*** NEW AND IMPROVED ***
With her father missing, Shay will do anything to get him back, even if that means teaming up with a cruel gang leader and his band of psychotic men.
CHARACTER VIEWS DO NOT REPRESENT MY OWN.
***WARNING*** OFFENSIVE CON...
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SO COLD
THE EASTERN SKY was melting into sundown. Shy blues darkened and tinges and streaks of soft pink and violets appeared, the afterglow of a mild and warm day. The summery heat was a welcoming sensation but soon enough temperatures fell. The cold was bitter and crisp. A change.
My attire comprised of an oversized puffy jacket, an ashy-grey hoodie, a white tee, and washed blue jeans. Somewhere, someplace, an aspiring Twitter designer thought it was a fit perfect for Vogue. My worn black boots, however, wouldn't make the cut.
With heavy lids, I observed the desolate neighbourhood of white-picket fences and aureate front lawns. It was a serene environment, a stark contrast to downtown a few streets away where violence, poverty and knife-wielding children ran amok. Around here the people were like the fences – in colour and in purpose. Whilst the area was homey, I wasn't comfortable and couldn't settle – which was funny considering I grew up in an affluent white area. Now I found comfort in brown skin, and found home in the darkest of shades. The glimmer of sunlight on the richest brown skin was a sight I preferred over stark white. Thinking of the character change and the people I've grown to love and call family brought a smile to my face. I was hashtag blessed.
Mobile to my ear, I ambled away from the front door for privacy, aware of the roaming eyes and flattened ears. There was no privacy amongst the living and the inanimate.
"Hello?" the receiver had a smoker's voice. Low, gruff. If I hadn't known him I would've assumed his teeth were stained in brown tobacco remains.
"How are you?" I inquired.
"Great."
"Irvin."
He gave a long-winded sigh. I imagined him to be running a hand through his hair, tired eyes big in a gaunt face. "What do you want me to say, Shay? I screwed up. And now I'm living out the consequences."
"You could come back."
"After all this time?" he laughed wryly, bitter. "It would be a death wish. I'd be the bitch everyone holds down and fucks. I'd rather mouth the end of a shotgun and swallow gunpowder."
"James is home, recovering. I could speak to Cole and tell him to put a leash on his bulldogs."
Rancorous, he shot down my suggestion. "Fuck that. I'm the target for his inefficiency and failure. He's gunning for my head. If it weren't for you I'd already be dissolved in acid and buried under a new landing development. Thanks for that, by the way. I'll send you flowers." Likely roses with thorns.
"Stay at your grandmother's house. No-one will find you. It's already been searched and it's better than flitting from place to place. Wait." An idea occurred to me, and I blurted out. "My aunt's house! You could stay there. It's vacant and none of the men will think to search for you there."
