The Jackson Jinx by Vincent Armstrong

Author:Vincent Armstrong
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Magic Rainbow
Published: 2022-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

FRANCES WAS SUDDENLY awakened by the sound of knocking at her front door. She rolled over as she tried to strain and see the alarm clock on her dresser through the pitch darkness in her bedroom. The alarm clock said 3 a.m. and Frances didn’t have a clue who could be knocking at her door at this hour of the night. She wondered if Ernestine, or maybe even Trinika whom she’d brought home from the restaurant the other night to stay with her, had left the house and was trying to get back in. Somehow, though, her intuition told her that it wasn’t. Something just wasn’t right, and Frances could feel it in her bones.

When the knocking continued to persist, Frances got up quickly from her bed as she threw on her robe. She flicked on the lamp on her dresser as she reached into her night stand and retrieved her revolver. In the twenty years since Frances had owned the gun, she’d probably held it maybe two or three times. Tonight, however, she gripped it firmly like a seasoned cop as she headed out of the bedroom.

The knocking only grew louder as she proceeded through the pitch-dark living room as she made her way slowly to the door. Her heart raced like mad and her mind rattled with fear, but Frances was ready to protect her home.

When the knocking continued to grow ever louder, Frances inched up against the door as she tried to look out the peep hole. The darkness outside only concealed who stood on the porch.

“Who’s out there?” Frances demanded as she continued to strain through the peep hole.

A long, ominous silence hovered in the air.

“Open up this damn door,” came a calm, but forceful voice.

“Who the hell are you?” Frances blasted.

“I want Trinika and I want her now,” came the forceful voice. “Now open up this damn door before I tear it down.”

Frances finally switched on the porch light and saw Daddy T., Trinika’s pimp, standing on her porch. Her fear quickly turned to absolute rage when she saw the villain who stood on her porch.

“What are you doing on my porch?” Frances seethed. “How did you get this address?”

“Open up the door, lady!” Daddy T. roared.

“If you don’t get your ass off my porch, I’m calling the police.” Frances steamed. “Now get off my porch!”

“I ain’t going nowhere till I see Trinika.” Daddy T. roared. “Now open up this damn door!”

Frances slowly opened the door as she leveled the revolver dead at Daddy T. as she stood behind the locked storm door. Daddy T. seemed unfazed as he stared at Frances with all the vengeance of a street thug willing to do what it took to reclaim what was his. His six-foot-five frame looked imposing as he stood on the porch, but Frances wasn’t about to retreat one inch.

“If you don’t get the hell off of my porch, you going to be frying in hell a whole lot quicker than you think. Now get off of my porch!” Frances yelled.

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