Shorts

LOOSE END

The newlyweds in their stylish, designer wedding attire looked positively gorgeous and radiant as they laughed and talked with an older couple. I drew a deep breath, then walked over to where they were, holding a tray of champagne flutes filled with Dom Perignon.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, would you like some champagne?”

“Yes, please,” the elder woman replied and took a glass. The others followed suit. For what seemed a millisecond, I made eye contact with the groom; his eyes widened with recognition. Quickly, I walked away as he began to choke on his champagne, smiling slyly to myself after I entered the kitchen. Ramona stood at the counter placing miniature quiches onto silver platters; I began to assist her.

“I saw Poindexter choke on his champagne, what was that about?” she asked.

“I’m guessing it’s because his marriage is pretty much null and void.”

“Really? And how would you know that?”

I shrugged, “Because he’s still married to me.”

'***

BUSTED

The crude tattoo of a dagger dipped in blood with two drops dripping from its point was on his left bicep. Mickey traced it with her finger. Her light, sensual touch piqued his desire.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“A relic from my misspent youth,” answered Gage. He met the gorgeous, shapely, Mickey, at Zenith, a popular dance club. He invited her to his place for drinks; now, they sat on his couch, relaxed and mellow after beers and shots of Jack. Gage was looking forward to the possibility of getting to know her even more intimately as the night went on.

“Every tattoo has a story. What’s yours?”

“I was in a gang.”

Mickey began to feel a shiver down her spine, “So, that would have been like, ten or fifteen years ago?”

“Something like that.”

“It’s amazing the red of the blood is still fairly vivid. Do the drops mean anything?” Her heart began to beat faster. She knew the answer, but she needed him to say it.

“Kills,” he answered.

“Wow; was it like revenge or settling a score--”

He shook his head. “Nah. Some random dude and chick getting out of their car. They didn’t even know what hit ‘em.”

“Please tell me you got that!” she yelled.

All at once, the front door was kicked open by the police who were waiting outside. They apprehended the stunned Gage, who realized too late that there is no statute of limitations when it comes to murder. When they escorted him out, he asked her, “Who are you, really?”

“Officer Michaela Harrison. I'm the daughter of that random dude and chick you killed.”

'***

MILES FROM HOME

I sat in the passenger’s seat mindlessly twirling one tendril of hair around my index finger. Alex was driving, singing along with Ed Sheeran on the radio. We’ve been on the road for hours. I stared out of the window at the blur of trees. It would be dark soon.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart.” He reached his hand over to mine and gently clasped it. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Where are we?”

“Ten miles away from the Louisiana border.”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

“Okay, I’ll stop at the first gas station I see.” True to his word, he pulled into the parking lot of a well-lit gas station and convenience store. He turned, grabbed my neck and began to squeeze tightly. His gentle tone turned sinister.

“I don’t need to remind you of the rules, do I?”

“No sir.”

“Good girl.” He put his mouth on mine. I hated his kisses; he slobbers when he kisses. I wiped my mouth.

“You forgot to uncuff me.”

“Oops, my bad,” he went through several keys on the keyring, found the right one, then, unfastened my leg iron. I went inside to use the bathroom. When I came out, he was making small talk with the middle aged lady ringing up the Doritos and Snicker bars at the counter. I was so tired of eating candy bars and chips; asking for something else might make him mad. I didn't want to do that again; I still have bruises from the last time.

I just want to go home.

The clerk looked at me, then glanced over at my faded photo on the missing child flyer taped on the wall by the door.

“You okay, darlin’?”

“Please help me,” I whispered.