I 've been here before, many times over. Dark and quiet but it feels warm. Like coming home from a long trip. The sense of familiarity washes over me. It 's always the same. Her voice cuts through the opaque abyss. I can never make out what she 's saying, but I know it 's her. The darkness dissipates, giving way to her smile. Dark brown eyes staring up at me. Curly black hair, unruly and yet, the twisted locks lay neatly just above her shoulders. Her lips trace a poignant question that I answered all those years ago. “I 'll always come back for you.” Her smile breaks as tears begin to roll down her cheeks and just as she had appeared, she fades back into nothingness. “No... no, no, no, no, no, no, no, please... please don 't go. Please, I 'll...
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My head throbbed in sync with my heartbeat. A lump the size of a grapefruit had take residency on the back of my skull. Rather than check for blood or other injuries, I check my wallet. To my surprise my credit card was still there to greet me in all its maxed out glory. Maybe Eddy wasn 't as big a vulture as I had him pegged to be. That or the distress that scarred my shoes and the absence of a brand name on my watch may have filled him in on my lackluster potential as a profitable mark. I noticed a small yellow note placed on the steering wheel. “Go away. Don 't come back.” Under Mr. Flanagan 's words of wisdom was an address. No name, just an address. Maybe it was a trap. Maybe it was an apology for the crappy whiskey his bar served. Either way I felt it was time to wash the taste of unconsciousness out of my mouth. “Ricky! Get me a whiskey on the rocks, but put the rocks in a bag instead of the cup.” The barkeep filled a plastic bag with ice. “The hell did you get yourself into this time?” I grabbed my perfectly contoured stool and took a seat. The ice made me wince, the whiskey helped with that. “Our mutual friends decided to show me a bit of hospitality.” He filled my glass. “You let those jokers get over on you?” I shot the bartender a sharp glare as I gulped down my self prescribed medicine. “Well you forgot to mention that one of them was a friggin ' …show more content…
“Oh sneak attack, got cha '.” I took the empty glass and swirled the ice around listening the the distinctive clink as the cubes shuffled about. “They did give me an address though, recognize it?” I handed him the yellow note, he shook his head. “Yeah, me neither. I 'm guessing its the dancer 's.” His eyebrow raised as he handed the paper back to me, “Dancer?” I forgot to fill him in.
“Oh yeah, remember the runaway husband? Well seems as though hes been shacked up with one of the girls from the club. Now Eddy claims he doesn 't have any info on the girl, or most of his girls for that matter, but then he slips me this address.”
“Could be a trap.”
“I don 't think so. Why go through the trouble of luring me somewhere if you already have me laid out in a dark alley.” “Don 't private I 's normally get framed for murder or something in all the books?”
“What? What, why? Why would you do that? You better knock on wood with all that voodoo your throwing my way!”
“Oh why 's it gotta be voodoo? Because I 'm black?
“Well... yeah
My head throbbed in sync with my heartbeat. A lump the size of a grapefruit had take residency on the back of my skull. Rather than check for blood or other injuries, I check my wallet. To my surprise my credit card was still there to greet me in all its maxed out glory. Maybe Eddy wasn 't as big a vulture as I had him pegged to be. That or the distress that scarred my shoes and the absence of a brand name on my watch may have filled him in on my lackluster potential as a profitable mark. I noticed a small yellow note placed on the steering wheel. “Go away. Don 't come back.” Under Mr. Flanagan 's words of wisdom was an address. No name, just an address. Maybe it was a trap. Maybe it was an apology for the crappy whiskey his bar served. Either way I felt it was time to wash the taste of unconsciousness out of my mouth. “Ricky! Get me a whiskey on the rocks, but put the rocks in a bag instead of the cup.” The barkeep filled a plastic bag with ice. “The hell did you get yourself into this time?” I grabbed my perfectly contoured stool and took a seat. The ice made me wince, the whiskey helped with that. “Our mutual friends decided to show me a bit of hospitality.” He filled my glass. “You let those jokers get over on you?” I shot the bartender a sharp glare as I gulped down my self prescribed medicine. “Well you forgot to mention that one of them was a friggin ' …show more content…
“Oh sneak attack, got cha '.” I took the empty glass and swirled the ice around listening the the distinctive clink as the cubes shuffled about. “They did give me an address though, recognize it?” I handed him the yellow note, he shook his head. “Yeah, me neither. I 'm guessing its the dancer 's.” His eyebrow raised as he handed the paper back to me, “Dancer?” I forgot to fill him in.
“Oh yeah, remember the runaway husband? Well seems as though hes been shacked up with one of the girls from the club. Now Eddy claims he doesn 't have any info on the girl, or most of his girls for that matter, but then he slips me this address.”
“Could be a trap.”
“I don 't think so. Why go through the trouble of luring me somewhere if you already have me laid out in a dark alley.” “Don 't private I 's normally get framed for murder or something in all the books?”
“What? What, why? Why would you do that? You better knock on wood with all that voodoo your throwing my way!”
“Oh why 's it gotta be voodoo? Because I 'm black?
“Well... yeah