Excerpt from "Queens and Crescents" Part II
After reading The Blonde Vigilante's most recent piece of excellent fiction, I felt compelled to submit a little of my own. So, here is a small excerpt from my book, Queens and Crescents. A long time ago, I submitted another excerpt, click here if you missed it. Oh, and I changed the color scheme - this time for a l0ng time. Hope you enjoy:
He turned to watch her and said nothing as she passed. He breathed in the soft scent of her perfume as it lingered in the air around him, which, at least momentarily, erased the thick, putrid smell of a thousand cigarettes.
He felt both excited and frightened at the same time. He was surprised that she noticed him since a moment ago there had been no possible reason to think she knew he was alive. A million thoughts ran through his head in the span of a few seconds. Who is she? Why does she want me? What the hell am I getting myself into? Are these guys mobsters, or just her angry relatives?
He turned toward the two men and stared very casually as not to draw their attention, but it was too late. He was busted, and by the short, meaner one at that. The short one gave him an evil stare back. Sean nodded his head nervously back at the man and quickly looked away. He motioned for the waitress to come over and paid his check. He looked through his wallet and noticed the smallest bill he had was a twenty. His bill was probably no more than five or six dollars, but he had a beautiful lady waiting, so he laid the twenty on the table and walked out, not waiting for the waitress to return.
Sean walked outside to wait for her but was surprised to see her already there, waiting for him. “I thought you said ten minutes?”
“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” the woman said. She held out her hand.
“What just happened back there?” Sean asked. She grabbed his hand, and they began to walk swiftly down the street.
She looked at him and smiled a timid smile as they hurried along. “Not now. I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to worry about it. Let’s just go.” She smiled at him again, this time a little wider, which exposed her beautiful white teeth.
“Where are we going?” Sean was excited, nervous, and confused all at the same time.
“I don’t care,” she said as she squeezed his hand. “Anywhere—just as long as we are alone.”
________________________________________________
The goons quickly ran outside the bar, oblivious to the number of people they bowled over as they left. Frustrated and angry, Bruce looked at his partner, made a 360-degree turn to scan the surrounding area, and then looked at his partner again. He looked over Max’s shoulder and down the dimly lit street behind him. Bruce reached inside his jacket with his right hand and pulled out his 9mm, then reloaded a fresh clip. He placed the gun back into its holster and folded his jacket over. He nodded his head down the street. “This way,” he said.
“Should we call Mr. Romano?”
“No,” Bruce said. “Not yet. We can handle it ourselves.” They moved down the street.
Worrying Michael Romano by informing him of this would not happen. In fact, it would only infuriate him, and when the boss got pissed, you had better watch out, because more times than not that meant your ass. Heads would roll, literally and figuratively.
“Where do you think she went?” Max asked.
“How the hell should I know?” Bruce was trying to keep a lid on his anger, but between the broad leaving and his partner’s stupid questions, his last nerve was quickly being whittled down to a toothpick. He looked out toward the center of the French Quarter for a moment, then over towards Lake Pontchartrain. The wind whirled around him, momentarily cooling him a little in the midst of the balmy summer night. How the hell should I know? he repeated in his mind. He looked at Max. “We need to split up. You know, cover more ground.” He stopped. He thought that if they could find people in Cincinnati, then surely to God they could find someone in New Orleans. Really, New Orleans is about the same size when compared to Cincinnati.
Bruce pointed to Max what area he wanted him to cover. “What time you got?” He looked at his watch.
Max nervously ran his hands through his thick grey hair and then looked at his watch as well. “Ten-thirty, Bruce.”
“Good. We meet here at midnight. That’ll give us plenty of time to find her. If you run into trouble, call me. Don’t call Romano. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it. We meet back here at midnight. If there’s any trouble, call you.” Max pulled out a handkerchief. “What should I do if I find her? I can’t exactly drag her down the street by the hair. Christ, the streets are crawling with people.”
Bruce carefully removed his 9mm, pulled out the silencer in his jacket pocket, and screwed it on. He looked up at Max and flashed an evil, toothy grin.
