“Thomas,” she added, after a few seconds.
“Yes,” I said softly.
“I saw him,” she said, “He came to talk to me too.”
I was confused but waited for her to explain. Her slim hand picked up the wine glass. She looked up at me. Her oval face and full lips, outlined by the red wine, were testing my concentration and listening skills.
“He also told me, he’s my - err – father.”
I gulped down the wine in my mouth, thankful I had managed not to spit it out.
“Your fa – father?” I asked.
I realized my tone had not been very neutral and quickly corrected myself.
“Okay, tell me more,” I encouraged her.
“He knew my mother,” she continued, “at least he said he did.”
She looked down. I knew she had been closer to her mother than I’d been to mine. I gently put my hand on top of hers. That wasn’t part of my training. She didn’t move hers away and remained silent for a few seconds.
“And what did he want, Marion?” I asked.
It always helped to mention the person’s name, to reassure them that you cared. I didn’t have to force interest with her. Apparently, Thomas was a drug dealer and involved deeply in gang life. Gabe had been one of his crew, selling crack. Now Thomas needed help getting out of a situation with the gang. They were after him because they thought he’d stolen some of their merchandise, which he claimed he hadn’t. And of course, it was the most violent gang in the whole US.
I couldn’t stop myself shivering when she mentioned the gang’s name. This was not good news. She and Gabe were in serious danger!
“Marion, we have to tell the police that he’s with the BLs!”
“I know, I know,” she began, “But what if he is my father, Elena!”
I had heard all the dealers and users’ stories before. I had only been clean myself for two years and 11 months. I didn’t want to make her wrong, though I didn’t believe Thomas was their father. After the meal, I followed Marion out of the restaurant, towards her car.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to call the police now?” I asked her again.
“No, Ele –” she began.
She was staring passed her car, at the entrance to an alley. A group of five men began to approach us. They were not clients of the restaurant. I moved in front of her immediately.
They crossed the parking lot.
“Marion!” one of them called.
He had on a hooded top.
“What do you want?” I asked, moving my one leg slightly in front of the other and lowering my center of balance.
I knew their type. You could not show fear. I could feel my knife wedged into the side of my boot, where it always was. I could retrieve it in a split second.
A short guy with a shaved head took another step towards us.
“Where’s Thomas?” he asked.
Marion grabbed onto my left arm.
“I – I don’t know,” she replied.
He took another step closer. Marion moved behind me, but I stood glued to the ground.
He patted the outside of his jacket.
“You better not be lying bitch!” he said. “That cracker has run out of lives!”
“She doesn’t know him, now back the hell away!”
My hand was open and ready to grab my knife. I leaned down towards my boot.
He raised his hands in the air.
“Hey Ivana!” he said, “Chillax! We’re just having a conversation here.”
He took a step backward. The guy with the hood pointed at me.
“We’ll be watching you bitches!”
They turned around and disappeared into the dark alley.
Marion exhaled loudly and let go of my arm. She shook her head. I could see she was on the verge of tears.
“I’m going to stay with you tonight, Marion.”
I pulled her towards me and wrapped my arms around her tightly.
***
Marion closed the door of her apartment behind me, locked the bolt and latched the latch. I had been to her apartment once before when she needed to collect something. The open-plan kitchen and living room, looked even neater this time. The door to her bedroom was closed.
“I need another drink!” she said.
She removed a bottle of wine from the fridge, placed it on the wooden counter and retrieved two glasses from a cupboard. Her hand shook as she unscrewed the cap on the half-empty bottle.
“Here, let me,” I said.
I took the bottle from her and filled the two glasses three-quarters of the way.
“It’s going to be okay, Marion,” I said.
And I did believe my own words. I would not allow anything to happen to her. After she had finished her glass, she moved over to the sofa and opened her laptop on the coffee table.
“I want to find out about this man who claims to be my father!” she said.
I plopped down next to her and peered at the screen. In her position, she had access to a shared police and social worker database, which included information on gangs in the area.
Marion opened another bottle of wine an hour later. Her cheeks were already pink as well as her nose. Since I was much taller and bigger than her, I wasn’t quite as tipsy. After another glass, she suddenly put her laptop down on the sofa next to her, leaned towards me and kissed me.
I froze for a second and then allowed myself to kiss her back. Was she reaching out to me sexually because she felt safe with me and wanted me to protect her, I wondered. Did she feel this was the only way to get my help? As her tongue pushed between my lips, I stopped psycho-analyzing the situation. It felt too good to over think.
When she finally pulled away, she grinned at me and giggled.
“Sorry,” I said, automatically.
Her brow creased. “Sorry?” she asked, “What are you sorry about?”
“I err –”
“I wanted to kiss you, Elena!”
“And now,” she continued, “I am going to kiss you again!”
My eyebrows curved upward as her lips were, once again, fixed on mine. I had finished off most of the second bottle of wine myself and had little resolve left to stop her pleasant assault.
