Out for Blood - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

May 26, 2012 – Cincinnati, OH

     Stan stared at me as if he was trying to figure something out. As always, I kept my face devoid of expression. For some reason, Stan’s soft brown eyes were doing funny things to my resolve. If he didn’t stop looking at me as if I was some scared animal I was going to snap. He had no idea the hell I had gone through the past few years. The torment the nightmares had caused. Losing both my parents so close together had completely disfigured the loving child I had once been. Now I was a woman with a mission.

     A mad woman.

     The thought caused a self satisfied smirk to curve my lips. Stan shook his head - probably ridding himself of his own thoughts - as he sighed. “Come with me.” He finally muttered, turning on his heel without waiting for my consent. Taking off at a brisk stride, Stan made a beeline for a nearby parking garage. He didn’t even turn to see if I was following him. He didn’t need to. We both knew I would without question.

     The walk was nearly silent. The only sounds were that of the people around us and the incessant clicking of my heels. While I found the sound incredibly irksome, it somehow kept me focused and alert. Having something to focus on at all times stopped my mind from wandering down dangerous paths. Stan came to a halt as we reached his beat up truck. He beeped it unlocked and nodded for me to go around to the passenger side. Wordlessly, I slid into the truck as he started it.

     I didn’t bother asking where he was taking me. Out of the limited amount of people left on this earth that I trusted, Stan was one of them. I would place my life in this man’s hands and I knew with all my heart that he would protect me. But even that wouldn’t stop me from carrying out my mission.

     Time passed as fast as the trees flashing past my window and soon we were pulling up in front of Stan’s modest two story home. Sighing, I flung the door of his truck open and hopped out before the car even came to a complete halt. Stan’s string of curses followed me as I lit a cigarette and walked up the narrow path to the house. “Presley!” he called, his voice sounding exasperated, “You can’t just jump out of a moving car!”

     Turning to him I blew out a few rings of smoke before I spoke, “Can, and did. Stop trying to tell me what to do, Stan.” I said dismissively, continuing on up the walk.

     Stan hustled to catch up to me, glaring down at my stilettos with disdain. “What are you even wearing, young lady?”

     I sighed. “Stan. Stop. You’re not my father. I thought I was going to have to go into the club to find you, so I dressed appropriately.” I reasoned, tugging at the bottom hem of my black halter top.

     Stan’s eyes zeroed in on the cigarette still burning between my fingers. “How long have you been smoking?” He asked, blocking my entry to his house.

     Shrugging, I took a long drag before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stamping it out. “Sometime after my mother’s wreck.”

     “You should quit. Those things will kill you.”

     My head snapped straight up and I met his warm brown gaze with my own hard gray one. “I really don’t care.”

     Stan looked at me with regret before turning and opening the door, motioning me in ahead of him.  I stepped over the threshold, taking in the simple décor of his front foyer. Pictures of Stan’s family and mine littered the walls, giving the place a homey vibe. Refusing to look at any of the photos for fear that they would bring back painful memories I made my way across the hardwood floor and into the living room. Raising my head, I froze dead in my tracks.

     There was already someone in the room.

     His dirty blonde head of hair was bent over the cell phone in his hands, his piercing emerald eyes focused hard on whatever was on the tiny screen. His eyebrows that were furrowed together caused a deep shadow to fall across his cheekbones. The boy before me was probably a year or so older than me, and he seemed strangely familiar. Backing out of the room, I hissed in frustration when my heel made a loud clack against the wood.

     The boy’s head instantly snapped in my direction. His eyes trailed down my body for the briefest of seconds before he looked away in disgust. Just then Stan decided to enter the room behind me, lifting a hand to rest on my shoulder. The boy looked back to us and sneered at Stan, “Lowering yourself to jailbait now, Dad?” He asked, his voice laced with venom.

     Stan sighed, shaking his head. “Of course not. Landon you know who this is. So get your head out of the clouds and come say hello.”

     My eyes about bugged out of my head. Landon? The boy I grew up with that was shipped off to his mothers when we were seven? That was the full grown man that was standing before me now, staring down at me with such hatred I couldn’t even find my voice to respond to his quipped, “Hello, slut.”

The word hit me like a slap across the face. Drawing myself up to my full height I poked his chest indignantly, causing him to stumble back a step in astonishment. “You take that back right now, Landon Crowley.” I growled, glaring at him.

     He returned my glare, his green eyes boring into my own. Who was this guy? This was not my childhood best friend. But then again, I had changed as well. “How do you know my name?” He snarled, stepping way too close to me for my comfort.

     I expected Stan to jump in to rescue me, but he just stood off to the side with this irritating little smirk curving his mouth. Glaring at him, I turned my attention back to Landon. Taking a purposeful step away from him, I rolled my eyes. “C’mon now, Landon. How many girls do you know with eyes the color of storm clouds?” I asked, pointing to myself.

     Recognition flickered in his eyes before they widened to the point I thought they may pop out of his head. "Presley?” He asked.

     “Bingo.” Smirking, I crossed my arms over my chest.

     Landon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I’m so – “

     I cut him off with a raised hand. “Your dad’s a man whore. I got it. Don’t apologize.”

     “Hey!” Stan cut in.

     Turning my attention to the older man, I raised an eyebrow. “You’re really going to try to deny that?”

     Stan’s face turned beet red. Out of anger or embarrassment, I didn’t really know. Stan opened his mouth to speak, but Landon beat him to it. “What are you doing here, Pres?” He asked earnestly.

     Shrugging, I decided not to fill him in on my sinister plot. Landon was still pure. Still untainted by his father’s job. I wasn’t going to be the one to ruin that. “Your dad owes me a favor.”

     “Don’t lie to the boy, Presley.” Stan called, slumping down onto the worn leather couch. “Landon came home to train to be an agent. You can tell him.”

     Glaring at Stan, I huffed. “It’s none of his business.” I muttered childishly.

     Landon smiled, the gesture causing me to do a double take. His smile transformed his face. It was one of those heartbreaking smiles that could make anyone melt.

     Including me.

     Right then I should have walked out the front door and away from Landon Crowley. Unfortunately, I wasn’t intelligent enough to do so.