Prison Promise

by Demi Vice

  “She was always smiling…always happy. Kind of like you, but ummm—it was more of an illusion.”

  “Whaddya mean?” Jack’s voice, thick and soothing.

  “She wasn’t really happy, not in the end at least. She bottled a lot of things up. Certain things she couldn’t tell Luke or me about. Things she assumed were better left unsaid. And things she assumed were better if she was no longer—”

  Alive.

  I couldn’t go on any longer, and Jack knew that.

  “It’s fine, Ahri.” Jack moved his foot back to mine. The same warmth and compassion as before.

  I cleared my throat, letting my memories fade away. “Thanks…so what about you? Any siblings—foster siblings?” I corrected myself quickly, remembering that Jack was an orphan that had been dropped off like a package with a drug problem when he was just a baby. Baby-Jack getting a shit life from the get-go. Although, somehow, Jack seemed to be doing alright.

  Jack’s bright eyes and crooked-fang gave me sweet relief.

  “I’ve had a lot of siblings. But only one comes to mind. Link—Lincoln. He was this quirky, nerdy, imaginative, smartass but pain in the ass kid. I was six when I met him, and he was only two. But for some reason, I liked him. Maybe it was because he was always trying to fight me or maybe it was because he was always with me, eager to learn. Either way, I liked him.”

  “Mama Baronski said we were inseparable from the beginning. We had this bond, stronger than blood, but the government ripped us apart. By eight, we went to separate homes, then finally when I was thirteen we got in the same home.” Jack slouched down the yellow booth, looking like a bumblebee with his black clothes against the tacky upholstery.

  “You didn’t see him for five-years?”

  “Oh, of course I did. We were only a few blocks away from each other, so I visited him almost every day. I would check up on him for a few hours until I had to go home. If it were up to me, I would have never left him.” Jack paused, smiling to himself.

  “On the weekends we would go to the library where I would help him with his homework. The little fucker was smart, just needed a push. People were still looking at his file, and I made sure he was up to date on his homework, projects, and grades. No one ever wanted to adopt a kid that gave two shits about his grades. Exhibit A.” Jack pointed at himself. “It was just one more problem people didn’t want to deal with after they’ve adopted.”

  Moving my foot closer to Jack, I caressed his calf. A faint blissful sigh left his lips then began his second entree. A crispy chicken sandwich.

  “You loved him, didn't you?”

  “Hell yea. He was my baby brother, and no one could fucking tell me he wasn’t. Blood or not, we were brothers. We were more. I remember when he was younger he lived in his Ninja Turtle costume—Leonardo, the one with the blue mask—for months after Halloween passed. He would cry and beg for me to be a turtle with him. Then one day, I fucking caved.” He laughed, rolling his eyes.

  “I grabbed a shitty old orange rag, cut out some holes in it and called myself Michelangelo to shut the brat up. Over the years, we dressed up every fucking Halloween. In the same fucking costumes. Link would put on the whole get up, I would put on the rag. Eventually, it was part of our tradition. No matter where I was or what I was doing. I was Michelangelo every single Halloween. No matter what.”

  Jack had the whole, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover,’ down to an art form. Their were layers to him, no one ever expected, and they were addicting.

  “What happened to Link?”

  Jack tilted his head and swallowed his food. “The lucky motherfucker got the fairytale ending. Adopted by some filthy rich family that lived in Golden Ridge.”

  “Damn. How the hell did that happen?”

  “His new daddy went to the same elementary school Link went attended. Daddy went to visit his old school, to donate money or something like that and Link caught his attention. To be fair, he was the only ten-year-old kid in mid-November wearing his Halloween costume. He was running in the halls, kicking his legs up and pretending he had two swords, wielding them in the air as he fought invisible enemies.” Jack shook his head with a wide smile as he replayed the memory in his mind.

  “Is that the friend you stayed with? Link?”

  Jack winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “No. Haven't spoken or seen Link in eighteen years. By the time I got home the day he was supposed to leave, he was gone. His new parents came early that day and took him away before I got a chance to say goodbye. What was worse? They did it on purpose. His parents never liked me. Labeled me a punk, a savage, before they even knew my name.”

