ride home and we’d been friends ever since. He was slightly eccentric, but hell, so was I.
I pulled one more tug on the butt, snuffed it under foot, and began hoofing it to the nearest bus stop. It was past one a.m., but I could get something home even if it ended up being some smug-fucking-dick cab driver who would charge me double or expect a blow job for payment because I lived on the other side of the freaking city. It wasn’t my fault that Bastian was a dumb-ass.
Sighing, I made it four blocks before a car pulled up beside me.
“Hey, sweet thang. Why don’t you hop in and give me a wild ride?”
I glanced over at the gangsta-wanna-be who thought I was some mamacita he could pay to fuck. “Get lost asshole. I’m not for sale.”
The dick revved his engine trying to impress me with what was under the hood. Why is it that men always compare their dicks to the size of their engines? If that was the case with him, he was more then lacking between the legs. I rolled my eyes and kept on walking. Gangsta-boy began to follow alongside of me like his rotting car was some pimp mobile. I glanced inside and saw the leopard print seat covers, trash on the floor, and a mirror ball suspended from the rearview mirror. The inside stank of pot and corn chips.
“Come on lady, you know you want it.” He gestured to himself.
I took one look at his stained white T-shirt, greasy hair, and blue jeans and laughed. If he thought he had any chance with me, he had another thing coming. All he was good for was a blow-up pussy to jack off in.
“Look! Asshole. Back off. All right. I’m not interested. Get that through to the twig between your legs.” I picked up my pace. Exhaustion was setting in and I didn’t need Tiny following me. The guy screeched to a halt and his car door slammed. Shit! I guess I insulted him. Without looking back, I took off running. Before I realized it, I tasted dirt and gravel. The asshole had me pinned like a prostitute to a brick wall while I struggled underneath him. I tried getting away, clawing my way along the cracks, getting crud caked underneath my fingernails, but he was too heavy for me to crawl away from.
“Get the fuck off of me!” I screamed.
“You’re gonna give it to me, bitch. You whores are all alike flauntin’ it and then not givin’ it up when we want it.”
I tried turning around and slashing at him, but I was getting nowhere. “I’m not a whore.” I kicked him and heard him grunt, but my aim was off and I couldn’t get him in the balls. Either way I knew I hurt him. Then suddenly his weight was gone and I heard a muffled scuffle. I lay there for a second wondering what was going to happen next. Was the stranger going to try and get a piece of me too?
“Shit man. I meant nothin’. I just wanted a little somthin’ somethin’. Know what I mean?”
“The lady said no. Or didn’t you hear her?” the stranger growled.
“Yeah, yeah, man, whateva. You can have the bitch.”
The sound of sneakers hitting pavement and the engine gunning jarred me to reality. I caught my breath and rubbed my throat. I got up slowly, wondering what the hell kinda turn my life had taken now. All I needed to top my night off was that gangsta pussy trying to rape me. Great just fucking great. Now this new guy wants to horn in on the action too. Just cause he’s all night in shining armor doesn’t mean shit. All I fucking needed, besides freezing my ass off because that dickwad who jumped me had torn my sweatshirt. Besides that, I smelled like cheap beer and pot. I shivered at both. Drugs were for looser sand I wasn’t a beer kinda girl. Give me a shot of vodka or tequila and I was good to go. Fuck Bastian for not showing up.
“Bastian is dead next time I see him. His forgetful ass is out of the apartment. He’s done mooching off me and my father’s money. The next time I see him, he’s getting a fucking ear full,” I muttered.
“Excuse me. Are you all right?”
I got up, brushed myself off, and finally faced my savior. His hair was cropped short almost Roman military style. The horrible neon blue light illuminating the street reflected off his hair making it appear white. A leather jacket covered a dark shirt. Broken-in blue jeans with holes worn in the knees encased his well-muscled legs. He was built, reminding me of one of my professors, because he was definitely older than me. That was all I needed, another father figure who thought they could fuck me.
“Fine thanks.” I forced a smile. I was never good at being fake. I left that to my new stepmother.
I turned and began to walk away like a good little city girl knowing that my sense of safety was slightly shaken, but it would be ratified. I had to survive. Anyone who lived in a metropolis knew that shit happened. People were robbed all the time. Bums were always pissing on some park bench, and none of it mattered to me right now because I was too tired and cranky to care. Besides, I wasn’t going crying back to daddykins. His flawless wife would so love to have the black sheep influencing her precious baby boy. Not to mention she was just over the drinking limit. Who names their daughter Mitsy? Mitsy for Christ’s sake. Stupid people. My father only married her because she saw the bulge in his pocket and he saw the opportunity to parade around a blonde bimbo and impress his business partners. I felt bad for my little brother—
“Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”
I turned, brought out of my thoughts of killing my step-mother, and plastered the fake smile on my face.
“Look. Thanx for getting that asshole off me, but I’m fine. Okay?”
“As you wish. I’m Ethan.” He extended his hand. I looked at it for a moment and was seriously thinking of turning on my heal, but then he smiled. I found myself smiling back with my bad mood sliding away.
“Christa.” I answered back. I took his hand and shook it. His grip was strong. In the light I noticed his fingernails were kept neat and short. I liked a guy who was into personal hygiene.
He nodded and my spirit lifted. “Can I give you a lift home? This is a bad part of town for such a lady to be walking around in.”
I hoisted my backpack again and was amused he called me a lady. Okay, so maybe he was a true night in shining armor. He certainly wasn’t coming onto me or trying to put one over on me. Then again he might’ve been the latest serial killer and I had no fucking clue. Better not take him up on his offer just in case. “No thanks. I’m good. Appreciate it though.”
“Okay. Have a good evening.” Ethan turned and walked away. I stood my ground watching him disappear into the shadows, but as he did I had to admit those jeans looked pretty damn good on him. I licked my lips thinking a dime could bounce off that tush. Yum. I shook my head and hoofed it home knowing that Bastian would be out on his ass in the morning. I had a clear picture in my head of exactly what was going out the window. All of this clothes. His guitars and whatever else of his that I didn’t want to sell. With a small spring in my step, I looked forward to a restful sleep and another day of figuring out what to shoot.