DYING TO SURVIVE (Dark Erotica) (2 page)

Childhood memories returned. Simple times provided simple pleasures and learned lessons. Pleasures now came with a greater degree of difficulty. With each day that passed, his pleasures became more difficult to obtain. The lessons he learned as a child, however, formed him into the man he was today.

The lessons.

The coffee Ryan’s mother prepared had not provided the same level of satisfaction as the coffee from a local shop. As he pulled into the parking lot of his favorite coffee house, he wavered between going inside and driving through the express drive-thru. The fact that he didn’t see Ami’s car in the employee portion of the parking lot caused him to second guess going inside. The length of the drive-thru line made his decision easy. Today, of all days, Ryan had a schedule he must adhere to.

Carefully, Ryan parked his car on the edge of the stall at the end of the lot. As he stepped out of the car and onto the parking lot, he turned and looked through the glass structure, and into the establishment. He smiled as he noticed Ami behind the counter.

Ami, a twenty-two year old employee of the coffee shop, waited behind the counter as Ryan approached. As she recognized him, she smiled a smile of satisfaction. She found Ryan to be intriguing – and although he was unaware, she was very attracted to him. The previous night, as she prepared her new hair color, she had thought of Ryan. As she had prepared to color her hair, she sat and wondered when she may see him next. Although she was in a relationship, she believed it to be close to ending, as she and her boyfriend had had begun to fight more and more.

“Good morning, Ryan. You look fabulous. The usual?” Ami smiled as he approached the counter.

“Good morning. Yes and thank you,” Ryan returned a smile as he reached into his pocket. 

“No, this one is on me. We took forever to get you out of here yesterday,” Ami waved her hands over the cash register as she spoke.

“No, I insist,” Ryan murmured as he reached into his pocket.

“Your money’s no good here,” Ami chuckled.

Somewhat embarrassed and frustrated, Ryan reached into his wallet to retrieve a tip. It was important to him that he provided the store
something
. He did not accept hand-outs, reserving them for those that needed them. He reached into his wallet and removed a ten dollar bill.

Ami looked at the floor and shifted her weight on her feet, trying not to stare.

Ami’s hair was a range of colors, her tips in contrast with the remaining portion. The two contrasting colors weren’t uncommon, and were always perfectly mismatched – her primary color always brunette. She was tall and thin, yet curvaceous. She had exceptionally large breasts for a thin girl, and was an avid runner. Her translucent blue eyes looked down at the floor as Ryan broke her attention.

“Thank you, Ami. Your hair – it’s the one thing that may be more beautiful than your eyes. You got it done last night, didn’t you?” Ryan asked as he forced the ten dollar bill into the glass tip jar that stood on the counter.

Ami smiled as she turned her head to the side, feeling a little embarrassed. As she began to turn her head to face him, she stopped, hoping that her new tattoo was exposed enough that he could notice it. She had recently had a star tattooed behind her left ear, and although Ryan was extremely perceptive, he had yet to notice.

“Is that a new tattoo?” Ryan asked quietly.

She smiled and moved her hair, “Shush. We’re supposed to keep them covered. Yes, I got it last weekend. My brother did it. He’s kind of a tattoo artist. It’s a star. To me, it’s the North Star. I hope it provides me direction.”

“And yes, I did my hair last night. Do you like it?” Ami asked as she handed him the cup of coffee.

Pleased at the amount of conversation and the above average time in preparing his drink, Ryan continued to admire Ami, “I do like it. It’s amazing you did it yourself. Multi-faceted you are; and I like the tattoo. Your brother? Interesting. I’m going to pry myself away from you and get to my office, Ami. Thank you for the coffee, your generosity doesn’t go unnoticed.”

“Well, my brother did tattoo’s until the 9-11 thing happened. He joined the military as soon as that happened, and now he’s a cop. He does tattoos at home sometimes, for family and friends. And, thank you sir,” Ami responded, tilting her head slightly.

