Read and tell me what you think. Negitive comments are welcome. It will not be full of fluffy duffy religious crap, but it will, like every other author's book, have some of my personal beliefs.
I hope you enjoy it, and if you dont, please tell me...
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Landon Sage
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*Sloane*
I walked through the airport, basking in the looks of fear me and my boys got from those around us.
I looked at my watch on my heavily tattooed arm and crashed into someone.
A woman in blue and pink convers, black cargo pants that looked comfily broken in, and a lime green T-Shirt that said "Oklahoma girl" was sitting on the ground. She looked fazed for a moment then began picking things up that had fallen out of her purse.
She stood, dusted herself off and stuck out her hand.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to crash into you. I wasn't looking where I was going, are you okay?"
I looked into her eyes. She was young, I could tell by how innocent she looked. The eyes were the gate way to the soul, so I always made a point of looking into them, it was also a way bring fear into others. This lady had no fear, just concern. This struck me as odd.
"Are you one of those people who don't like being touched?" she asked and I realized her hand was still out. She shrugged and put her hand in her pocket.
"Any way, I'm sorry for not look where I was going. Will you forgive me?"
She asked me looking into my eyes.
I had heard about half a million pleas of forgiveness in the years that I had been the leader of the Heathens, but those were all desperate words for any hope of life. This, this was a true apology. One that asked for forgiveness out of wanting to right a wrong and not to save a pathetic, worthless life.
I found myself nodding and saying
"I forgive you, it was partially my fault also. Will you forgive me?"
She smiled, and I noticed that it reached her large chocolate colored eyes.
Merciful (Merci) Layne
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*Merci*
"Sloane," One of the 5 large, tattoo laden men leaned towards the man I had bumped into "We are going to be late if we don't hurry up."
The tall, muscular, dark haired, cold, brown eyed man nodded, then, turning to me said
"Ma'am." He nodded his head once in my direction and I imagined if we had been in the west in the time of cowboys and Indians, he would have tipped his hat at me. I smiled at the thought and nodded my head at him. He then walked towards the large, revolving doors with his equally muscular, cold eyed companions.
I walked towards the baggage pick up and silently prayed that someone would show the man the true love of God.