She suddenly climbed on my lap. I laced my hands under her pert butt, lifted her up easily and walked to her bedroom. I pushed the door open with my butt, swung around inside the room and pressed her down on the bed. Her legs remained wrapped around my waist as she groaned into my ear.
I slid my leg down between hers, rubbing over her mound. I had never expected this to happen and hadn’t even realized Marion was attracted to women. She pulled my head closer and stuck her tongue into my mouth.
I rubbed my thigh back and forth between her legs. Her pelvis tilted up to meet my leg. I undid the clasp of her cotton shirt and pulled it over her head. She gripped my full breasts after I pulled my own sweatshirt off and removed my bra.
I took hold of her hand and brought it to my mouth. I inserted two of her fingers and sucked them slowly. She groaned.
“I know an ever better place for that skillful tongue!” she exclaimed.
I laughed. “Oh yeah,” I teased.
I slithered towards the end of the bed, bent down and undid the bow of her wrap-around skirt. I unwrapped the one flap and then the other, to reveal her delicious white lace panties. I pressed my lips onto the top of her mound and kissed the heavenly spot.
“Hmm!” she groaned.
I slowly slid her lace panties over her narrow hips, revealing the thin strip of hair leading down to the spot my tongue most desired. I ran my tongue from the top of the strip down, over the warm skin, to the moist, hot opening.
My tongue eagerly poked inside the tight gap and savored her taste. I had always been into women and had not hidden that fact, but I still couldn’t believe I was busy thrusting my tongue into Marion. She’d said she’d recently ended a relationship with a guy she’d been studying with.
Her
body squirmed as I flicked my tongue over her swollen nub. I loved it when the fleshy spot was awake and sensitive. I knew just how to tease it until it made the woman lose control. And it didn’t take long for Marion to be pushed over the edge.
“Aargh!” she exclaimed.
Her pelvis jiggled beneath me, as her body surrendered. Her creamy juices ran over my tongue as I licked down to her sizzling entrance. I looked up at her from the V-shape of her slender legs. Her hands caressed her small perky breasts and her head was tilted backward onto her fresh-smelling linen pillowcase.
I licked my lips, savoring her taste as my hand wandered down beneath my own black panties.
Chapter 4
I fastened by bra clasp beneath my breasts and turned it until the clasp was in the middle of my back. When I’d woken up, I’d heard Marion in the shower. It was only 06:43. I could still get home and freshen up before heading to the home.
I wasn’t sure how Marion was going to feel about what happened between us the night before. When she stepped out of the bathroom five minutes later, she was fully dressed. Her hair was damp and combed.
She didn’t look me in the eyes.
“Not sure if you want a quick cup of coffee,” she asked, straightening out the duvet cover.
This wasn’t the time to discuss what had happened. I zipped up my boots, stood up and headed towards the bedroom door.
“No, thanks. I’ll grab on the way in after I’ve freshened up at home.”
“Okay,” she replied.
She opened the front door after I’d grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder.
“I’ll – err – see you later then,” she said, looking straight ahead at my chest.
“Yeah,” I replied, “See you downtown.”
I turned around and walked down the passage. I heard the door close before I looked behind me and shook my head. I hoped this wasn’t going to make things awkward. I didn’t have any regrets, but Marion might.
After a quick shower on my houseboat, twenty minutes later, I got into my car and headed downtown. When I arrived at the home, Marion’s car was not in the parking lot yet. I went to my office. I phoned the police Sergeant and informed him what had happened outside the restaurant the previous night. He said he would escalate the issue and asked if Marion was there to speak to. I promised I’d get her to call him as soon as she was in.
But an hour later I was back on the phone with the police. Marion had not shown up yet for work. Not only that, but she wasn’t replying to text messages or phone calls. On the last call, her mobile had been completely off and didn’t even go to voicemail.
“And one of the boys, Gabe, is missing too!” I exclaimed.
My pulse was racing. What had happened to the two of them? Had Thomas taken them or someone from the gang? I shuddered at the thought of either scenario.
“You have to find them! Those gangs are dangerous! I know!”
By the time the afternoon arrived, there was still no news on their whereabouts.
My mobile suddenly rang.
“Marion, is that you?” I asked.
“Ms. Dobrescu.” It was the police sergeant.
He had never called me by my surname.
“Ms. Dobrescu,” he repeated, “We need you to come into the station please.”
“Oh thank God,” I replied, “Have you found them?”
“Please come into the station, ma’am.”
When I arrived at the station, I was taken to a room and asked to sit down. The room was empty, except for two chairs and a metal table. I had never been in the back of a police station before, at least not that one.
A familiar face finally entered the room.
“Sergeant Anderson!” I exclaimed. “Have you found them? What’s going on?”
“Not yet, Ms. Dobrescu,” he said, sitting down opposite me.
He placed a manila folder on the table. I stared at it.
“I have a few questions for you,” he continued.
“What?” I said, “I don’t understand. I told you everything that happened on the phone.”
“Yes,” he continued, “I’d like to know about your relationship with the gang, the Albanian Boys?”
I leaned forward in my chair.
