Bzzzt.
Just as I slid into the shoes, my cell vibrated. I peered at the nightstand. Uncertainty pumped my heart three miles a minute.
Nothing good ever came from a call at this hour. Not even pussy.
I pushed out a nervous breath as I leaned forward and wrapped my hands around my cell. My mother’s call was one I dreaded in the wee hours. With Indigo still knee deep in the trenches, I loathed the day I’d hear my mother cry on the line while trying to explain how gruesome it was seeing his brain matter on the pavement.
Even the thought of someone bringing harm to the boy I’d helped raise into a man was gutting. I mourned my career whenever it crossed my mind. Because, Berkeley would bleed. And, Berkeley would bleed uncontrollably. My freedom would be revoked and the light of day would hardly see me.
Unknown.
I rubbed my eyes, taking another look at the screen. Nothing changed. Unknown was still planted there for me to see. For me to acknowledge. For me to wonder.
I decided not to do either and silenced the call instead. My legs stretched as my arms reached for the ceiling. I was up on my feet and headed for my think tank. Sleep wouldn’t find me again. Not any time soon, anyway.
My feet spread shoulder width apart. My right hand leaned against the metal connecting the glass of my floor to ceiling windows. My left hand tugged at the hair on my chin. Deep thought forced me to stare aimlessly out into the darkness.
Berkeley’s skyline was impeccable, but all a blur. Most times it was when I stood in this very same spot at an ungodly hourlike this one. My alarm was set for five thirty. Though only about sixty minutes away, it wasn’t four in the fucking morning.
My chest swelled with disappointment. The time of the morning was a distraction. It was something to blame other than myself for the depths of my frustrations.
“Should’ve fucking known.”
The whispers echoed in the silence. Their accuracy penetrated my bones with despondency.
Should’ve fucking known that ni–
I shook my head as the incomplete thought turned over and a new one began developing. The journey to Clarke was well-planned and poorly executed. Not on my part, but that didn’t change the circumstances.
I flexed the muscles in my back as my muscles began to tighten. My heart was heavy but my head was heavier.
Because you knew better. I chastised.
I’d waited for the same man to show his face for thirty-two years. Thinking anything would change after a few phone calls and a text thread we visited every few weeks was reckless of me.
The lies.
One after the other, they tumbled from the lips of my sperm donor. But, still, I found myself questioning why. It was pointless. So was the deep yearning I suffered every time I accomplished something extreme or was on the verge of it. Somehow, I became vulnerable and open to receiving love from a man who never truly loved me before.
He put three sons in my mother’s womb and left her to birth the last one alone. Indigo was the youngest of us all. Isaías was the second.
Neither of them were aware of my plans to visit Clarke. Neither one of them were aware of my plans to meet up with Pops. And, neither of them were aware that he didn’t show. But, the last bit was more believable than the others.
Absence had become a character trait of his. Optimism was one of mine. Together they crashed and burned, leaving me in the dark hotel room of a stranger with a splitting headache and drunken thoughts.
A beautiful stranger. I recalled.
Much of the night was a blur, but she was far from it. Her presence was magnifying. It enhanced every part of me.
I wonder if she knows she has superpowers?
I shook the question from my thoughts and unlocked my phone. My erection gradually stiffened and threatened to squeeze through the fabric of my briefs.
Asia.
Her image flashed in my head, provoking me with nudity. She was the perfect candidate to deflate my dick. It didn’t matter the time. With certainty, she’d come.
And cum.
