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A blog for poetry, prose, and pop culture.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Flash Fiction: Noir Story

Chapter 7

I followed Annie into the Lucky Lady and watched her head back to the dressing area through the revolving mirrored door. Tiny, the bouncer, was on duty and watched her walk all the way to the door before throwing me a dirty look. I gave him a smile out of the corner of my mouth and walked over to the bar and had one of the girls give me a bottle of beer. No hard stuff for a while, at least tonight, I had to start getting some pieces moving on this case. Tiny kept his eye on me as I nursed my domestic and leaned against the counter.

Tiny was big, bald, and black. He had arms like tree trunks and legs like stumps. He was all muscle, and that included his brain. He was the guy that could always out power his opponents, and the fact that I had once broke his nose pissed him off. I think he genuinely loved Annie, but that love was unrequited. Tensions were high between us, but I honestly think he was a little scared of me. He'd never lost a fight before me, and hadn't lost one since. Truth be told, I didn't want to push my luck in another fight, I'd outsmarted him with speed and quick thinking last time. The last few years hadn't exactly been kind to my body and I didn't know if I could do it again. Then again, I am to much of an asshole to apologize now.

I waited until Annie came out. It was weird watching Annie work. Part of me hated the fact that this is what she did, grind on Johns like this to make money. The other part of me loved her spirit though. She was tough and knew what she wanted. I know forbidding her would just make her do it more. I think, deep down, that I knew that at the end of the night, she would come home to me. Was it love, or was it because we didn't know how to love anyone else as much as we hated ourselves I don't know.

Annie was wearing black heels with soles at least a foot thick and long black fishnet stockings, the kind of netting that showed off the skin underneath. She wore black panties and a short black shirt that hung off her shoulders. It was cut just under her breasts and she wore long black matching fishnet stockings for her arms. You could see all of her tattoos, her quarter sleeves beneath the stockings on her arms and the one on her lower back that led into the trailing vertebrae, with the tips of the wings poking out over her shoulders. She looked dynamite. She gave me a kiss, a mixture of tongue and metal from her piercings that made my blood boil. I also knew it would make Tiny jealous as shit. She told me she was getting to work and I promised I would be by tonight to pick her back up. I drained the last of my beer and headed out into the night to catch a cab. The wind had picked up and I had an heiress to find.

End of Line.

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