  I nibbled on my sandwich, my heart squeezed painfully. Having someone leave you before you had a chance to say goodbye was possibly one of the worst feelings in the world. No goodbyes, no closure…no anything. Just abandonment.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Jack shrugged. “That’s life. Shit happens that you don’t want to happen, but I’m sure I’ll find him.”

  I nodded.

  At least he was positive about finding Link.

  We ate our food in silence. When Jack finished his sandwiches, salad and curly fries he stopped and looked at his chocolate cake.

  Was Jack full?

  “I have to ask, Ahri. Why did Luke go to prison?” Jack asked.

  I coughed through my milkshake, surprised. The question was so out of the blue. “Mmmm—he didn’t do anything. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “So, like everyone else in prison. He was innocent?” Jack cocked a brow giving me a devilish grin.

  I sipped on my milkshake and looked over at Felicia whose eyes were on us, giving me that same ridiculously happy face. She held her thumb up then down, trying to figure out where I stood. Right now, I was right in the middle. Slowly going to a thumb down mood if we kept talking about Luke and his crime, and the more I thought about Aurora or him.

  I took a long sip of my milkshake, avoiding Jack’s amber eyes. They always seemed to lure me in like a trap. They made me want to tell Jack everything—the truth. They made me feel safe, and I wanted to trust him. But in reality? I knew better. I couldn’t. I shouldn't. Even though I wanted to so badly. And even though my black butterflies were telling me it was okay to trust Jack.

  I couldn't.

  “My break is almost up. I’ll be back with the check.” I slid out the booth, slapping the wrinkles out of my diner outfit.

  “So, you’re paying, right?” Jack chuckled, snapping and pointing his finger at me like it was 1950’s.

  “Ha. Ha. Funny. We’ll have separate checks.”

  “Same check, baby girl. This was a date.”

  A blank expression masked my face.

  “No. No, this wasn’t. A date is a place where I don’t work, where you didn’t have lunch with your landlord's daughter just over a week ago, and it lasts more than fifteen minutes. Bonus, if you buy flowers, chocolates, and open doors for me. That will most likely lead to us fucking in the restaurant bathroom,” I spoke in a callous voice, even though there was a part of me that wanted all of that.

  To be spoiled, pampered, and taken care of. Not worrying about anything and enjoying the company of a man who made my whole body melt with just one glare. But that was a fantasy. A princess fantasy that unemployed Prince Charming of Birch Park couldn’t make a reality. I already used all my ‘luck’ to be where I am right now.

  “Wow, so many rules. Do we have to make this official and sign a contract as well?” Jack laughed through his question.

  My dimple appeared and Jack went quiet just staring at me harder, licking his lips.

  “I’m kidding, Jack.” I rolled my eyes.

  Kind of.

  Jack nodded, displaying a face that showed he wasn't convinced that I was joking. “I can give you all of that, baby girl…when you have a day off. Especially the fucking part.” Jack winked.

  “Or we can skip the date entirely, and get down wit
h the fucking. Tonight. Diablo’s. After my shift.” I bit my lip, leaving Jack with a little visual taste for tonight.

  I walked away from Jack, but I couldn't help myself. I peeked over my shoulder, linking with Jack’s eyes like he wanted nothing more in this world than to just look at me.

  I love that look.

  I really loved that look.

  JACK

  “Where’s my girl at?” I knocked on the wooden counter top to get Gomez’s attention. He looked over from the customer he was serving and shrugged.

  “She left, esé.”

  “Whaddya mean she left?” My phone blinked from 12:58 to 12:59.

  “I cut her hours today and moved them to tomorrow.”

  “When’d she leave?”

  Gomez scratched the black caterpillar on his face. “I walked her home around eleven-ish?”

  I sucked on my tooth. “Wow.”

  Talk about unlucky.

