Write In The Middle Of It

Brett stretched out on the onyx satin sheets and he brushed Mekayla’s arm. He sighed and slightly chuckled to himself when he kissed her shoulder. Mekayla moaned softly but did not stir. Brett continued to rub her bare skin in amazement of how soft she felt. Even the satin sheets could not compare to the luxury of her buttery skin. He glanced around the crimson room and saw all of the miniature kittens delicately placed on the built in wall shelving. He hated those little statues.

If Mekayla didn’t express how much she loved them he would have gladly taken them out her back door and tossed then over the fire escape.

He returned his concentration back to her soft skin. The onyx sheet that draped down her naked back contrasted with creaminess of her complexion in such an enticing manner he couldn’t help but to put his mouth on her spine. She let out a soft sigh then rolled over to meet his face. She managed to smile before her eyes fluttered closed again.

He kissed her slightly parted lips. She returned the kiss softly at first before Brett lingered on her lips and drew her into his passion. He then slid on top of her and moved her arms above her head.

She automatically grabbed the black bars of the headboard.

As Brett entered her he hissed because she was so warm.

Soft like feathers.

The passion was so intense between them.

No matter how tight Mekayla held on to the headboard, it still thumped against the wall. The bed shook vigorously making it impossible for Brett to keep his balance on the slippery sheets. The headboard knocked harder up against the wall.

Mekayla moaned.

Brett started sweating, pillows fell off the bed.

The thumping became louder.

Urgent.

The kittens fell off the shelves and crashed to the ground. Brett saw the last kitten falling above him and tried to cushion the fall with a red velvet pillow.

Mekayla began screaming at him in Spanish and pushed him off of the bed.

Brett hit the floor pretty hard but when he opened his eyes again he immediately jumped up and looked at his small, empty, dingy bed.

Of course, Mekayla wasn’t there.

Why would she be? She deserves the onyx satin sheets and velvet pillows. She deserves to be caressed.

Down below the yelling and screaming of the Spanish lady interrupted his thoughts.

He went over to the window, peered through the sheer curtain and by way of the streetlamp, saw her throwing glass bottles at the building. The older lady and her husband lived in the room below him and they constantly argued. Except for the street cuss words, Brett had no idea what they argued about. He never finished Spanish in high school.

The pounding on the door startled him. He cautiously walked over to the door and peeked out the dirty peephole. On the other side of the peephole stood a stout, older police officer. Brett felt his heart jump into his throat as he took a step away from the door.

“Who is it?” Brett bellowed in a voice two octaves below his normal range.

“Police.” Officer Mancuso bellowed back in the same octave.

“May I help you?” Brett asked cooperatively but still not willing to open the door.

“I’d like to ask you a few questions.” Mancuso answered. Brett uneasily unlocked the door and opened it just enough to poke his head through. He rubbed his head as if to signify to the officer that he had disturbed him from his sleep.

“What’s this about?” Brett asked.

“Mr. Brett Saunders?” Mancuso asked as if he didn’t know.

“Yeah, something wrong?” Brett asked as if he cared.

“This young girl was found beaten in an alley not too far from here. Do you have any idea who she is?” Mancuso stuck an old high-school picture of Sadiah Gibson up to Brett’s chin. Brett took the picture and although the face smiling back at him was younger and far more innocent looking than he remembered Sadiah ever being. He shook his head, tried to hand the picture back to him and said,

“No.”

Mancuso’s face stayed stern as he didn’t accept the picture back.

Brett felt a chill go up the back of his neck as the officer said,

“Take another look.”

Brett knew all he had to do was stay calm. No matter what kind of mental breakdown he was having on the inside as long as he remained cool on the outside no one would know a thing.

That’s one thing about being crazy.

Crazy people know how to improvise.

“Like I said,” his voice not reflecting the emotions within, “Neva seen her.”

“Really?” Mancuso smirked, “Because we went to her job and she listed this you and this address as her emergency contact. You sure you have never seen her?”

Brett pretended to study the picture a little longer while he felt the nausea rise up into his throat to meet his heart.

“Nah,” he said handing the officer back the picture while he shrugged, “Maybe she lived here before, but I never saw her around.”

Mancuso took the picture back and handed Brett a card.

“Well how did she get your name?”

Brett shrugged, “I have no idea.” He again said without any emotion.

Mancuso looked at him skeptically, “You ever been to Daddy’s?”

Brett shook his head unconvincingly, “Nah, what’s that?”

“Strip club, outside town?” Mancuso frowned

“Possibly, I went but I never knew the name of the place.” Brett answered knowing he possibly dug himself into a hole.

“And you don’t remember that girl?”

“Like I said officer…” Brett said to get his name

“Mancuso, John Mancuso.” He replied.

“Officer Mancuso, like I said I don’t know the little girl.”

Mancuso snarled at the reference Brett made to Sadiah and said, “Well Mr. Saunders, if we have any more questions for you we’ll be back.” He removed his foot from the ajar door and while it was creaking shut he said,

“Have a good night.”

The door snapped closed and Brett instantly locked it.

“Yeah you too,” he said under his breath. He walked over to the sink and pulled the cord to turn on the light. He ran the water and splashed some on to his face before looking at his reflection. .

I have to get out of here. I have to get to Mekayla, he thought to himself as he began packing what little belongings he had.