Showing posts with label brothers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brothers. Show all posts

Saturday, 12 March 2016

FlashMobWrites 1x50 There's an Old Man




After half an hour, Emily’s phone rang. It was the usual drill on a first date; get your bestie to phone in case your date was a complete arse and nothing like his profile picture. Kyle was everything like his profile picture and more as the intensity of his smoky eyed gaze caught Emily off guard, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit it, had her lusting after him. There were no words needed as Emily texted her friend with a series of emojis leaving no doubt of Emily’s intentions.


“Your friend checking I’m not an axe murderer?” He curled his lips in a half smile.
Her body temperature rose, showing in her blushed cheeks.
“I take it, seeing as no one has come to rescue you and you’re still sitting here, you’re happy to continue and see more of me?”
Her body was now on fire as she spluttered on her wine, surprised it hadn’t turned to steam.
“I meant seeing more of what and who I am.” He refilled Emily’s glass. “Although, I’m not adverse to you seeing me naked.”
“Are you always this forward on a first date?”
“Only when I see someone I really like.”


The flirting continued throughout dinner and by the time they left the restaurant, Kyle pulled Emily into him, crushing her cherry lips, smearing her perfectly applied gloss. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent as his lips grazed her skin, feeling the throb of her pulse quicken.
Her hands came up to his chest as she peered over his shoulder. “Not here, Kyle. It’s too public. There an old man on that bench, getting a free show.”
He spun her around, facing the bench. “He's just a crusty old man. Your attentions should be on me.” He kissed her again, this time slow and sensual.
Both wrapped up in each other, neither saw the old man leap from the bench. Moments later, he’d shoved Emily to the ground,  ripping  her handbag that had hung carefree from her shoulder. A knife waved in front of Kyle as the old man demanded jewellery. Not hesitating, Emily stripped herself bare of anything that glittered, her eyes on the flashing blade. The old man ran, vanishing into darkness.


Shaken, sore and tearful, Emily sunk into Kyle. His arms tightened around her. It was a long night of strong, sweet coffee and police statements. All the while Kyle sat with her until they were alone. He waited until she sank into an empty sleep and left.


Kyle reached his dingy little flat in the small hours.  
“You took your time.”  
“She’s in shock. You surpassed yourself tonight, ‘Old Man’. She’s minted.” Kyle cracked open a beer.
“Good as that suit you’re wearing cleaned us out.”
“I have to look the part, just as you look the part, brother.”
“That wig itches. Next time, I’m the hot date. Cheers.” Bottles clinked as Kyle waited for his phone to ring.


494


Written for https://flashmobwrites.wordpress.com/2016/03/11/flashmobwrites-1x50/

    




    

Thursday, 16 July 2015

Thursday Threads It Better Be You

Brotherly Love

“And we just sit back and wait,” said Cane, dropping onto the park bench across from the apartment complex. He lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Not long now then it’s all over.”


“It better be. You promised me that bitch would suffer. So far, I ain’t seeing nothing. And Rachel’s up there laughing at me!” spat Daryl, pacing back and forth, glancing up at the top floor. His gut churned just mentioning her name.


“Trust me. Have I ever let you down before? She hurt you Little Brother so she hurt me. And I ain’t havin’ that. Now sit down before you draw attention to yourself.”


Daryl slouched next to Cane but his agitation was clear to see; his foot tapping constantly as he bit his already stubby nails. “I love her,” he muttered. “I wish I didn’t.”


“That’s why she has to go,” Cane replied with a sly smile.


They sat in silence, anonymous to passersby hurrying home from work, their eyes not leaving her balcony window when they saw the curtains flutter, shadows in the light. Excitement flooded through Cane as he saw Rachel struggle against a large, strong man. Her scream was stifled momentarily by a hand to her throat before she was thrown from the balcony.


“Fancy a kebab?” Cane asked, standing up, turning his back on the scene as a crowd swarmed. He’d seen it all before.


But he wasn’t going to tell Daryl that.  


242


Written for Thursday Threads hosted by Siobhan Muir over at The Weird, the wild and the Wicked