Journey To Full-Time Writer – The Rewrites

So, I have decided to rewrite my first book. I don’t think I can in good conscience release my second book knowing that the first still needs so much work.

Sucks that my full time job is getting in the way of my writing time.


Short Story – Broken – Chapter Three

Jane found an empty seat and crossed her legs. She looked around and her eyes fell on one of the girls. She racked her mind trying to remember her name. Donna. Donna was supposed to share. Donna was staring at her. Jane realized that she had been playing with the purple scarf around her neck. She quickly lowered her hand and averted her eyes. It was a subconscious thing. At times she didn’t even know that she was doing it. Touching the scarf was a reflex. Whenever she felt uncomfortable or afraid, she found her hands moving to the scarf.

Donna picked up her purple purse that sat at her feet and moved to sit beside her. “I see you wear that scarf every time we meet. Why?” Jane looked away. “What are you hiding?”

“Donna, it’s not nice to pry,” Joanne said. She was standing in front of them and glaring at Donna.

“I thought the point of this group was to share?”

“It is and when Jane is ready to share with the group, she will. Until then, we let her have her privacy.”

“Does the scarf have anything to do with why you’re here?” Donna asked turning to look back at Jane. Jane nodded slowly. “Then I’m sorry. I just thought it was like a safety blanket, what with the way you keep playing with it. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“That’s okay,” she said her hand moving to the scarf. She caught Donna watching her and lowered her hand.

“Donna? Would you like to share with the group?” Joanne asked.

Everyone made their way over to the chairs and sat down. Jane felt like all eyes were on her as if she was the one who was about to speak to them. She lifted her eyes and saw that no one was watching her. Everyone was watching Donna and Donna was watching her. Jane forced herself to keep from touching the scarf. It appeared to be a bit of a mystery that Donna was desperate to solve and Jane wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t think she would ever be ready to share her life story with a group of strangers.

She still didn’t talk about it with her mother and best friend. That was how she found herself at the support group. They thought it would help if she shared with people who didn’t know her.

“Well,” Donna started. She looked away from Jane. “I’ve only been hit once. Alex wasn’t the hitting type. He was more of the type that liked to control everything I did and then beat me down verbally, but that one time he hit me. That one time, was like the wake up call that I needed. I never understood women who stayed in relationships when a guy hits you. I’m not judging anyone, because although he never hit me, he was still an abusive bastard. There was just something about that time that he hit me.”


Jane stumbled into the bedroom. She was wearing a white nightdress, nothing underneath in case Mason woke during the night and wanted sex. She looked at Mason’s sleeping form in the bed, his back turned to her and bare. She leaned against the door frame resting her head against it. She stood and watched as he slept. Her eyes were blood shot and glistened with fresh tears. Her right arm swung at her side, the kitchen knife in her hand banging against her leg.

Jane moved further into the room and climbed into the bed. She sat on her knees and stared at Mason for a minute before sitting down and leaning against the pillows on her side of the bed. She reached over to turn of the lamp and stopped. She pulled her hand back and left the light on the soft glow filling the room.

She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. A tear escaped her closed lids and rolled down her cheeks. She opened her eyes and raised the knife. In a quick motion she brought the knife down across her left wrist, slicing through the flesh and the vein.

Jane squeezed her lips together tightly to keep from screaming at the pain. She passed the knife to her other hand and raised her hand that was starting to slowly shake and sliced into her other wrist. The sight of the blood should have turned her stomach and made her sick. It would have years ago, but now she stared and the blood leaking from her wrists and felt nothing. She barely felt the pain after a while.

Jane threw her head back against the pillows, her tears soaking the case. She raised her hand and although she was beginning to feel weak and her hands shook badly, she brought the knife to the side of her neck. She didn’t have the strength to make the action quick and swift; but she had the strength to complete her task. Her wrists should have been enough but she didn’t want to chance in. What she wanted was for it to all be over with.

Slowly she pressed the knife into her neck as hard as she could muster and ran the blade across her throat. Jane could feel the blood running down her neck and falling on her chest as she dropped the knife on the bed. She didn’t struggle. She just closed her eyes and waited for the bright white light.

The blood soaked into the bed and pooled around Jane’s body. Mason rolled over and was soon lying in the blood. He jumped up furious.

“What the f-” His eyes fell on Jane’s near lifeless body. He could see that her chest was still moving with each breath but it was slight movements.

Mason grew frantic. He yanked the pillow case from one of his pillows and tried to use it to stop the blood from seeping from her neck wound. He looked down in panic and the wounds at her wrists. Mason reached onto the bedside table and grabbed his phone. He quickly dialed nine-one-one and yelled at the operator to get an ambulance to his home immediately.

