D.O.A.

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D.O.A. Page 8

by Charlie Thomas King


  They moved closer to the bed. Her eyes sparkled in the candle light. She felt delicate in his hands. He wanted more. Her hand in his wasn’t enough.

  The bed smelled like cotton candy, her perfume. He wanted her so badly, more than ever before, which he had never dreamt was even possible. Their lips touched again. He felt his dick push against his pants for freedom. Their hands clawed at clothing, tore away the barriers. It all fell to the floor so quickly. Bodies shared their every secret in the burning candles’ light. She was naked before him.

  It was the sight he could swear he'd waited his entire life to see. Hallie’s hands ran the course of his body, grabbed wildly at his thick, solid cock. He pulled her body close, kissed her hard, pushed her to the bed and threw himself between her thighs to taste the rest of her. Her eyes rolled, she grasped the back of James’ head with both hands and pulled his mouth deeper into her.

  Rain crashed against windows. Thunder clapped in dark skies. Hallie’s body shuddered. Cum ran along James’ tongue. She pulled at him. James’ eyes met hers as he was still swallowing. “I want you inside me. Now,” she breathed huskily. They fumbled together, no hesitation. Hallie moaned as he pushed his cock deep inside her.

  Monday

  October 29, 2012

  Pain

  At eleven forty-seven James Kent’s eyes slowly opened. The clock on the nightstand showed the time. He thought he’d only nodded off for a few minutes, but had been out longer than he’d figured. Meanwhile, Hallie, naked and pressed against his own bare chest, was fast asleep.

  He absorbed the immensity of it all. Having laid everything aside and followed their hearts, James, for his part, certainly felt that the reward was well worth the risk. I’m not going to feel guilty about this one. He bent his neck slightly, softly kissed her silky red hair; the crisp, clean scent of Pantene greeted his nostrils. He tenderly placed her head onto one of her numerous pillows. He wondered why in the world she needed so many of them, decided just as quickly that it was irrelevant.

  He stretched, easing his lank body out of the small, brass-framed bed, made his way across the room, grabbing his underwear on the way. I'm not sorry, God. I so deserved this. And you don't deserve my guilt. He stood in front of the window he’d peered into at the beginning of the extraordinary night. He parted the cream-colored curtains and lost himself to the deluge in progress. He watched the water gather into trails, collect into small puddles on the window ledge, overflow, then roll off into the grass beyond.

  Hallie’s father had re-built the porch and its roof. He took care of his family, worked for them, provided for them. Surely he had seen Nick wasn’t treating his daughter as well as she deserved. James wondered, though, would Mr. Winters be any happier now that he was here? Now that she would finally leave Nick, be with someone better. James would be better. His mind played out scenarios until imagination gave way to recollection.

  Four years prior. He couldn’t believe it’d been four years already. Since he and his family moved in around the block from Hallie’s. Since he took out a hulking bag of trash only to see a young redhead ride by on a bright yellow bicycle. A wave that turned into a dinner with his family. A dinner that turned into a friendship. A friendship that turned into this, he thought, as he turned from the downpour outside to see Hallie still nestled in her bed.

  “But then...” his words drifted as his mind fell to Stacey’s dimly lit bedroom the week following his sister’s death.

  “I can't do this,” he had whined.

  “None of us can. Not alone, James,” Hallie soothed, brushing the back of his hand in circles with her fingertips.

  “But, I’m alone, Hallie. Now I’m really alone. My father’s disappeared when I need him the most.”

  Hallie’s presence was a saccharine-sweet song, a healing balm during those traumatic days, weeks, months that he’d felt so desolate; she always knew exactly what to say to James. How she said it added even more tranquility to his situation. Force. Loving force.

  “No, James. You look. I’m here. You’re not alone.” She cupped his two hands beneath her own, “You never will be.” Her eyes penetrated his.

  “Never,” she’d repeated.

  It was all a distant memory, yet her words were even more true now, as he stood in front of her window, transfixed by her majesty. More true now than it had been back then. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathed in the tranquil aromas of the room. He couldn’t wait to get back to that bed. He turned again to take in the rain-bathed nighttime scenery one more time.