Sir.
The recognition could be good or bad. Ami was sweet, regardless of her intended placement of the word
Sir.
As Ryan turned toward the door, he thought of the word and the meaning it may have to
her
. As Ryan carefully stepped toward the door, he wondered of his next victim’s schedule as he took a sip from the cup.

Perfect
.

Methodically, Ryan walked to his car, carefully taking another drink from the cup of coffee. A few inches of coffee removed from the full cup would ensure none would be spilled in his car during his morning trip.

To Ryan, not much was more satisfying than a flavorful cup of coffee. The caffeine soothed his mind, and allowed him to think clearly. He placed the coffee cup in the cup holder and started the car. A she began to back out of the parking stall, the vehicle’s warning buzzer chimed.

Frustrated, Ryan turned and looked at the dash. He noticed the low tire pressure warning light was illuminated. Discouraged that he may have a tire in need of repair, he opened the car door and immediately walked toward the right front tire. A mere week prior the same tire was low and required air to be added.

As Ryan noticed the screw in the tread of the tire, he placed his hands on his hips. This was a risk he could not take. The tire would have to be repaired before he drove to the suburbs. Being stranded – today – was not an option.

Not at all.

CHAPTER TWO

NEED A RIDE?

TWO.
“Honey, don’t forget your backpack,” The mother reminded her six year old daughter as she ran into the kitchen.

Having a child in kindergarten was both a blessing and disappointment to Meghan. Living with her daughter for the last six years - watching her grow, seeing her learn, and anticipating her going to school had been rewarding. As the day approached for her to begin school, she dreaded the thought of her daughter leaving. The girl attending school had left the mother feeling alone and uncertain of her future.

Amanda attended school for a half day, yet those days had been the longest half days of  Meghan’s life. The complications with the pregnancy would prevent her from ever giving birth again. Those complications, combined with a few other things, attributed to the early ending of her marriage to Mark. She and Amanda now lived comfortably, but alone, spending half of Mark’s inheritance.

“Honey, your shoes,” Meghan laughed as she noticed that the girls shoes were on the wrong feet.

Amanda looked down at the toes of her shoes and back up at her mother as if she had no idea of what was said.

“They’re on the wrong feet, sweetie,” Meghan said softly as she knelt down beside the young girl.

Amanda immediately sighed and dropped to the floor, grabbing her right shoe. Filled with frustration that she would disappoint her mother, she pulled the right shoe from her foot. As she did, her back pack fell to the floor.

“Sorry momma,” the little girl half whispered as she struggled with her shoe.

“No, sweetie, it’s okay. We can fix it, can’t we?” Meghan asked as she slipped her left shoe on the correct foot.

As the little girl pushed her shoe onto her foot, she looked up and nodded at her mother. Struggling with the weight of her back pack, the girl stood, stumbled, and began to regain her footing. As she began to walk toward the entrance of the garage, she thought of the school projects she intended to bring home to her mother.

“Sweetie, what’s in there?” Meghan chuckled as she motioned toward the back pack.

“Stuff,” Amanda responded as she stepped through the door and into the garage.

“We’ll look in there when you get home today and see if we can lighten that thing up. It looks heavy. Sound good?” Meghan asked as she opened the rear door of the SUV.

The mother watched as the little girl nodded her head and climbed into the SUV. The stubborn
I’ll do it myself
nature of children at this age was entertaining for the mother to witness. The mother turned away to keep from laughing as the daughter climbed up and over the seat, back pack in tow.

Looking at the reflection in the rearview mirror, Meghan admired her daughter’s image. The similarities between the two were striking. The daughter was certainly an extension of the mother, and reflected her genes. The mother smiled a smile of pride as she started the SUV.

“Momma?” Amanda asked as the vehicle began to back out of the garage.

“Yes, sweetie?” Meghan responded.

“Momma, why are butterflies so pretty, but crickets are so ugly?” the little girl asked.

The mother coughed a laugh, “Well honey, let’s see. God gives us all kinds of things on this earth, and some are beautiful and some aren’t. But everything has a purpose.”

