Write In The Middle Of It: Next Segment


Mekayla was shocked when she saw Brett smiling up at her. He began climbing the fire escape to join her on her landing.

“What are you doing?” Mekayla snipped.

Brett stopped at the landing below her with his eyebrow raised. “Coming up to see you.”

“Why?” She said frowning.

Brett’s face took on an expression of confusion. “Because I haven’t seen you all week, is something wrong?”

“If you only knew.” She answered while toking again on the little joint she had left.

Brett slowly continued up the fire escape. “So why don’t you tell me.”

Mekayla just watched as Brett made his way up to join her on the landing. She instinctively backed up against her bedroom door.

“Because I really don’t want to talk about it.” She answered handing Brett the roach.

Brett took it from her and inhaled what little bit was left.

“Was that a peace offering?” He said through smoke.

Mekayla shrugged her shoulders, “I guess.” A breeze had picked up and she began rubbing her arms to keep warm.

“Do you want my coat?” Brett asked as he tried to nuzzle his way closer to her.

“No.” She said pushing him away trying to avoid the wave of warmth trying to creep in between her thighs.

Brett frowned, “What’s the problem?” He asked with the utmost sincerity.

Mekayla chuckled, “You’re a trip!” Then exclaimed.

“How are you gonna act like everything is okay, like nothing happened between us last week?”

He decided to back off a little bit and sat down on the steps.

“I’ll admit I was wrong. But since then I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

She sighed heavily in disgust.

“Did I say something wrong?” He asked.

“No, no not really.” She said almost whining.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Mekayla didn’t answer him. It wasn’t because she didn’t know the answer, it’s because she didn’t like the answer. She liked Brett. She liked him a lot more than she was supposed to like him. In the beginning she was just using him as creative inspiration so she could write her book with a deeper more passionate perspective. That within itself was wrong. But it was dead wrong, to actually admit to herself that she liked the attention that he showed her. Albeit sometimes it bordered stalking, still she became aroused anytime he was close to her. She wanted him to touch her. But Mekayla’s own past experiences had taught her that Brett’s attraction would probably end the minute she gave in to his advances. At this moment she was overwrought with guilt as to why she was continuing the game, the game that ultimately ended her relationship with Kevin.

Mekayla tried to think rationally about it but every time she did it made her head hurt. Technically she was wrong for not fighting Brett off completely. But even if she didn’t kiss him, it still doesn’t excuse the fact that Kevin was dancing with that woman.

Who the hell was she anyway? She didn’t recognize her, so was this someone new in his life. Why was it that Kevin seemed to make time for everyone in his life except the woman he supposedly loved the most?

“Are you okay?” Brett asked her interrupting her thoughts.

Mekayla was annoyed to be disturbed and let her emotions show on her face.

“Like I said, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” he said, “I’m only asking because I care.”

His words seemed to soften Mekayla slightly and she smiled at him.

“I know. I have to get back in Erik will be here with my dinner.”

Brett let out a grunt of disapproval.

“What was that for?” Mekayla said through a chuckle.

“Nothin. You two are really close huh?” He asked.

“Like I said before, he’s my best friend.”

“And you weren’t lying about him being real protective of you,” he said smirking.

“Why you say that?” Mekayla said perplexed.

“Let’s just say he got one in when I asked about chu.”

“He did what!” She said angrily.

Brett saw her face become flush with anger and knew he had her back where he wanted her. He got up and gently took her hand.

“Don’t worry about it sweetie. I guess if I was him I wouldn’t like me either.”

Just then they heard Erik unlocking the front door and shuffling through the house.

“Shit,” Mekayla sighed, “Lemme get back in there, before he gets all pissed off again.”

“Can we finish this later?” Brett asked hopefully.

“Sure,” she said with her hand on the door.

Brett jolted up and planted a kiss on Mekayla’s mouth. She instantly became weak, grabbed the collar of his coat and kissed him deeper. When it was over Brett pecked her sweetly on her nose.

“I’ll call you,” he said.

“Okay.” Mekayla answered in full surrender. She entered her bedroom and locked the door firmly behind her. When she went into the living room, Erik was in the kitchen getting himself something to drink and a spoon for Mekayla’s soup.

“What’s up,” he asked, “You fire up without me?”

“A little,” she answered nonchalantly.

“Well I have some more,” he said smiling.

“Good,” Mekayla said taking her soup off the counter, “Cuz we need to do some heavy talkin.”


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.


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,


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.

to be continued…


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