Daniel
My father taught me an important lesson I’ll never forget.
Never let a soul know what you really feel.
Never express it.
Only show them what you want them to see.
I hear his voice as I slip my hands in my jacket pockets and keep walking down Lincoln Street with my heart pounding in my chest and anxiety coursing in my blood. Two more blocks and I’ll wait there. The alley is the perfect place to wait and collect myself.
Until then, my blood will pound in my ears, my veins will turn cold and my muscles will stay coiled. But I won’t let anyone see that. Never.
I remember how my father gripped my shoulder when he looked me in the eyes and gave me that advice.
His dark stare was something no one ever forgot. It was impassive and cold. I lived many days wondering if my father loved me. I know my mother did. We were family and his blood, but he would never show any emotion and after that night, neither would I.
I was fourteen years old. And standing only a few feet away from the body of someone I once knew. I don’t even remember his name. A friend of my father’s. He worked in the business and gave the wrong person the wrong impression.
When you reveal that fear, that anger, that emotion, you give someone a hint of how to get to you. And that’s what my father’s friend had done. When someone gets to you, you end up dead.
My shoes slap on the concrete sidewalk as I slow down at the intersection, as if I’m merely waiting for the cars to stop at the red light so I can cross. It’s not a busy night, so only a few people are walking down the street. A man to my right lights up a cigarette and leans against the brick wall to a liquor store.
I make my way around the block, replaying what happened in my head. It was supposed to be a simple, easy night. Another night of waiting for Marcus to show for the drop-off or waiting to hear word about what’s going on with the deal between my brother and the cartel.
She caught me off guard.
Addison Fawn.
She’s always been able to do that. She gets to me in a way I despise.
She makes me remember.
She makes me weak.
Another step and I see her face. Her high cheekbones and piercing green eyes. I love the way her hair falls in front of her face. There’s always something effortless about it, like she doesn’t put an ounce of work into looking as fuckable as she does.
The cool night air whips past me as I round the corner. The next alley will take me where I want to go. Directly across from the lot where her car must be. It’s the only parking lot on this street for three blocks.
I swallow thickly, checking my phone again. It’s been three minutes since I’ve left.
Three minutes is more than enough time for her to pay the tab and walk off.
I don’t know if she will though.
It’s been years since I’ve felt like I’ve known who she is.
Years since I’ve heard her say my name.
The corners of my lips turn up in a smirk as I hear the hesitancy in her voice replay in my memory and I let it. Like she was scared to say my name out loud.
It echoes in my head as I lean against the wall of the dark alley and gives me a thrill I haven’t felt in a long time. Too long.
The alley is narrow, the type of passageway built decades and decades ago before the world knew better. Before humanity realized they were inviting sins in the night with small spaces like these.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I take a quick look around me before pulling it out.
There are four cars parked in the dirt lot. The streetlight on the right side illuminates the area easily, as do the headlights of a passing car.
My eyes flicker to the text on my phone and the amusement from only moments ago leaves me instantly.
Who’s the girl? Jake texted and I’m reminded that I upped and left as if she mattered. As if her existence would cause an issue.
And of course it does. More than anyone could know.
My shoulders rise as I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly, releasing the anger from letting her get to me and I focus on regaining control. Control is everything.
No one, I write him back but think better of it. It’s obvious she’s someone to me and Jake needs to be reassured. My brother’s ex, I add.
My body tenses as I wait for him to respond. I keep my posture relaxed, although I’m anything but.
Off limits? Jake must have a fucking death wish.
I can’t help the way my teeth grind as I text a response and then delete it before finally firing off a quick message.
For now. If Marcus comes tonight, tell him I’ll be back late. I’m smoldering with rage as I realize how stupid it was to risk missing the meet with Marcus all over a quick emotion I couldn’t suppress. Shock, anger … fear even. She’s only a girl. Inwardly, I can hear myself seething.
Alright, Jake messages me, making the phone vibrate in my hand. I almost ask him if Addison is still there. My fingertips itch to push for information.
But it’s not needed.
Even as Jake continues to text me about the drop-off, I watch the skirt sway around Addison’s hips. It’s the color of cream and loose on her, not giving me any hints of how her ass looks right now. But her legs are on full display.
I’ve always thought of Addison the same way, even after everything that went down. From the first day I met her until this very second. She’s a sad, but beautiful girl. You can see her pain in every bit of her features when she doesn’t know someone’s looking. Like I often did. From the way her full lips pout delicately, to the way her eyes seem to stare off in the distance, even when she’s looking right at you it’s as if she can see through you.
Those eyes have haunted me. The beautiful shades of green and brown are like the sunset over a forest. Like flecks of light peeking through and enhancing the darkness that’s soon to come.
She runs her hand over her soft porcelain skin and through the modest waves in her thick dark hair. Even those slight movements and the swing of her hips as she walks carry a sadness with them. It never leaves her. It defines her. But it suits her well.
More than sad, and more than beautiful, Addison is memorable. Unforgettable.
Her car beeps as she unlocks it, a shiny new black Honda from the looks of it, and the sound echoes in the alley. She’s parked in the third spot in the row of cars lined up under the streetlight. She looks to the left and right, cursing as she drops her keys in the gravel.
My dick stirs in my pants, straining against the fabric and I let out a low groan at the sight of her bent over. Her hair is swept to one side and the strap of her top is falling off her shoulder, giving me a view of that soft spot in the crook of her neck.
I adjust my dick and memorize the curves of her hips and waist until she opens up her car door and slips inside.
Every second my breaths come in heavier. The air around me feels as if it wants to suffocate me. Her tires kick up the gravel in the lot and I have to take a step back into the alley to avoid her headlights as she turns out onto the street.
I tell myself it’s only out of instinct that I take a picture of her license plate as she drives off.
Well I try to, but I’m a poor liar.
When she’s gone from view, I step back out onto the concrete sidewalk, staring down the desolate street and letting the brisk night air cool my hot skin.