Mason was covered in Jane’s blood. He had only left her for a moment as he made sure the door was unlocked and opened for the paramedics to enter. He didn’t want to leave her alone and sat with her, holding her trying with all his might to stop the blood. The paramedics rushed into the room. “I woke up and found her like this,” he said in a rush. Panic filled his voice. “You have to help her.”

He didn’t want to leave her when he paramedics had him lower her body to the bed and move away. They applied guaze to the wounds. It wasn’t enough to keep the blood from flowing but they needed to get her to the hospital. Mason threw on a shirt and followed the paramedics out of the house. He rode in the back of the ambulance with Jane, praying that she was still alive.

mason sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours while the doctors worked on Jane. Her mother raced through the doors and over to him. He opened his arms to wrap her in a hug but she stopped just short of jumping into his arms. Her hand came up quickly and she smacked him across the face.

“If she doesn’t make it, you won’t have to worry about the police because I’ll kill you,” she spat out.

“I didn’t do anything,” Mason said defensively.

“That’s the running theme isn’t it? If she survives, you will never see her again.”

“She’s my wife.”

“And she’s my daughter!” she shouted. “I will not let you take her life too!”

Mason lowered his head and ran his blood soaked hand over his head. “You can’t keep her away from me.”

“Watch me.”

The doctor came in to give them an update on Jane. She had survived. Her mother told them all that Mason was not allowed anywhere near her daughter and she alone went to sit with her.

When Jane opened her eyes the first thing she did was cry. Her mother rushed to her side and pressed the button to let the nurses know that she was awake. She wiped at the tears. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay,” she said soothingly.

“Why?” Jane cried. Her neck and wrists were bandaged and her neck hurt with every breath she took, but she cried. She didn’t want to be alive. She wasn’t supposed to be alive.

When everyone was sure that she was okay to leave and after her mother refused to have her committed in case she attempted suicide again, she left the hospital with her. Jane hadn’t seen Mason since the night she had tried to take her own life. Her mother had sent her best friend to the house she shared with him to grab her things. Jane went to go stay with her mother and was assured that she would never have to see Mason every again.

Before you leave me, I am raising money to get my dog Samson a surgery on his tumors. Anything that you can give will be greatly appreciated. Click the link to donate

Another thing, if you would like to become a patron and help me release my second book click the link. You can pledge as little as $1

Until the next time… Love, Peace & Chicken Grease.

Short Story – Broken – Chapter Two

Jane didn’t think she would go back to the support group. Listening to women talk about the abusive relationships they were in was not how she wanted to spend her time. It was depressing and she questioned whoever thought it was a good idea. She thought all of this, yet she walked into the building and made her way to the meeting.

Joanne smiled warmly at her when she stepped into the room.

“Ladies, please find your seats,” Joanne called out. She beckoned for Jane to join the group and sit beside her. It was as if Joanne was protecting her. At least until she was ready to share her own story.

All of the women filed over to the chairs and took their seats. “Jenna,” Joanne said. Jane found Jenna immediately. Jenna was pretty. A classic beauty. She had red hair that fell in waves down her back, green eyes and full lips. She ran her hands down the front of her purple skinny jeans and sat forward.

“When I was a little girl, like maybe ten or eleven, I fantasized about my wedding. All girls do that right?” Jenna looked around for affirmation. Every head in the room nodded. “I always thought it would be the happiest day of my life. That I would walk down the aisle and stand beside my prince charming and when he vowed to love and protect me forever, that he would mean it. I should have known not to go through with it when I got ready to marry Liam.”

Jane closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Jenna’s recount of her wedding day sounded a lot like her own. She had been terrified of what it would mean to be married to Mason, and yet she was more afraid to tell him that she didn’t want to marry him. Her mother was a big fan of Mason and always gushed about him whenever the two of them were alone. It had a lot to do with the fact that her mother was unaware of what a monster Mason truly was. If she told her mother to help her run away. To help her get out of marrying the man her mother trusted, she would have had to tell her the truth and that was something Jane didn’t think she could do.

She had kept everything a secret for so long, she figured she would just have to live with it. It had been her choice to start a relationship with Mason, and her choice to stay when things had turned sour. Making the decision to tie herself to him until death, had not been an easy one and she knew she couldn’t take it back.


Jane stood in the dressing room staring at her reflection in the mirror. She had to admit that she looked beautiful in the gown that Mason had helped pick out, no amount of makeup could hide the fear in her eyes. At least not to her.

Her mother walked over and stood behind her. She placed her hands on her shoulders and looked into the mirror meeting her eyes. “You look absolutely beautiful,” she said. Jane forced her lips into a smile. The act seemed false to her but her mother was oblivious.

“Thanks ma,” she said.

“You and Mason are going to be so happy,” her mother squealed. She gave her shoulders a tight squeeze and walked away. Jane’s smile faded from her face. She wished that she could believe what her mother said was true but she didn’t.

