The Dividing Line (Book 1)

03 Ξ Frantic (BWWM)

Before finding him, Angel held no desire to undress anyone.

Five years away from people engraved in her an inability to get close to strangers. Those sensibilities were chucked out the door the moment she saw the fragile nature of his condition.

She was able to remove his coat, but still found herself faced with her most formidable challenge.

At that point, she had already replaced her leather gloves with two pairs of latex ones. She grabbed the scissors from her knitting table and moved to the next part of her plan. Since there was no other way of getting him out of the clothes quick enough to tend to his wounds, clean him up, as well as get the stranger dressed, she decided to cut his clothes off.

She proceeded to cut through the wet blood-soaked button-up shirt and the black jeans until the cloth fell to his sides in tatters. After examining her handiwork, Angel considered that the stranger might be angry with her for destroying his clothes; she had a feeling he would much prefer the act of saving his life versus leaving the garments intact while allowing him to perish.

Until she found him, Angel believed she had lived through the most horrific events in her life. As the skin beneath the cloth came into full view, she realized just how wrong she was.

What she saw was sure to give her nightmares.

An emotion scoured Angel's soul as she sat on the floor in shock waiting for her mind to register what lay before her eyes. But the woman was rendered powerless to move, speak, or even think of anything except the strangling fear creeping...

up

her
spine.

In response to what she'd uncovered, her hands dropped everything.

Even with a slightly blue tint to his skin and bruises everywhere, the graphic tattoos covering his body violently screamed out to her all she feared.

HE'S A RACIST!!!

The truth choked Angel's words as they clawed desperately to be released from the back of her throat. In her mind, warning bells sounded off in response to the dark meaning behind the pictures etched into his skin.

Her naturally carefree disposition crumbled as she gawked at the Grim Reaper casually centered across the man's chest. It was dressed in black much like the man whose chest it adorned. The thing held a long scythe in its bony hands with red demon wings stretched across its back. The beast hovered above a mound of skulls pointing a gnarly finger out to the viewer as if to warn that it would come for us all.

The vivid tattoo stretched from left to right and then from his sternum to his middle abdominal area.

Angel inhaled sharply as her eyes roved over his naked flesh with fear growing in the pit of her stomach.

The image on his right side sent an ice-cold rush of terror down her spine as she identified what appeared to be a red and white flag embossed with an eagle clasping the symbol of the Swastika in its claws. On his right arm hung black SS bolts with Brotherhood wrapped around the top and the word Forever swirled around the bottom.

She slowly made her way around to his left side where she saw ink etched into him forming a noose on his left arm with Death To All across the top and Jews, Niggers, & Queers at the bottom of the loop. His left side had daggers representing the symbol of the cross, and the words Race War swirled around it.

"What the heck will he do when he realizes he was saved by a black person?" She whispered aloud without hiding the fear in her voice.

Though it wasn't her first encounter with racism, she was ill-prepared for what she'd found.