“Do what you have to do, my friend,” Bruce said to Max, “and I’ll do what I have to do.”
He turned to watch her and said nothing as she passed. He breathed in the soft scent of her perfume as it lingered in the air around him, which, at least momentarily, erased the thick, putrid smell of a thousand cigarettes.
He felt both excited and frightened at the same time. He was surprised that she noticed him since a moment ago there had been no possible reason to think she knew he was alive. A million thoughts ran through his head in the span of a few seconds. Who is she? Why does she want me? What the hell am I getting myself into? Are these guys mobsters, or just her angry relatives?
He turned toward the two men and stared very casually as not to draw their attention, but it was too late. He was busted, and by the short, meaner one at that. The short one gave him an evil stare back. Sean nodded his head nervously back at the man and quickly looked away. He motioned for the waitress to come over and paid his check. He looked through his wallet and noticed the smallest bill he had was a twenty. His bill was probably no more than five or six dollars, but he had a beautiful lady waiting, so he laid the twenty on the table and walked out, not waiting for the waitress to return.
Sean walked outside to wait for her but was surprised to see her already there, waiting for him. “I thought you said ten minutes?”
“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” the woman said. She held out her hand.
“What just happened back there?” Sean asked. She grabbed his hand, and they began to walk swiftly down the street.
She looked at him and smiled a timid smile as they hurried along. “Not now. I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to worry about it. Let’s just go.” She smiled at him again, this time a little wider, which exposed her beautiful white teeth.
“Where are we going?” Sean was excited, nervous, and confused all at the same time.
“I don’t care,” she said as she squeezed his hand. “Anywhere—just as long as we are alone.”
________________________________________________
The goons quickly ran outside the bar, oblivious to the number of people they bowled over as they left. Frustrated and angry, Bruce looked at his partner, made a 360-degree turn to scan the surrounding area, and then looked at his partner again. He looked over Max’s shoulder and down the dimly lit street behind him. Bruce reached inside his jacket with his right hand and pulled out his 9mm, then reloaded a fresh clip. He placed the gun back into its holster and folded his jacket over. He nodded his head down the street. “This way,” he said.
“Should we call Mr. Romano?”
“No,” Bruce said. “Not yet. We can handle it ourselves.” They moved down the street.
Worrying Michael Romano by informing him of this would not happen. In fact, it would only infuriate him, and when the boss got pissed, you had better watch out, because more times than not that meant your ass. Heads would roll, literally and figuratively.
“Where do you think she went?” Max asked.
“How the hell should I know?” Bruce was trying to keep a lid on his anger, but between the broad leaving and his partner’s stupid questions, his last nerve was quickly being whittled down to a toothpick. He looked out toward the center of the French Quarter for a moment, then over towards Lake Pontchartrain. The wind whirled around him, momentarily cooling him a little in the midst of the balmy summer night. How the hell should I know? he repeated in his mind. He looked at Max. “We need to split up. You know, cover more ground.” He stopped. He thought that if they could find people in Cincinnati, then surely to God they could find someone in New Orleans. Really, New Orleans is about the same size when compared to Cincinnati.
Bruce pointed to Max what area he wanted him to cover. “What time you got?” He looked at his watch.
Max nervously ran his hands through his thick grey hair and then looked at his watch as well. “Ten-thirty, Bruce.”
“Good. We meet here at midnight. That’ll give us plenty of time to find her. If you run into trouble, call me. Don’t call Romano. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it. We meet back here at midnight. If there’s any trouble, call you.” Max pulled out a handkerchief. “What should I do if I find her? I can’t exactly drag her down the street by the hair. Christ, the streets are crawling with people.”
Bruce carefully removed his 9mm, pulled out the silencer in his jacket pocket, and screwed it on. He looked up at Max and flashed an evil, toothy grin.
“Do what you have to do, my friend,” Bruce said to Max, “and I’ll do what I have to do.”
posted by Barry S. at 3:45 PM