  How well she knew the bad in him, and yet she accepted him beyond what he deserved. He thought about telling her what he’d been wanting to say for what seemed like years. I love you. Not like they’d said it to each other before, as friends, but as more than that. He wanted to stare into those serene blue eyes and say it plainly, with conviction. This was his life now. Hallie Winters was his girl, and he would do anything to keep it that way.

  A raindrop soliloquy, air filled with sweet smells, jasmine, vanilla, cinnamon and sugar, all perfect for the half-nude divinity nestled into her own honeyed dreams. His words. Her swooning. That’s what he wanted.

  Then reality came crashing into the reverie, and the bubble burst – blood red. He hadn’t noticed the old black Civic parked there. Hadn’t noticed it until the driver’s side door opened and Nick Russo stepped out onto the street, his dark eyes peering upwards. His eyes staring right into James’ shocked face.

  Monday

  October 29, 2012

  Flood

  He stood there, the rain raging against his face. His visage a forest ablaze with hate.

  James shouted for Hallie to wake up; he turned rapidly, began plucking up clothes, a string of curses falling from his mouth.

  Hallie’s eyes opened with horror as James tripped and slammed into the bed, falling across the mattress. She sat straight up in shocked terror as he threw on his tee shirt and scrambled to squeeze one leg into his jeans.

  “What’s going on?” she yelled with a hoarse voice, only half awake.

  James looked back at her as if he’d just seen Hell itself. “Hallie… it’s Nick.”

  They took only one panic stricken second to look at each other before James began to run, half-trip across the room stuffing his other leg into his jeans and collecting his boots. Hallie hopped out of bed, followed after him, gathering up her own clothes. Both of them unleashed curses as they went clambering.

  Chance, destiny, fate. Maybe an actual moment of caring about his girlfriend.

  God.

  Whatever it was, it had driven Nick down the block at just the wrong time. Never expecting to see his former good friend standing in Hallie’s window. Standing there shirtless.

  “I have an idea!” James said, sounding more assured of himself than he actually was. He jogged down the stairs, Hallie trailed worriedly behind.

  “I’m running out the back, I’ll run past him, take off, when he follows me, you’ll be safe.”

  “James -”

  Before Hallie could argue, he added, “I’ll lose him, I’ll run and he’ll follow, and that’s that. But I can’t stay, can’t risk you getting hurt. It would kill me.”

  Lightning flashed a horror-flick moment and they saw Nick’s silhouette beyond the front window. James took off towards the back door.

  Lightning flashed again. No silhouette.

  “James, where’d he go?”

  “I dunno, but I’m still running for it,” he called to her as he opened the sliding glass door. “Stay put; lock the door behind me!”

  James slid out into the wet cold, realized immediately he’d forgotten his coat. He took two steps to the right, decided to go left instead. He turned on his heels back to the other direction. Didn’t even know why. His mind was racing faster than he could keep up, trying to figure out how to out maneuver Nick without even knowing where he was at this point.

  He was complete stealth, but it didn’t much matter. Rounding the bend, James found
himself face to face with the hulking, absolutely livid boyfriend of the girl he’d just slept with. James’ face went pale as he let slip a curse into the roaring wind. Should’ve gone right after all.

  Nick smiled, cocked his head, opened his eyes wide. James tried to turn around once more, but instead, slipped in the mud and fell. The rain was coming down too hard, torrentially, everything was like swampland. James’ hands ripped at the wet grass, grasping wildly for traction. Nick lunged, fell with a wet thud as James got to his feet.

  Boots splashed through the mud at top speed. He’d never run so fast. His body plowed forward on instinct and adrenaline. Hopping a fence before he even knew what he was doing, he fell into thorns, weeds and rubble as he came over the other side. He struggled to free himself, spiny pricks slashed his bare arms. He cursed himself for forgetting his coat. He ran impetuously, instinctively, through the backyard.

  Right boot was coming loose. A second fence. His foot caught it and he face planted on the dismal wet surface that lay on the other side. Thank God it was just grass, not something harder. He was still bleeding from somewhere on his face though. Dizzy as hell. But he didn't dare look behind him. He pulled the bootlaces tight and stuffed them inside, took off to his race once more. Just one more house to go and he’d be at his own home, at last. He wasn't sure what he’d do then, but he kept running.

