As Yet Untitled by Mari0nete (classic books to read .txt) đź“–
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of light from a strobe passed over him and Toby got a detailed look at his face.
“Shit.”, he said to himself.
Two hours later, Xander wasn’t responding to text messages, he assumed she was with Maria but a quick drive by of the house showed her car still in the driveway and no lights on in the house. He knew Maria well, and she wouldn’t be asleep at only midnight. They must have gone somewhere. He had to find them before the hunter got bored picking up whores at the club and came looking for his mark. And of course it would be Xander. He slammed his fists on the steering wheel. That girl was going to get herself killed just walking around the way she did. He’d said one night many moons ago that he couldn’t deal with her exhibitionism, but here he was, trying to protect her, which was exactly what she wanted. He didn’t care if she was the goddamned princess of the entire planet (she wasn’t) she did not have the impunity she thought she had. He was walking, living proof. His eyes scanned the lush trees and manicured bushes in the neighborhood, looking for anything out of place. If he knew a grifter, and he did, he’d be out there, biding his time until the family went to sleep, and then break in and look for clues. He’d leave the family alone, maybe take a memento or two from Maria’s bedroom for later, and then finish his obsessive chase. God hope he never had daughters as stupid as Xander, or never had daughters at all.
His stomach grumbled menacingly. It was always harder to find someone when you were actually looking for them than when you weren’t, and that’s the way it was with women especially. Look all over for them to find out they’ve gone to Paris and back that weekend and forgotten to call. Stop looking and there they are, ass hanging out, in your least favorite club in town picking up stalkers. He stopped at a pizza joint, asked around. The doughboy pointed him to his large with extra cheese and to two hipster girls he’d said went across the street an hour or so before. He scarfed his slices and headed over to the motel. Fifty bucks in the palm of the desk-man pointed him to room 109. He was refused a key, no matter, he could easily crack the lock. Likely, they were too drunk to have clicked it all the way anyways. As he walked down the too-patterned carpet, past art deco wall sconces he worked himself up into a nice, red temper. He was fully prepared to bust in there and give them the whole what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-in-this-part-of-town-by-yourselves-speech, but what he saw as the lock faintly clicked open stopped him so that not only could he not yell, he could not breathe…
“Maria?”, he whispered slowly under his breath.
She was lying on her side, one arm protectively draped over Xander’s hips. They were down to their knickers, but weren’t kissing. They were sharing air and carbon dioxide between four swollen lips as if it was the only thing keeping them conscious. Why was he always left watching, unnoticed in the wings? As he continued to gulp and stare, Maria rose up, supporting her weight on one arm, and enveloped Xander’s face in a mass of her hair and curves. Her knee was…someplace inappropriate, but still he watched. Her hands were stroking, caressing, opening and Xander’s soft, milky white legs were sliding slowly in passion across the green bean colored sheets. Green like her eyes, he thought, but no sounds could come out. He almost choked up his pizza. A low, dull hum began in his ears as everything he’d thought he’d known about his two best friends rearranged itself in his head, and as he removed himself from the equation, subliminally. Xander’s eyes opened, and just as she turned towards the light from the open doorway, and as Maria shuddered out her last wave of passion and laid her head on Xander’s chest, she saw him. Their eyes locked for less than a millisecond and then everything blew apart. The pressure of a massive explosion knocked him off his feet, and then all was dark.
Imprint
“Shit.”, he said to himself.
Two hours later, Xander wasn’t responding to text messages, he assumed she was with Maria but a quick drive by of the house showed her car still in the driveway and no lights on in the house. He knew Maria well, and she wouldn’t be asleep at only midnight. They must have gone somewhere. He had to find them before the hunter got bored picking up whores at the club and came looking for his mark. And of course it would be Xander. He slammed his fists on the steering wheel. That girl was going to get herself killed just walking around the way she did. He’d said one night many moons ago that he couldn’t deal with her exhibitionism, but here he was, trying to protect her, which was exactly what she wanted. He didn’t care if she was the goddamned princess of the entire planet (she wasn’t) she did not have the impunity she thought she had. He was walking, living proof. His eyes scanned the lush trees and manicured bushes in the neighborhood, looking for anything out of place. If he knew a grifter, and he did, he’d be out there, biding his time until the family went to sleep, and then break in and look for clues. He’d leave the family alone, maybe take a memento or two from Maria’s bedroom for later, and then finish his obsessive chase. God hope he never had daughters as stupid as Xander, or never had daughters at all.
His stomach grumbled menacingly. It was always harder to find someone when you were actually looking for them than when you weren’t, and that’s the way it was with women especially. Look all over for them to find out they’ve gone to Paris and back that weekend and forgotten to call. Stop looking and there they are, ass hanging out, in your least favorite club in town picking up stalkers. He stopped at a pizza joint, asked around. The doughboy pointed him to his large with extra cheese and to two hipster girls he’d said went across the street an hour or so before. He scarfed his slices and headed over to the motel. Fifty bucks in the palm of the desk-man pointed him to room 109. He was refused a key, no matter, he could easily crack the lock. Likely, they were too drunk to have clicked it all the way anyways. As he walked down the too-patterned carpet, past art deco wall sconces he worked himself up into a nice, red temper. He was fully prepared to bust in there and give them the whole what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-in-this-part-of-town-by-yourselves-speech, but what he saw as the lock faintly clicked open stopped him so that not only could he not yell, he could not breathe…
“Maria?”, he whispered slowly under his breath.
She was lying on her side, one arm protectively draped over Xander’s hips. They were down to their knickers, but weren’t kissing. They were sharing air and carbon dioxide between four swollen lips as if it was the only thing keeping them conscious. Why was he always left watching, unnoticed in the wings? As he continued to gulp and stare, Maria rose up, supporting her weight on one arm, and enveloped Xander’s face in a mass of her hair and curves. Her knee was…someplace inappropriate, but still he watched. Her hands were stroking, caressing, opening and Xander’s soft, milky white legs were sliding slowly in passion across the green bean colored sheets. Green like her eyes, he thought, but no sounds could come out. He almost choked up his pizza. A low, dull hum began in his ears as everything he’d thought he’d known about his two best friends rearranged itself in his head, and as he removed himself from the equation, subliminally. Xander’s eyes opened, and just as she turned towards the light from the open doorway, and as Maria shuddered out her last wave of passion and laid her head on Xander’s chest, she saw him. Their eyes locked for less than a millisecond and then everything blew apart. The pressure of a massive explosion knocked him off his feet, and then all was dark.
Imprint
Text: *All copyrights reside with author. No republication or sale without express consent of author or publisher.
Publication Date: 11-26-2011
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