  I left for The Bayne around ten thirty to workout, thinking Ahri was going to get off at two. I wanted to have a few drinks and hang out with her, but I guess not. What was worse was that the girl wasn’t answering my texts. I told her I would fucking pay for all the minutes she wasted on me. But nope. Ahri was too prideful. Too stubborn was more like it.

  I let out a throaty frustrated growl, waved Gomez goodnight and lit a new cigarette before walking to the bakery.

  Jack: You better be in my bed

  Jack: Socks and panties only

  Jack: Ready to let the neighbors know my name

  At this moment, priorities were straightforward. My cock inside of Ahri’s tight pussy. Simple. It’s been too fucking long. Way too fucking long. There wasn’t a care in my world right now, aside from getting laid. I needed to relieve some stress which involved entering luscious holes that God himself set down on earth just for me to play with. I wanted skin to skin contact with a touch of choking, kissing, and caressing that involved my cute little stubborn pixie. And I needed it bad like a druggie needed his silver spoon.

  I practically skipped my way to the apartment, unlocked the way too many door locks I was thankful I didn’t have at The Bayne, and went upstairs.

  I checked Ahri’s room—clean—made sense. She slept in my room now. I don’t blame her. I spent good money on my mattress and sheets. I just wished I was home instead of hounding Link down, which was going fucking nowhere.

  I’m either that fucking rusty or Link wasn’t in Chicago anymore. Making my life so much more complicated than I’d hoped for. Not to mention I almost got the cops called on me over at the adoption agency when I’d tried to bribe them. The last thing I needed right now were cops breathing down my neck just after getting out of prison.

  I went over to my room. My bed was a mess and missing something vital. Ahri. I knocked on the bathroom door. No response. My body went heavy as my gut began to churn. I’d always been a ‘listen to your gut’ kind of guy before anything else. So, there was no way in hell I was ignoring it after seeing that bruise on Ahri’s hip. I still wasn’t convinced was from a fall. Like hell it was.

  I ground my teeth, feeling my heartbeat in every tooth. I shouldn't have stayed so long at The Bayne. I should’ve come back earlier or at least checked up on Ahri. Maybe I could’ve found out what the hell she was trying to hide. Because she was hiding something.

  Jack : Where are you?

  I death stared at my phone. My eyes dried out for five minutes until I called Ahri and it went straight to voicemail.

  Son. Of. A. Bitch.

  A low growl left my throat as my chest tightened and my body sank. My room looked exactly like I left it. Clothes the same order, camera still on my bookshelf, and the bed still messy. The leftover grilled steak and roasted potatoes were untouched in the fridge. Ahri didn’t snatch anything to eat. I moved to the bathroom. All dry and clean.

  Ahri’s apartment was exactly the same, but when I opened the bathroom door and saw the wet floor, my chest instantly loosened. Ahri had been here. I looked around her apartment some more. Fridge empty, sink filled with an empty leftover container, and her clothes rack had been moved around.

  I checked her bathroom once again. The standard aftermath of Hurricane Ahrianna. A tube of toothpaste in the sink, toilet paper hitting the ground, and her damp face towel on the edge of the sink. The only thing that was missing was her towel on the floor.

  I checked the hamper. Empty.

  Laundry day?

  The laundromat was open 24/7.

  I ‘closed’ Ahri’s broken door. I refused to fix it. It was easier to leave it as was than breaking in each time I was worried. And recently I’d been worried more than I cared to admit.

  I only spent a few hours at Birch Park a day, but I found a few minutes to walk past the diner and check up on her. Sometimes I would take a picture or two from afar, other times I would go inside and buy a slice of pie. Once her shift at Diablo’s started, I didn’t worry. Papi Gomez always took good care of Ahri.

  There were days where I wanted to super glue my ass down in the booth I’d claimed as my own at the diner and watch Ahri pull on a fake smile she invented to get money. A smile that did her dimple no justice. She saved her real smiles just for me. That cute one dimple smile that was getting more frequent each time we were together. One day, that smile will be permanent when she’s around me.