  His gun popped into his head for a split second. He cursed aloud. Scoffed at his own mind jacking with him. What was he going to do? Shoot his friend? He didn’t know what to do, but that sure as hell wasn’t an option. Fuck. Just run. The rain was damned near to blinding, no street lamps for beacons in the downpour, only intermittent flashes of lightning to guide his way. He couldn’t slow his pace. Didn’t dare. Through the pelting rain, straight to his car. He fumbled furiously for his keys. Didn’t know where the fuck he’d put them. He felt sick at the thought the keys might still be in his coat. At Hallie’s.

  He fought to keep the bile from rising in his throat. Stomach lurching, his wet fingers reached cold metal stuffed deep inside his front right pocket. He pressed every button on the key-fob until the car chirped. As he reached the handle, he heard Nick curse loudly from behind. Sounded far enough for safety, but James couldn’t be sure. He jumped into his car without looking back, shut the door quickly, started the car and slammed the transmission into drive. As he hydroplaned off his house’s side street, onto Joline, James looked back for the first time. He saw Nick running back up Truman Street to Brehaut Avenue, doubtless to where he’d left his Civic.

  A second later, James’ house disappeared from his side view mirror. He smashed the speed bump at double what he should’ve, lucky he didn’t tear something loose off the bottom of his ride. Hylan Boulevard, one of the main stretches of the Island, was in rain strewn view. Too much speed over the second speed bump, too. Still no headlights in his rearview. Sheets of wet collapsed onto his windshield, ran off to make way, perpetually, for more. He could barely make out the traffic signal up ahead, prayed it’d be green when he reached it.

  Neither. No light at all. Still more power outage. He hit Hylan in a slush of water and rubber, hoping the storm would keep any other vehicles off the road. Didn’t slow down, yanked his wheels hard right. Tires squealed against slick ground. The car spun into a slick three-sixty. James hit the gas and drove into another hydroplane. When he came back out of it, he gunned the gas. The engine roared and the Maxima barreled down the Boulevard, thirty-five miles per hour hit sixty, felt like he was airborne. That's when he realized he was on the wrong side of the road.

  Prayers for safety to a God he hated, he had two more blacked out traffic lights at the intersections ahead. No cars, please. No cars. Because he wasn't stopping. With the slick surface he’d have little luck if he tried.

  James could’ve sworn he saw blue HID’s hit the side view mirror right before his Maxima spun out onto Hylan; he knew Nick’s Civic wasn’t that far behind. Rain continued to kick up from the tires as his car raced down the Boulevard. He passed under the second and last light of the stretch. Not much of Hylan left for him to drive. The road stretched from one side of the Island to the next, but this was the end of it, only side streets and the river up ahead. He clicked his headlights off, tried desperately to see through the obscured vision of his tinted windshield now further restricted by the inundation, tried to use intermittent flashes of lightning to orient himself. It wasn’t working well. He was barely staying on the right side of the road. His thundering curses lost as the roar of the rain washed out the sound of his cries in the darkness.

  No mistaking the blue light in the rearview now; Nick was on Hylan, and there was no way of knowing if he could see James. Screw it; hit the gas. Fuck. Needle at sixty-six on the gauges. When the fuck did the car get there?! Craig Avenue coming up fast on the right, the end of Hylan Boulevard. Rapid beats to the break, slowed himself to the mid-thirties again, James’ rear end fishtailing with every tap. Make the turn or burst through the metal gate directly ahead, only two options left in sight. HID’s still a good distance away; no way Nick could see the Maxima. But if James made the right, it could lead to more goose chasing down residential side streets. No good.

  He ignored the DO NOT ENTER signs on his left, pulled the car hard towards them. The car bore into the skid as he pounded the gas, drifted between the short metal bars serving as exit gates for Conference House Park. Beat his brakes repeatedly again. Full foot planted. Car went into another full spin; nothing made sense anymore. Half a spin more and just before his car became one with the trees surrounding him, the ride stopped. He let go of the breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. He looked over what he could see of the property, a small lot for a small park. No one else there. Tottenville was thoroughly deserted.