The wedding planner stepped into the room and announced that they had five minutes before the ceremony started. Jane closed her eyes and sent up a quick prayer that her marriage would somehow change Mason for the better. That her becoming his wife would make him become a more gentle person. The person she had met and fallen in love with. Her best friend walked over to her and caught her eyes in the mirror.

“it’s not too late to run. I could have you out of here in three minutes.”

“You know I can’t run.”

“You can’t marry him either.” She lowered her eyes from her best friend’s. The only person who knew the truth. She had found out after wrapping her arms around Jane for a hug and instantly stopping when Jane winced in pain. When Jane had tried to brush it off, her friend wouldn’t let it go. Even going as far as to yank up Jane’s shirt and finding the bruises around her torso. She constantly tried to talk Jane into leaving Mason but it was no use. Jane wouldn’t leave him and soon she would be in it for life.

“I have to go get married,” Jane said turning from her and following the wedding planner from the room. Jane stood at the back of the church from view as her best friend walked down the aisle. She took her spot at the altar shooting eye daggers at Mason the entire time. When the music changed, Jane took her mothers hand and they walked down the aisle together. She stopped beside Mason and he took her hand.

“Friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Jane and Mason,” the pastor began.

Jane lowered her eyes and blocked everything out. She didn’t hear a thing the pastor said and wasn’t sure where they were in the ceremony until she felt a tight squeeze of her hand. She winced and tried not to cry out. Her eyes raised to meet Mason’s. She could tell by the tightness of his jaw that he was angry, though he was trying to hide it with a smile.


She turned to the pastor. “Yeah?”

“We’ll try this again,” he chuckled. The patrons followed suit. “Repeat after me. I, Jane.”

Jane turned to Mason and opened her mouth, that felt like she had eaten chalk, and repeated the words the pastor said to Mason. She stayed focused through the rings and kiss. Mason bit her bottom lip. Not in a sexy erotic way, but in a way that was meant to cause her pain. She pulled her lip into her mouth and tasted the fresh blood there. Mason took her hand and led her down the aisle while everyone applauded and congratulated them.

They took their pictures and were ushered to the limo so that they could get to the reception hall. Once the door was closed, Mason pushed a button that made the partition separating them from the driver rise. Jane watched the glass move higher with dread filling her.

When Mason was sure they were alone and would not be overheard he turned on her. Her hands flew up to clutch his hands that were tight around her throat.

“What the hell was that?” he spat out.

He was squeezing too tightly for her to respond. Her eyes bugged out as she sat there, her hands on his hands but not fighting, and waited for him to remove his hands. He let her go and sat back.

“I didn’t hear him. Sorry,” she said gasping for air.

Mason stared as her, fury in his eyes. “Fuck!” he screamed. He reached across the seat and grabbed her bag. Tossing it to her he said, “You’re going to bruise.”

There was no concern in his voice. No worry or even regret. He no longer regretted the things he did to her. Only if he left a visible mark that might be seem by anyone.

Jane opened the bag and removed a mirror, her foundation and sponge. The limo stopped outside of the reception hall. Mason told the driver to give them a minute. He took the mirror and help it up as Jane blended the makeup on her neck to cover the brusies that were already starting to form.

“You bruise too damn easy,” he said rolling his eyes.

“Sorry,” Jane said. She didn’t know why she was apologizing. It seemed that when Mason stopped being sorry for hitting her or grabbing her too roughly that it left marks, she started being sorry for making him do it. They were some pair.

When she had successfully covered the fresh marks, she packed everything up and put the bag down. Mason opened the door and stepped out. He held his hand out for her to take and helped her out of the limo.

They walked into the reception hall hand in hand, both wearing large grins, Jane’s forced and Mason’s more natural, as they were announced and their friends and family stood and applauded. She had always wondered how he could smile as if he didn’t have a care in the world. It was as if he had not just nearly chocked her death in the back of a limo. Instead, he looked like a man who had just married the love of his life.

Jane wished that she could wear two faces like he did. She was sure that she did not pull off the happy newly wed as well as he did.

End flashback

“I always wonder why no one tried to talk me out of it,” Jenna said. “Why didn’t anyone stand up and object when the minister gave them a chance? Then again I know why. I had gotten so good at pretending that everything was okay, that everyone believed it.”

Short Story – Broken – Chapter One

Jane pulled open the glass door of the building and stepped inside. She walked over to the directory and found a printed piece of paper tacked to it. She read the information typed on it, her hand moving self consciously to the purple scarf wrapped securely around her neck. Jane took a deep breath and stepped further into the building, following the directions front the paper.

She stopped in front of a room with the door propped open. Inside were women of all colors, heights and sizes. They were milling around talking. Some were moving folding chairs to the center of the room forming a circle. A woman will short black hair, brown skin and a welcoming smile walked over and stopped in front of her.

