Dante Harris was running. Running from an abusive past. Running from a messy break up. Running from the life he left in the small city of Round Rock Texas.
Somehow this small town boy has found himself in the busy streets of New York City, and in t...
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I felt my heart drop to my stomach.
Every part of myself was screaming to run. To get the fuck out of this apartment building. The fuck out of NYC. Maybe this fucking country... but as more moon light was emptied into the room, I saw that Shaun was holding something.
It was the picture of my mother. The one I had come here to get.
I hesitantly took some steps into the apartment.
"What the hell are you doing in here, Shaun?" I asked him. It was almost impossible to remain calm, but my voice did a good job of hiding the fear that was coursing through me right now. Shaun slowly turned to face me.
Regardless of how much time had passed since we last saw each other, the injuries on his face were still fresh. There was the deep gash right under his eye from where I had pistol whipped him. He clearly hadn't done much to take care of it since then, from the way it had swollen up.
Even with the bruises, Shaun still managed to clean up well. Just the smell of his cologne made me sick. It lingered through the apartment.
I could tell by his eyes that he was in his better mood, but with Shaun, I knew to never trust it.
"What do you mean why am I here? I'm here to take you home of course."
The word home coming from his mouth, made me shiver.
"You know that's not going to happen. That's never going to happen." For a second I saw something flash through him. I knew it was his rage, the same type of rage my father had.
But just as quickly as it came, it went.
"I understand we didn't really leave things right-"
I let out a dry chuckle that honestly surprised the both of us. "You pulled a fucking gun on me, Shaun."
That made Shaun flinch. I couldn't tell whether this was the part where he'd apologize, or lunge at me. Even with my hands visibly trembling at my side, I stayed put.
"I- I didn't mean to do that. You just- you know how my anger is sometimes baby." Shaun took a step towards me, but I took one large one back. My mind immediately thought about my surroundings. From where I stood, I close to the kitchen. It was hard to remember, but I was sure I briefly glanced at an old knife in one of the drawers there a few weeks ago.
Right now, it was sort of my only option.
"Stay the fuck away from me." I spat at him menacingly. Shaun immediately stopped his advances, but there was a smile starting to play on those lips.
"You're... different." He settled on. "New York City has made you quite the disobedient one. But that's okay, Dante. I'm here now to remind you of who you are. Where you're from. You're just some sad pitiful excuse of a fighter with no strong father to strictly guide you, and no cunt of a mother to throttle your pathetic existence. You are nothing without me, Dante. You never were."