  James still didn't know what to do next. Sit? Wait maybe? Wish those blue headlights would give up the search. He pleaded for them to return to the blackness from whence they’d come.

  No!

  Hallie. If Nick went back it would be even worse. James couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t hurt her. He had to stop his brain from scrambling, catch his breath, call Hallie. Tell her to dial 911 in case Nick did come back. He inched the Maxima deeper into the dark wooded secondary space of the parking lot, driving around the loop so he faced the entrance while he pulled out his phone. He could barely see anything out on the streets. He was sure the trees were shielding him from the street’s view as well.

  However, there was one thing he hadn’t thought through. Hadn’t thought that while slowing the car, hitting the brake so much, a small set of red lights intermittently appeared, a beacon despite the deluge. Nick hadn’t missed it.

  Headlights came glaring through the rain on Hylan. Illumination broke into the lot from the entrance, flooded it with that bright blue light, looking as though they wouldn’t stop until they passed right through the Maxima. James panicked, dropped the phone, pitched the shifter to reverse and punched the gas. He jerked back deeper into the lot. Mud and gravel kicked up as the wheels spun. The car only went so far before there was another tree; James had to stop short. Nick swerved and pitched his car to a vicious halt, just inches away. James was completely walled in by foliage, no way out but around the other car. And Nick was out of his car already, standing, blocking his only way.

  James was trying to wrap his head around it all. It was happening too fast. Nick’s hands slapped down on the Maxima’s hood. Rain pelted his face, madness on ferocious display as his lips snarled. He sneered like a wild animal. James struggled with his door handle.

  He prayed Hallie was calling the cops. Hoped they’d find him before Nick killed him. Forget The Job. He just wanted to live through the night.

  Nick was at the door, throwing it open, pulling James outside - all before James could register any of it. Jesus fuck, World! Slow down!

  The torrent tore against his face as Nick hauled him up by the front of his neck and squeezed; James choked, struggling against the sure, inexorable loss
of air to his lungs. Nick’s eyes screamed murder. His rage would not be subdued. The hate that fueled him an unrelenting blaze, he spat his words like venom, straining to out-decibel the downpour. It was working.

  “I told you to stay away from her. That means for-fucking-ever, asshole!” His tones were maniacal, terrifying; James cringed from the surreal aura of a world growing fuzzy.

  “I told you once. That’s all you get,” Nick said as he bounced James against the ground like a basketball.

  James’ right shoulder met the soaked ground with a pop; it felt like TNT had gone off just beneath the skin. At least the vice grip had let go of his throat. He pleaded with his friend to come to his senses, but his voice was too degraded to be made audible over the storm. James stumbled to his feet and Nick’s fist connected with his face - hard. Droplets of both rain and blood splattered into the air. The blow to James’ jaw knocked him off his feet and he fell back violently. He tumbled through the air, fingers flailing. Hit the ground rolling onto his already aching shoulder, unable to catch his breath or bearings. World, please! Slow down!

  Just when the spinning finally stopped, Nick was on him again, tightly clenched hammers thrashed down ferociously. Nick’s fists felt like solid steel. James did all he could to block the blows as he heard screeching tires a few feet away.

  Cops? Hallie had called the cops. But it was no salvation that had come. She was there now, too.

  James had told her to stay put. He struggled to scream no, tell her to turn back, but he couldn’t speak. The air had been beaten from his lungs.

  She was pleading for Nick to stop, but the rain swallowed her voice. Nick just went on, throwing wild punches against James’ already battered arms. James was lapsing into unconsciousness. Hallie started slapping Nick’s shoulders; he let up on abusing James, turned around towards the drenched redhead with her arms outstretched and stared down at the terrified girl. Desperately trying to regain his composure, James fought to gain his footing. He had to protect her. It was hard enough keeping his eyes open, but he pushed his body up. He couldn’t orient himself. Where were Nick and Hallie standing? Through heavy lids, he saw multiples of each. The precipitation wasn’t helping. He wiped blood from his mouth, rubbed water from his eyes, shielded them from the downfall. Everything hurt like he’d been through combat.

 

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