Blue is a 21 year old car thief. His life was going as normal. He'd drink a small slushy from the gas station and wait. Wait to see the perfect car roll into the parking lot. The fateful day in November was like no other. Well, that was until Blue e...
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author's note: sexual content.
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My head spun dangerously as I stared at Santiago, the water trickling down the expanse of his chest. I could feel his eyes on me, intensely moving down my body until they reached my eyes. His eyes intensified even more as he tried to catch my eyes, force mine to his. He did this often, stared into my eyes like he could then read the inner workings of my brain. And at some points it felt as if he could.
I looked up, catching his eyes and in them was the look of lust that still scared me. But this look was deeper then the one I'd seen in the past. That very first night we made contact, the night this all started.
Two years ago...
I downed another shot, the feeling of the liquor burning my throat as it went down. I fought the urge to cough and let my head slump against the bar. The pain in my chest was still there burning ten times harder than the alcohol. I ran, ran from my own mistakes and it still felt like they were haunting me.
It was stupid of me to think that he loved me, gang leaders don't love anybody. But I thought he did until he put that gun to my head. I met Marcus on the North East side of Kansas city. My brother had just been moved to Lansing Correctional Facility thirty minutes out. He paid for my food when he noticed I forgot my card, that was the first time anyone besides my brother had done something for me. He asked for my number and the rest was history. He taught me how to steal cars, launder money, and forge credit cards. He gave me a sense of purpose and kept me close by his side. He made me feel special.
It wasn't until I turned 18 and he turned 20 that he became more short tempered with me. He made me feel like everything he did for me came at a price, so I left before things got any worse. I visited my brother one last time, he told me to forgot about him, to forget about the city, to forget about Marcus and start a completely new life. So I packed my car with the few belongings I had under my name and moved to New York City.
Everything felt too fast here, the lights too bright, the sounds of people too loud. Finally though, I felt like things were quieter. There weren't many people at the bar, just a large tall man who looked like he was wound up with so much stress his shoulders would explode. The man turned to look at me, feeling my eyes on him. He was uncomfortably handsome with a strong nose, dark intense eyes, and a dazed expression.
"Enjoying the night?" He spoke lowly, his deep voice catching me off guard.
"Not really. You?" I tried to keep my words from slurring, trying to figure out if the man was as handsome as he looked in my drunk haze.
"No, but I think I know how it can get better." He spoke slowly, eyeing me like I would disappear if he took his eyes off me.
It didn't take us long to be in the back of a taxi, his hands moving down my waist. His lips devoured mine as I tried to keep up. We made it to the hotel, stumbling our way to a room. That night I felt special and i hadn't felt that way in a while. Despite us both being intoxicated he asked me so many times if what he was doing was okay. He was careful. Despite that I left early that morning and tried to forget about him.