“What about people, momma? Brandon is ugly, momma,” Amanda stated flatly as she looked out the window.

“Oh baby. People can’t help how they look. People are like butterflies and crickets, I suppose. Everyone has a place and a purpose. Everyone is beautiful in their own way,” Meghan looked in the rearview mirror for a response, pursing her lips to keep from smiling.

“Momma, Brandon is uggggleeeee,” Amanda turned and looked into the mirror, directly at her mother’s reflection.

“Honey, Brandon can’t help what he looks like. Do you understand? All people are beautiful in
some
way. I bet if you give Brandon a chance, you’ll see that he’s very nice,” Meghan stated as she turned the corner slowly and waited for her daughter to digest what had been said.

The little girl turned and stared out the window.

After a moment of silence, Meghan began to wonder the young girl’s thoughts. She didn’t like thinking of her hating anyone or not seeing the good that Brandon may have to offer. She broke the silence with the hope of persuasion.

“Sweetie, have you tried to talk to him?” Meghan asked softly.

Amanda turned from the window and looked into the mirror, “No, momma. He smells like peanut butter.”

Meghan laughed out loud. The thought of someone smelling like peanut butter caused her to smile. As she continued to drive, she imagined a man of peanut butter odor asking her on a date. Pulling into the school entrance, she decided she would go on the date as long as the man was a true gentleman.

A true gentlemen with good taste.

Meghan parked and exited her door. As she opened the rear door of the vehicle, she noticed the young girl pulling against the restraints in the seat.

“Sweetie, just a minute, I’ll unbuckle you. Are you anxious to get to school?” Meghan smiled.

Amanda nodded and grabbed her backpack as the mother unbuckled the car seat. As soon as the buckle was undone, Amanda began to slither between the door of the car and the mother’s leg.

“Hey, come here. Give me a kiss,” Meghan shouted as the young girl took off running toward the door.

As Amanda stood on her tip toes, the mother bent down to kiss her. “Your momma loves you, Amanda.”

“Love you,” Amanda smiled as she tugged on her overweight back pack.

“Remember, everyone and everything has a purpose, okay?” Meghan said as the daughter walked away.

Amanda nodded a sharp exaggerated nod.

“Get going,” Meghan laughed.

As Amanda turned and ran toward the school door, the mother wondered how she could ever go a day without seeing her. Next year would certainly be a challenge. Living in a small suburb had advantages, but nothing could shelter her from the fact that her only daughter was going to grow up.

Two more weeks of school, the summer, and Amanda would be gone. Meghan smiled as she watched Amanda pull the door open to walk into the school. As the young girl walked past the glass door, she turned and waved. That, standing alone, provided the mother all the reason in the world to smile.

And she did.

Meghan got into the car and slowly drove along the paved drive away from the school. Driving into the sun, she noticed what was left of the now forgotten winter on the front of the car. The filth of a few snowstorms from early March made a mess of the city, and of her once clean Mercedes SUV. Now well on its way to May, the threat of snow was over. Meghan was prideful of her Mercedes; and the winter’s grime made it look cheap and not unlike all of the other cars on the road.

Cleaning the car, relaxing with a cup of coffee, and an early lunch quickly became the plan to get the mother through the child’s school day.

The secluded car wash was a departure from her typical route, but the car wash was a self-service type. Something about washing the car was satisfying to her - a form of reassurance that she didn’t necessarily need a man in her life.

As she drove into the car wash, she was relieved that there were no lines. It should take her twenty minutes to wash the car, and then she could relax at the coffee shop for a good part of Amanda’s school day. As she parked the car in the stall she reached for her purse.

As she sat in the stall, a white BMW sedan watched from the road that accessed the car wash. Calmly, the driver tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. Somewhat impatient, the driver took a sip from his cup of coffee as the music continued to play.

As Meghan opened the door of her SUV and stepped into the wash bay, she thought of her daughter and smiled.