Page 115 of Ewan

I had a son.

My son is now all grown up.

I don’t need a woman in my life.

With that being said, I can’t get this woman out of my head. I went back and forth with her, and now I’m seeing red, forced to face the unpleasant consequences of not finding the proper way to handle this when the time was right.

So how am I supposed to get angry with her now?

Who am I to tell her how to live her life or make her money?

Really, who am I in her life?

And if I want anything from her other than her body, how can I make her open to the idea of me? The real me?

The gangster?

The man who handles some of the nastiest situations in this world?

Grunting, I run my fingers through my hair and check the parking lot in the rearview mirror, fully knowing that I’ll end up going inside and bad things might happen.

I wouldn’t have had the slightest idea she’d dance in a bar tonight had I not tasked one of my men to surveil her house for me.

This morning I drove by her house like a pussy whipped sucker. And I haven’t even seen her pussy.

That says a lot.

Clearing my throat, I pivot in my seat and climb out.

The cold air hits me in the face with fists of icicles. I ignore the cold, a meek thought in my head imploring me to go back and talk to her in the morning like two adults.

Maybe apologize to her?

Come clean?

Yeah.

I know that’s not gonna happen.

If anyone touches that woman tonight while I snooze at home, trying to play cool, or if I smell someone’s cum on her tomorrow, not only will I burn this place down, but dead bodies will be all around.

So, yes. I better go inside.

And that’s exactly what I do.

25

SCARLETT

It works.

It’s sort of like an out-of-body and deep-in-my-head experience. The lights help a lot by blocking my view of the audience.

It’s not supposed to be like that. Typically, these places encourage you to interact with customers.

I’m not doing that.

I feel very confident that my private parts are not subtly visible, yet even so, I feel icky from all the stares glued to me.

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