Man on the Run by Carl Weber

Author:Carl Weber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction / African American / Contemporary Women, Fiction / African American / General, Fiction / Contemporary Women, Fiction / African American / Urban, Fiction / Urban
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2017-01-17T05:00:00+00:00

Kyle

29

So much for me and the boys enjoying my boat. I’d spent over five hundred dollars on food, and most of it ended up in the backseat of my car to become breakroom snacks for my office the next day. Not that the food was even remotely important compared to everything else. During the entire drive home, I couldn’t get those images of Stephanie out of my mind. Seeing her in such an intimate moment—or, more accurately, a pornographic moment—after watching her grow up felt like a violation, even though I hadn’t seen them by choice. I know she was nineteen, but as a father of two daughters and as her uncle, I didn’t want to see her as anything but a little girl. So I could imagine what Jay must have been going through. If that were my daughter, I would want to kill someone.

I had a feeling that things were about to go from bad to worse. Of course, this situation was complicated by the fact that Jay was still on the run and had to also focus on his own mess. We would all need to pull together to help Jay and Kenya figure this shit out. But for now, I needed to go in my house, shower, and pray to God those images washed down the drain as well.

I closed the front door and turned around, almost running right into Lisa, who stood with her arms crossed and her weight on one leg as she tapped the other foot impatiently. She looked like she’d been waiting there a long time to drill into me. She’d probably been rehearsing a speech all night.

She started with “You saw Jay tonight, didn’t you?”

I stood there for a moment as she glared at me, waiting on a response. I wasn’t trying to think of what to say, but what not to say. I hated straight-out lying to her, but lying by omission, now that was another story. But as I stared back at Lisa, I could tell she already knew the answer. She had this look in her eyes that dared me to lie—which made me wonder why the hell she even bothered asking the question in the first place.

Now on to my next question: How the fuck did she know?

“I knew it!” Lisa said. “The moment you sent me a text that you were having a drink with the guys, I knew something was up.” She waved an accusatory finger in my face. “Ordinarily you would have just called, but this time you sent a text.” She began walking back and forth, pacing like a younger version of Angela Lansbury from Murder, She Wrote. “You were afraid if you talked to me on the phone that I’d start asking questions.”

She’d hit the nail right on the head. I could hear her drilling me over the phone now.

“Look, babe,” I said, holding my hands up to try to relax her or to defend myself if she suddenly flew off the handle.

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