“Are you here for the meeting?” she asked softly. Jane didn’t know what to say. She wanted to turn and room from the building but she had been told that she needed help. That she needed to talk about what happened to her. It was the only way that she would get better. “I’m Joanne. Why don’t you come in. We’ll be starting in a minute.”

Joanne stepped to the side to allow Jane to enter the room. After only a moment of hesitation, Jane placed one foot in front of the other and walked in. Joanne closed the door behind her. A sign on the outside informing everyone who walked by that the room was occupied by the domestic violence support group. Joanne walked over and stopped beside her.

“Come. You can sit by me. This must be your first meeting.” Jane nodded slowly. Her hand played with the scarf. “That’s okay. We were all scared our first time. You can just sit and listen. Sometimes it helps to just absorb others stories. When you’re ready, you can share.” Joanne turned from her and addressed the room. “Okay, ladies. We’re are going to get started. let’s have a seat.”

Everyone moved to the circle of chairs and took their seats. Joanne led Jane over to two seats, taking one. Jane took the seat beside her.

“Okay,” Joanne said. “It looks like everyone is here, so why don’t we get right to it? I believe Isobel was going to share with us today.”

Jane looked around the room, not knowing who Isobel was. A young girl cleared her throat and fidgeted in her seat. Jane’s eyes fell on her. She had curly jet black hair, brown eyes and olive skin. She kicked out her legs, her purple running shoes squeaking across the floor.

“Where am I supposed to start?” Isobel asked.

“Start from the beginning,” Joanne said.

“Okay, well,” Isobel cleared her throat. “I guess it started when I met Michael.”

Jane’s breathing increased as the story began. Her hand went to the scarf, running her fingers over the silky material.


Jane walked outside of the high school with her friends. They laughed and talked as they walked. When they reached the curb, they said their goodbyes and Jane turned to head towards the bus stop. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and put her headphones in her ears. With her head down she pulled up her music app and searched for something to listen to. Preoccupied she had completely missed the tall stranger stepping out of a house near the school and headed to his car. That was until they collided.

“oh my, I’m so sorry,” Jane said looking up. She stammered when her eyes fell on the guy she had ran into. He was tall and had smooth brown skin and full lips. His hair was cut very short and he had a large upper body likely the result of working out a lot. He smirked at her.

“No. That’s my fault. I should have been paying attention to where I was going,” he said.

“I shouldn’t be looking down at my phone,” she countered.

“Something interesting on there?” he asked his eyebrows raised.

“No. Just looking for something to listen to while I’m on the bus,” she said.

He looked behind him in the direction Jane had been headed and turned back to her. “Where are you going?”


“Let me give you ride. Hate to see someone so pretty on the bus.” It was a line and a bad one at that, but Jane wanted to take him up on his offer. She just didn’t know if she should. “I promise. I won’t try anything. Just a ride home,” he said trying to assure her.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know you,” she said.

“My name is Mason, what’s yours?”


“Nice to meet you Jane. And now we know each other, so can I give you that ride?”

Jane sunk her teeth into her bottom lip as she contemplated getting into the car with a total stranger. “Okay,” she finally said.

Mason moved to the car and opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in and after she was settled, Mason walked around the car and climbed into the drivers seat. He started the car and asked her where she lived. She gave him her address and he pulled the car away from the curb. Except for the music coming from the radio, they rode in complete silence.

Mason pulled the car up in front of her house and killed the engine.

“Thank you,” she said turning to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he said. Jane opened the car door and and stepped out. “It was nice meeting you, Jane.”

“You too,” she said before shutting the door. Jane climbed the steps to the front door and opened it. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Mason was still sitting at the curb. She waved goodbye and stepped inside. When she shut the door, she looked out the window and saw him drive away. The fact that he had waited for her to get safely inside made her smile.

That first meeting turned out not to be their last. Everyday after school, Jane headed to the bus and she ran into Mason. Thankfully it wasn’t literally. Mason always offered her a ride home and she took him up on his offer. They slowly began having conversations during the ride to her house.

She learned that he had recently helped one of his cousins move into the house she had seen him walk out of. They were close so he stopped by to visit often. He admitted that he also stopped by in the hopes that he would run into her. That made Jane smile.

He was a few years older than her but that didn’t matter to her. She was eighteen and about to be done with high school. Things changed when they exchanged numbers. Then they started staying up late on the phone. Mason no longer used his cousin as an excuse to see her. He pulled up and parked right outside of the school and waited for her to walk out and climb in so that he could take her home. If he took her home. There were times when they would go to his place to hang out, or he would take her somewhere to get something to eat.

They hadn’t discussed it but when her friends asked her who he was, she let them all know that he was her boyfriend. She was happy to call him her boyfriend. He had a car, a job and his own place. If that wasn’t enough he treated her like she was the only girl in the world. She often watched as other girls, girls she thought were prettier than her, walk by and Mason never tried to check them out. He kept his eyes on her at all times. That made her feel special. It didn’t even seem to bother him that she was only eighteen to his twenty-two. When they went out he would often order something alcoholic to drink and she couldn’t. He didn’t treat her like a child.

She was starting to see a forever with him. Jane had had boyfriends before meeting Mason, but there was something about him that was different. She was soon thinking of what their wedding would be like and writing down baby names, because she knew that one day she would want to have his children.

What made things seem perfect to her was the way he would also talk about their future together. he saw a forever with her as well. That made her feel like she wasn’t alone in it all.

Everything was perfect.

End flashback

“If I had known what our future would really look like, I would have run for the nearest exit,” Isobel said. Several of the other women laughed. Jane cleared her throat and quickly removed her hand from the scarf. “Five years ago I wouldn’t have even called it abuse. Now…” she trailed off.

“Now you just want to rebuild your life,” Joanne offered.

“Yeah,” Isobel said. “I want to know that I can do it without him. I want to do it without him.”

A few of the other women nodded in agreement. Jane looked around at all of them. No one had visible scars, but she felt like she could see them. The ones they kept hidden from everyone else were left in plain sight in their small room.

Before you leave me, I am raising money to get my dog Samson a surgery on his tumors. Anything that you can give will be greatly appreciated. Click the link to donate

Another thing, if you would like to become a patron and help me release my second book click the link. You can pledge as little as $1

Until the next time… Love, Peace & Chicken Grease.

Short Story – Like Father, Like Son – Chapter Five

Anger coursed through Tyrone’s veins. It was only matched by the intense fear that he felt. The fear of what his father would do to Angela. His dad could be ruthless and now that he had his hands on the girl that Tyrone was sure he loved, there was no telling what he would do. Tyrone needed to come up with a plan and he needed to do so quick. The longer Angela remained with his father, the more danger she was in.

Tyrone headed into his room to change into something to wear. When he was dressed he made his way to his kitchen and removed a gun he kept inside one of the drawers. He didn’t like being strapped. Especially because he was trying to distance himself from his father, but the way he had been raised taught him that it was better to be safe than to be sorry.

There was no telling what dangers lurked in shadows and he needed to be able to protect himself. The fact that he had been unable to protect Angela nicked at him like a pest.

Tyrone tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants and pulled his shirt down to conceal it. He grabbed his cellphone and dialed his fathers number.

“Yeah,” Mitch said after the second ring.

“Why?” Tyrone asked.

“Why what?”

“Why did you take her? She had nothing to do with this.”

“She was in the way. If she’s not around then you don’t have anything to distract you from doing your job,” Mitch said. Tyrone gritted his teeth. Mitch spoke as if it were so logical. He guessed in his business it was logical. That pissed him off.

“I want her back,” Tyrone said through his gritted teeth. He was starting to cause himself pain but he didn’t care.

“I can’t do that son,” Mitch said. The fact that he was speaking so calmly was only making Tyrone more worried for Angela. It also fueled his anger. If anything happened to her…

“If anything happens to her,” he said out loud.

“What? What are you going to do?” Mitch asked.

“Don’t do this pop,” Tyrone said softly.

“I didn’t do this. You did!” Mitch shouted into the phone. “You chose her over me. If something happens to her, you only have yourself to blame.”

“I didn’t choose her, I chose me,” Tyrone said. He was holding onto the fact that his father said if something happens to her. It meant she was still alive. It meant he still had time to get to her and get her back.

“Well, consider this my way of helping you make the right choice,” Mitch said. “What happens next is up to you son.”

The line disconnected.

Tyrone bowed his head in defeat. He would have to go up against his dad if he wanted to get Angela back. Going up against him would mean that somebody would die. A whole lot of somebodies. Tyrone would have to go in guns blazing and Mitch wasn’t going to let Angela go easily.

He would have to be the man he feared becoming in order to walk out of there alive and with a very much alive Angela. There was no other way. No way around it. He didn’t want to be his father. Not anymore, but it was how he was going to get his life back.

Angela was still alive. Mitch had hinted to that fact. That meant that Tyrone had time to get things in order. Time to formulate a plan of attack. He had to make sure that he did things right because one wrong move meant that both him and Angela’s lives were in danger. His father could give him. That he was sure of, but he knew that he wouldn’t. It would hurt worse if he lived but Angela died. No. Mitch Donald would spare him. If only to make him go through the rest of his life doing his bidding with the knowledge that he had caused an innocent woman her life.

Tyrone plopped down in the chair and buried his face in his hands. He needed a plan. A fool proof plan. So he sat and thought. He ran every scenario he could think of, through his mind. There were many of them and none of them ended the way he wanted. No matter how he looked at it, Angela died and if he went back to work for his dad. If Angela did live, he was still left to work for his dad.

His options were looking bleak.

When he had sat there long enough, he got up and headed out of the house. Angela’s life was in danger and he couldn’t afford to sit and continue trying to come up with a way out of it. He took one scenario and decided to run with it. There was no doubt that it would not go the way he wanted but he had no other options.

Tyrone got into his car and took the long drive to the Donald compound. The place he had once called home, now looked so unfamiliar to him. It would likely be the place he lost his life and for sure where Angela would meet her demise.

Tyrone shook his head to try and clear the dark thoughts that clouded his mind. He couldn’t continue to think about all the way things were about to go so wrong. If he did, then he would be off his game. Angela’s life depended on his. He needed to think positively, even if that wasn’t how he was feeling.

He pulled into the massive driveway and parked the car in front of the door. Tyrone shut the car off and climbed out. He took a deep breath and rounded the car, climbing the steps to the door. The door swung open before he got too close and Dave stepped out.

“Arms up,” he said.

Tyrone suspected that he would be frisked. He was the bosses son but at the moment he was the enemy. No one would take a chance that he would enter the house and not want to take out his own father. It was something that Mitch would have done.

Tyrone held his arms up and Dave searched him. He removed the gun from his waistband and then ran his hand down his legs looking for anymore weapons. When he found none, he stepped back so that Tyrone could enter the house.

“He’s in the office.”

Tyrone stepped into the house and moved through the place that had once been so familiar to him. He stopped outside of his dads office and knocked once. There was no answer. He opened the door and stepped inside. He found his dad sitting behind his desk, a gun resting on top of it within reach.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show,” Mitch said. Tyrone looked around the room. “She’s not here.”

“Where is she?” Tyrone asked.

“Close,” Mitch answered.

Tyrone knew that meant she could be anywhere. Mitch would keep her close but not so close that Tyrone would be able to get his hands on her. The house was huge. A mansion. Angela could be anywhere.

“I just want to take Angela and leave,” Tyrone said.

“Why don’t you sit down,” Mitch said.

It wasn’t so much an invitation as it was an order. Tyrone stepped further into the room and sat down in the seat in front of the desk.

“I don’t think there is anything left for us to talk about,” he said.

“I think you’re wrong.” Mitch pressed a button and an image popped up on the monitor by the desk. It was Angela sitting on a bed. Her hands and feet were bound and tape held her lips together. Although the camera was focused on her face, Tyrone could tell that she was crying by the way her should shook with each sob. One of Mitch’s men stood in the room with her, a gun trained on her. Tyrone’s blood boiled. He took a good look at the room she was in. It was the room he had slept in up until seven years ago. “I think you and I have a few things to discuss.”

“Why are you doing this?” Tyrone asked. “She’s innocent. Just let her go.”

“I will,” Mitch said. “If you agree to get back to work. I may even let you continue to see her. She is a pretty little thing after all. I may be willing to allow you to keep her. But if you don’t swear you allegiance to me, Tony will splatter her brains all over that room.”

Tyrone knew that his dad was ruthless, but seeing him now made him realize that he really didn’t know his dad. The man was willing to kill someone innocent and he wasn’t even batting a eye. It didn’t faze him to take her life.

“Well?” Mitch asked.

Tyrone had no other choice. “When do you need me to get back to work?”

Mitch sinister grin spread across Mitch’s face. He pushed the button and the image of Angela disappeared. Tyrone dropped his head in his hands. He had lost his way out.

Before you leave me, I am raising money to get my dog Samson a surgery on his tumors. Anything that you can give will be greatly appreciated. Click the link to donate

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Until the next time… Love, Peace & Chicken Grease.

Short Story – Like Father, Like Son – Chapter Four

“Your time is up, son,” Mitch said.

Tyrone stepped further into his apartment. He knew that when he got home, he would find him there. It was week eight and Tyrone had made no move to call his father and get his next assignment. It was only a matter of time before Mitch showed up to pull him back in.

“Hey pop,” Tyrone said.

“I’ve given you more than enough time to get your shit together. Now I need you back to work,” Mitch said.

“I can’t do that,” Tyrone said.

“Excuse me?” Mitch looked up. “What did you say?”

“I can’t come work for you again,” Tyrone said.

“I don’t think I heard you correctly,” Mitch said. He had heard correctly but he was giving Tyrone a chance to take it back.

“Pop, I have a job and I can’t just up and leave to run for you. Not anymore. I don’t want to do it anymore. You have to find someone else,” Tyrone tried to explain.

Neither of them spoke for what felt like an eternity to Tyrone.

“I need you to think about what you are saying, son,” Mitch said rising from his seat.

“I did think about it. For seven years I thought about it. I don’t want to do it anymore,” Tyrone said.

“One day everything I have will be yours and I’ve told you before that you have to work your way up from the bottom. Learn everything there is to know. If doing a little bit of time is enough to get you to learn from your mistakes and not get caught again, then you do the time. You will get back to work,” Mitch said calmly.

“Find someone else,” Tyrone said.

Mitch’s eyes narrowed. His chest rose and fell heavily.

“Are you disobeying me?” Mitch asked.

“It’s not disobeying, it’s being an adult and making my own choice. I’m not you. You wanted this life and seven years ago I thought I wanted it too but I don’t. Consider me out of the family business. You are going to have to find someone else to pass it on to,” Tyrone said.

“I know what this is about,” Mitch said. “It’s about that little bitch you met at that bar.”

“She’s not a bitch and it has nothing to do with her,” Tyrone said.

“Yeah. You went there and got yourself a little job, which I allowed because you needed a cover but then you started banging that bitch that owns the place and now you think you’re too good to work for me,” Mitch said.

“I told you I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Angela has nothing to do with this,” Tyrone said.

“Angela,” Mitch said.

Tyrone stared at his father trying to figure out what he was up to.

“This was my decision, I was just trying to find a way to tell you,” Tyrone said.

“You’re choosing her?” Mitch asked.

“No,” Tyrone said quickly.

“You’re choosing her,” Mitch said again.

“Pop, no. I’m choosing me,” Tyrone said. He needed to get through his father. He had to make him see that Angela had nothing to do with his decision to quit the business. Mitch focusing too much on Angela was not a good sign.

“You will come back to work for me,” Mitch said.

“No, I won’t,” Tyrone said. “I’m changing my mind on this. I’m done with all of it.”

“Is that your final answer?” Mitch asked.

“Yeah,” Tyrone said.

Mitch moved past him and left the apartment without another word, the door slamming shut behind him. He let out a breath and stared at the closed door. Tyrone had expected more of a fight from him. For him to leave without putting his hands on Tyrone to make his point known was a surprise. Tyrone knew his father had something up his sleeve. He just wished he knew what it was.

Tyrone jumped up at the sound of the loud crash. Angela moved beside him.

“What was that?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” Tyrone said.

She grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head. Tyrone climbed out of the bed and moved to the door. Angela got up and followed him.

“Wait here,” he said.

“No. If you’re going out there, so am I,” she said defiantly. Tyrone let out a sigh and slowly pulled the door open so that it didn’t make any sound. He crept out of the room with Angela close behind. They could see that the door had been broken and lay on the floor. Tyrone reached into the drawer of the table by the bedroom door and removed a gun. “What are you doing with a gun?” He held his finger to his lips and signaled for her to be quiet.

Tyrone moved further into the room. He looked around trying to see if he could make out any shapes of the intruders. He heard a noise to his right and turned quickly. Not quick enough. Angela let out a scream but then everything went black.

When Tyrone came to, he was lying on his stomach on the floor. The gun was gone and his head was throbbing. He got his bearings and managed to get to his feet. After looking around the apartment he realized that his gun wasn’t the only thing missing. Angela was gone too.

He immediately knew who was behind it all. His father had taken Angela. Now he had to get her back.

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Short Story – Like Father, Like Son – Chapter Three

Tyrone stepped walked into the bar and made his way over to sit on one of the empty stools. He tapped his fingers on the top of the bar and lowed his head. His “vacation” was almost over and he had yet to find a job. The closer he got to his seven weeks being up, the more it seemed that he would end up back working for his father.

No one was hiring and if they were, they weren’t interested in giving him a job. They didn’t want to take the chance on him. Things weren’t looking too good for him and it was bringing his spirit down. At one time he thought he might have actually had a chance to leave his father’s world behind. Now, he felt like it was all he would ever be able to do.

“What can I get you?”

Tyrone looked up to see who had interrupted his small pity party and his eyes fell on the female bartender. Her hair was pulled back in a puff and had no makeup on her face and that didn’t bother him because she was beautiful. She arched her eyebrows at him when he failed to answer her.

“Henny,” he said.

She nodded and grabbed a cup quickly placing ice inside and filling it with the dark liquor. She placed it on the bar in front of him with a single napkin. “Seven,” she said. Tyrone took the money from his pocket and placed it on the bar. She grabbed the money, placed it into the cash drawer and moved away to wait on other patrons. He walked her move effortlessly around the bar, taking and filling orders.

He raised the cup to his lips and took a big gulp. He relished in the burn down his throat The artificial liquor made in prison would never be able to match up to the feeling on having a real drink. Tyrone felt his phone buzz i n his pocket. He removed it and looked down at the screen. He wasn’t surprised to see that it was a text message from Dave reminding him he had two weeks left.

Tyrone stared down at the cup a while before picking it up and downing the rest of the contents. He was feeling like he should just give up. He spent so much time applying to so many places and it was getting him nowhere. Tyrone was so focused on his predicament that he didn’t notice the bartender sat a new drink in front of him, until she removed his empty cup.

“Thanks,” he said looking up.

“No problem. You look like you could use another one.” She walked away not waiting for him to pay her for the drink. He took a big gulp from the cup and then stared down at his phone in his hand. He was thinking about texting Dave to tell him he would be back to work as soon as his dad had a job for him. The bartender walked over and stood in front of him. Everyone had been waited on and she had nothing better to do.

“So, what’s got your undies in a bunch,” she asked.

“What?” He looked up at her confused and surprised that she was talking to him.

“You look like you just lost your best friend. Is that it?” she asked. “Someone die and you’re here drowning your sorrows?”

“Nah. Nobody died.”

“So, what’s up then? Something’s got your face looking like that and the way you keep staring at that phone.”

Tyrone stared at her wondering if he should confide in her. That’s what bartenders were there for right? They served drinks and occasionally listened to peoples problems, but could he trust her? That was the question. She stared at him, not speaking, just patiently waiting for him to open up.

“I’m just under a bit of stress,” he said. That should be enough to pacify her.

“Aren’t we all,” she scoffed. “What are you stressed about?”

“Look, I’m not that big on talking about what’s bothering me. Especially not with someone I don’t know.”

“I’m Angela. What’s your name?”


“Okay, Tyrone. now we’re not strangers, so what’s stressing you?”

He couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head. It was clear that she wasn’t going to let up. “I’m having a little trouble finding a job and if I don’t find one soon, I’m going to have to go work for my father.” There. He laid it all out there for her. She had been interested, so he told her.

“I wouldn’t stress about it. Finding a job is hard. Something will come up.”

“Yeah, people aren’t really that interested in hiring a felon,” he said.

“What did you go away for her?”

“Transporting drugs, which I will be back doing if I can’t find a normal job.” He didn’t know why he had told her that, but before he could stop himself it was all out there.

“That’s the job you’ll have to do for your father?” she asked.


“But you don’t want to do that? You want a normal job?”

“Yup,” he repeated.

“Alright, you’re hired.”


“I’m assuming you’ve never served drinks before but I can teach you that. In the meantime you can work bar-back until you’ve mastered bartending-”

“What are you talking about?” he asked cutting her off.

“You said you need a job and I need some help around here. So you’re hired,” she said simply.

“You’re kidding me right?”

“No. If you want the job it’s yours.”

“You can’t just hire me.”

“Why not? This is my place and I call the shots. You went down for drug trafficking, which you just said you didn’t want to do again. Now, unless you are hiding the fact that you are also a murderer or a thief, I’m hiring you.”

“I’m no thief or murderer.”

“Good. Why don’t you stick around after I close up and we’ll get your paperwork done.” Angela walked away without another word.

Tyrone sat there flabbergasted. He had only wanted to stop in to get a drink, clear his head and drown his sorrows. The last thing he had been expecting was to get a job. Angela had been so sure that hiring his was the right thing. Could he afford to turn her down? The answer was simple. No. He had no other options. It was either work for Angela or work for Mitch. Angela seemed like the safer bet.

He did exactly what she said. He stuck around, drinking water to clear his head, and waited. The bar shut down at two. They waited for everyone to make their way out. Angela locked up and only Tyrone and the one bouncer remained with her. She took some money and paid the bouncer, letting him head out and get home.

“Come with me,” Angela said walking to the office.

Tyrone followed her in and took a seat on the other side of her desk. She opened a drawer and removed an envelope. She pulled out several sheets of papers and handed them to him along with a pen.

“I’m going to go clean up. Fill these out.” Angela stood and left the office, pulling the door closed behind her.

Tyrone got to work filling out all of the employment papers. When he finished he stepped out of the office and found Angela wiping down tables.

“I can help, if you want,” he said.

“There’s another rag behind the bar,” Angela said not looking up.

Tyrone walked behind the bar and found the rag. He moved to one of the tables and began wiping it down. He watched Angela place the chairs on top of the tables and followed her example. When all of the tables were clean, Angela grabbed a broom and held it out to him.

“I’m going to clean the bar, you can sweep the floor.”

He took the broom from her as she stepped behind the bar and began cleaning glasses. They worked quietly to get the bar clean and when they were done, Angela pulled Tyrone back into her office.

She looked over the documents and filed them away. She then took him and showed him around. He learned where the drinks were stored and what was expected of him as bar-back.

When they were done with the tour, they both stepped out of the bar and Angela locked up.

“So, I see you back here tonight at seven. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t be.”

Angela nodded and turned to leave. She walked over to her car and climbed in, driving away. Tyrone walked to his own car and climbed in. He stole a look in his rear view mirror to be sure that what he had seen before climbing in was true. He saw Dave parked a bit back. He was still being followed. No doubt his father would know that he had remained in the bar for a extra two hours after it had closed.

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