“What?” I said, shaking my head. “What has my juvie record got to do with this?”
“Please answer the question, Ms. Dobrescu!”
I hated people calling me by my surname. And the way the policeman was stating it now, it clearly sounded like an accusation.
I jumped up, sending the chair colliding into the wall of the small room.
“Are you accusing me of something?” I shouted, “Officer!” I added with derision.
The sergeant jumped up, came around the table and shoved me forcefully back into the chair.
“Hey!” I shouted.
He returned to his chair.
“I suggest you be more co-operative!” he said. “Tell me about your parent’s relationship with the Albanian Boys?” he continued.
My parents and I had received constant hassles about our heritage when we had lived in New Jersey. I had not had any issues living in Tallahassee, until that point. The sergeant’s whole attitude had changed towards me.
“What’s that got to do with Marion? Have you found them yet?” I shouted, “Or that slimy bastard, Thomas?”
“If you’re referring to Mr. Thomas Wilson, we have not tracked him down yet,” he said, “What is your connection with Mr. Wilson? Were you dealing for him at the home?”
I slammed my hands down on the metal table, resonating sound waves through the room.
“Dai Dracu!” I shouted. “This has nothing to do with me!”
“Sit down at once, Ms. Dobrescu!”
I slowly sat back down, breathing deeply as the anger simmered beneath the surface.
“Your record suggests otherwise,” he continued.
I shook my head. Who knows what those thugs were doing to Marion and Gabe, while the police questioned me, I thought, frustrated.
I had been arrested for dealing when I was 16. I’d thought it was a better way to survive than my mother had chosen, with the stream of strange men entering and exiting our apartment at all hours.
***
I spent three hours in the room being questioned by the police. Another officer finally came in and spoke to the sergeant. He un-cuffed my hands from the table. My frustration with the questioning had gotten a little out of hand when I had leaped out of my chair earlier and punched the policeman in the face. That had not helped my argument.
I couldn’t believe I was behaving like I had when I was fighting to survive on the streets. I thought I had changed and wasn’t that person anymore, but the situation triggered that side of me and I felt like I couldn’t control it.
I shook my hands out, all too familiar with the feeling of the cuffs cutting into my skin.
“You’re free to go, Ms. Dobrescu,” Sergeant Anderson said, “but, I’ll be watching you!”
They had received a lead about the whereabouts of Gabe. I had overheard the other policeman mention the name of a place I was familiar with. I needed to get there and see if they were both there. Who knew how long the cops would take to sort themselves out, I thought.
I glanced back at the police station, before climbing in my car. I would never look at it the same after the last few hours I had spent there. I felt down into my boot and touched the cold handle of my knife’s blade. Thank god they had not found that I thought. But now I may well have to use it, just like my father had taught me as a little kid.
***
I prayed Elena would find me, as my head swung to the left. The guy who struck me didn’t look much older than Gabe. He wore a cap turned backward and baggy sweatpants.
“Where is he, bitch?” he shouted. “Where is that stupid father of yours, Thomas?”
The rope cut into my wrists and arms as it pulled my back straight against the chair frame.
I winced a
s the sting set in. I tasted a familiar metallic taste in my mouth. Blood.
“I told you, I don’t know!” I cried.
I had woken up a few minutes earlier, hearing deep voices. When I opened my eyes, nothing looked familiar and the back of my head began to ache. I knew what that was from. Three men had snatched me from my apartment parking lot, shoved me in a van and bashed me over the head with something. The last thing I remembered was the smell of stale sweat.
“That fucker owes us, big time!” he shouted, “If we don’t get it from him, maybe we’ll get it from you!”
He ran his fingertip over my cheek. I flinched. “Your momma sure must have been pretty, if that ugly cracker is your dad!”
I spat at him and the saliva landed in a pool next to his sneaker.
“What the fuck!” he shouted.
He raised his hand and I watched his fist approach my face. Next thing I knew, I had a sideways view of the room. The rope cut deeper into my arm and my face and neck ached. My right eye began to swell shut. Out of the other eye, I saw something in the distance. It didn’t look like another gang member, but someone else on a chair too.
“Happy now!”
He didn’t lift me up straight. I blinked the eye that wasn’t swollen, trying to moisturize my dry contact lens. The figure in the chair appeared to be small, like a child. I shuddered.
I watched the man, who had been questioning me, walk towards a double steel door, push the one side open and leave. I couldn’t see or hear anyone else around.
“Hey!” I called out.
The figure on the chair didn’t move.
“Hey!” I called louder this time.
Still no response.
I sniffed as my eyes began to fill with tears. These guys were rough and wouldn’t think twice about killing me and probably whoever the other person was too.
I wished I hadn’t been so aloof with Elena that morning. Would she be able to find me? Or the police?
I heard a groan and looked up suddenly towards the small figure. They groaned again.
“Are you okay?” I called out.
“Wha- who is that?” a young male voice replied.
I recognized the voice immediately.
“Gabe!” I shouted, “Is that you?”
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