A chill walked Amara’s spine and broke her concentration on
the movements of the martial arts exercise. As she hit the wall to propel
herself into the air, she slipped and landed in a heap on the matted gym floor
of the church run community center. She peered toward the door. The local drug
lord and his nephew paused in the doorway. Ramos was probably headed to Father
Joe’s office for his weekly visit. Her hands coiled into fists.
Ramos moved away but Miguel sauntered to her side. He stroked her cheek with a finger. Her body
shook. Every day he grew bolder.
Miguel leaned closer. “Gonna own you, babe. Make you mine.”
She shook her head. “No.”
He leered. “Once I take you hard, I’ll own you body and soul
‘til I tire of you. Then my boys will have a taste.”
Words of defiance froze on her tongue. His hooded gaze
stripped her naked. He squeezed her breast. “See you soon.”
She rose and completed the final exercise of today’s martial
arts training session. A quick glance at the door showed he was gone. She
should have felt relief but her hands shook and the sour smell of fear
remained.
“Ready for a match?” another of the students asked.
Amara shook her head. “I have to leave.”
The teenager stepped closer. “Wonder what Ramos wants?”
“Father Joe will know but I don’t intend to ask.” With shaking
hands she pulled on her jeans and tee shirt and tied her sneakers. In a
half-run, she hurried to the door and left the community center.
Outside, aromas reached her. Cooking food, exhaust from cars
and busses. Her own fear-laced sweat. Noises penetrated. Music, horns, people’s
voices. Her head darted from side to side. Was anyone watching her?
What could she do? Each
time she’d encountered Ramos’s nephew her fear strengthened. Each time his
words carried the same threat.
“Gonna plow you good,
babe. You’ll sing for me real sweet.”
She had no one to guard her back. Hadn’t had anyone since her
father’s death. She sighed. She’d almost had a friend. An undercover cop had
saved her. Then Ramos had discovered the man’s identity. Seth had vanished. Was
he dead?
As she scurried toward the apartment building where she lived
with her uncle and his family, she fought to control the fear rocketing through
her thoughts. Her breathing came in quick gasps. After her father’s death and
her mother’s suicide, her uncle had reluctantly given her a home. Social
Security benefits had been the reason but she would soon age out.
My Places
https://twitter.com/JanetL717
https://www.facebook.com/janet.l.walters.3?v=wall&story_f
bid=113639528680724
http://bookswelove.net/
http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com
https://www.pinterest.com/shadyl717/
Buy Mark
https://bookswelove.net/walters-janet-lane/
Tense. The line about her "aging out" - she's on her own soon.
ReplyDeleteMay I suggest you go into layout on your blog and pull your margins apart. The edges are still being cut off.
Moving from this scene to ancient Egypt will be a big change indeed!
ReplyDeleteSounds like she's between a rock and a hard place. Easier to read if some of the words weren't cut off. Still an interesting hook. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDelete