Monday, April 13, 2015

Trinidad and April's Amelie






When he returned he drug Amelie to the shower after undressing her, making her stand under the freezing water. Sputtering, expletives flew from her throat.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She screamed. Black clothes didn’t flinch, he held her there several minutes before handing her a plush wash cloth.

“What I’m doing Ma is waking you up and more than anything washing the stank from you. Unwashed woman ain’t the business. It has been four days.”

“I am not asking you to stay here with me; you were a one night stand that refused to leave.” She screeched.

“I’m out but I will be back and get it together.”

Once he was on the sidewalk, he answered the beeping phone.
“Yea?”

“How is she?”

“She’s straight, no drugs yet but she drinks like a fish and her hygiene and mental health is off the charts.”

“No drugs?”

“Nah… she’s good on that but she is paying out the ass for this room and the champagne budget is ridiculous. She needs more than a watchdog…”

“Do your job.”

The phone went dead in his ear. He had followed her to LA and tailed her, standing on the corner for her to approach him. He was informed he was her type and if he stood anywhere near her she would make moves and she had. The thing was he was feeling for her, she was a beautiful and extremely damaged woman and he could only wonder how she got that way. But his job wasn’t to feel for her, it was to make sure she was safe and off drugs and in LA for as long as possible. He needed to stay focused.


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