  I locked the back door to our apartments and went around the block to get to the laundromat, but it was locked. There was a faint light inside and the sound of a dryer, but the door was closed.

  The laundromat was self-served, running on coins that the owner came in a few times an hour in the morning to pick up. Other than that, you were alone. If I knew anything about Ahrianna. That girl loved to blast her music and ignore all signs of reality. It was cute, but dangerous if she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  I jogged to the back of the laundromat and checked the back door. Open. When I heard singing and a loud dryer machine, all my worries melted away. Ahri was folding—neatly wrinkling her clothes and shoving them in a plastic bag—with her back toward me.

  She wore a long white tank top that went over her ass which was so thin I could clearly see her pink and purple striped panties. She’d finished her outfit off with a pair of yellow socks going to her mid-calf, one higher than the other, and her gray timbs.

  Ahri’s music was blasting, and she was singing along with her song like no one was around. This was the first time I’d ever heard Ahri sing.

  She was terrible.

  I let a chuckle tickle my throat.

  She was so bad, but there was no way in hell that I was going to stop her from singing her heart out in a shitty old laundromat that desperately needed an upgrade.

  Ahri jammed to her song, did a little dance and spun around. She didn’t see me; her eyes were closed. She danced some more and tripped over her shoelace but caught herself on the folding table and continued to sing and dance as if nothing had happened.

  My soulful laugh echoed through the room. This was the first time I was thankful Ahri loved to listen to her music on deaf-level. I didn’t want to disturb her. I wanted to watch her in a state I rarely saw her in.

  Peaceful and happy.

  For those who saw Ahri, they knew she wasn’t a happy or mellow kind of girl. She kept her sexy bitch face on like a permanent mask, rarely taking it off. If she did, it was for two things: bartending and anything music related.

  And you Jack.

  Ahri was the definition of overworked. Dark circles, sunken in cheeks, and small and frail. Not by choice, but stress. There was a possibility she had even lost weight.

  My smile faded.

  I hated seeing her like this. I wondered what Ahrianna Lore would look like if she had eight hours of sleep, a proper three-meal diet, and a day of no work.

  You can give her that kind of life, Jack.

  Ahri pushed herself to the limit with two full-time jobs and school, which I was convinced was a waste of time. Ahr
i was not a business girl. It wasn't in her personality, and I bet my left nut she was going to be more miserable working in an office than working two jobs. I could never see her in a suit, nor did I want to. I want Ahri in her colorful, weird-ass, non-black wardrobe that always made me check her out for a little bit longer than I would have already.

  Ahri finished ‘folding’ her clothes and pushed the two plastic bags to the side. She hopped on the number twelve dryer machine next to the table. The second Ahri’s ass popped onto the shaky machine we made eye contact. Ahri wasn’t shocked to see me.

  She flicked an eyebrow up, pulled out her earphones out, and paused her music. “Took you long enough to find me.” Ahri gave me attitude as her lip curled at the corner.

  “Would’ve been easier if you just answered your phone,” I retorted.

  She shrugged. “My charger broke yesterday, and my phone just died.”

  I moved closer to her, placing my hands on her cold thighs as I searched her face.

  Two nose piercings on each side. Check. One small bump on her nose. Check. A pouty bottom lip that called out my name. Check.

  Ahri lifted her shoulders, her face reading: What? What are you looking at?

  As a smile spread across my face, red cheeks spread on Ahri’s. I continued my inventory.

  Front tooth chipped just a little. Check. A little black freckle on her chin. Check. One sexy dimple I could kiss, fuck, marry, and die for. Quadruple check.

  All her imperfections were there, and all of them more beautiful than ever.

  “I’m getting you a new phone for your birthday.”

  Ahri let out a dry laugh as she rolled her eyes. “Well, since there’s a make-believe birthday list. I want a pony named Sprinkles.” Her voice, dry and sarcastic. She tilted her head at me, her eyes narrow. “Where were you anyway? I thought you would be home—your place. I thought you would—your place.” Ahri lit red, avoiding my eyes entirely.

  I liked the sound of that.