Write In The Middle Of It

Brett didn't remember beating Sadiah or leaving the alley. He didn't remember walking home, climbing the stairs, or entering his room. He didn't remember taking off his blood -soaked sweater, or blood splattered pants. He didn't remember putting his clothes into a trash bag before he meticulously washed Sadiah's blood off of his hands, forearms, face and scraped the blood from his fingernails. He didn't remember putting on his black sweats and leaving the room. He didn't remember throwing the trash bag in the dumpster behind his building.

He did, however, remember Mekayla's lips, her sighs, and her slight moans. If he closed his eyes, he could remember how her knees buckled when he grabbed her hips. He wanted to grab her breast out of her shirt and make her tremble, but he couldn't do that, in public. He would wait until she invited him to her house.

Good things come to those who wait, and Mekayla was more than a good thing.

Brett came to the conclusion that her man, Kevin, was an idiot. Maybe he was wrong by telling Mekayla that he didn't care about what Kevin thought, but it was the truth.

He didn't mean to make her cry. He just wanted to show her that she deserved to be loved in every way. Brett hoped she wasn't hurting because that was never his intention.

If Kevin weren’t neglecting her, there wouldn't have been any room for Mekayla to stray.

He knew that Mekayla was a good, faithful woman normally, and he dug that about her.

But why didn't Kevin see it? Did he not see the beautiful angel he leaves alone for lengthy periods of time? Why didn't he realize that Mekayla needed to be admired and showered with affection daily? Brett could tell by her receptive kiss that she longed to be made love to. Her man probably didn't know how to do that right either. He wasn't good enough for her.

And if Brett did everything according his carefully thought out plan, Mekayla would be his by Christmas and he would propose to her on Valentine's Day.

He wanted to call her but thought he would let the situation calm down some. He wanted her to reminisce on the kisses they shared. He wanted her to long for him like he longed for her.

Although he wasn't going to call her, he needed to be near her.

So he decided to walk back towards the club where they first met.

He reached the alley where he kissed Mekayla and smiled slightly at the memory until he looked at the dark part of the alley.

Damn Sadiah

He stopped at the top of the alley and closed his eyes and flashes of what he did to that little girl jolted his mind.

I never meant to hurt her, honest to God I didn't. But she didn't know when to leave well enough alone. I hope I didn't hurt her too bad. I should go look. But I can't look. What if someone saw me? I gotta get out of here. I can't think about that right now. I gotta get close to Mekayla.

Brett shook his head as if it was an "Etch-a Sketch" to erase the thought of Sadiah from his mind and continued down the street.

He reached the alley where Mekayla first playfully perched herself from a fire escape and smiled. That was the place he needed to be. He climbed up like a cat and then squatted at the bottom of the first flight of steps. He didn't want to alarm the people who lived behind that door. The last thing he needed was to be arrested for something stupid. Mekayla didn't seem to be the jailhouse wifey type. Nope, no way. He was going to play it cool. He would just sit here for an hour and replay the kiss in his head until he felt her mouth on his again.

Just then he heard the clicking sound of a lock. Brett's heart started pounding out of his chest.

Shit

If he ran, he would look suspicious, so Brett just sat there. The screen door opened and he saw a pair of feminine legs step out onto the metal steps.

He looked up and saw her wearing a red satin robe. He then inhaled the air.

No it couldn't be

But it was.