Saturday, March 19, 2016

The Fire In His Eyes |Original Short Story

By LaTease Rikard

He was the best. Courteous, handsome, kind, funny and unpredictable all in one. We met at the supermarket, me going out the door dropping a bag of fruit, him coming in the door seeing this beautiful woman in a vulnerable moment. Maybe the reason I dropped the fruit was to continue looking at the Adonis headed towards me. All eyes on him! In a moment of weakness he saw me. Saw me for who I was, an awkward, beautifully shy woman seeing her soul mate for the first time. At that moment time belonged to him. I just happened to be a part of it.

Daymon and I began dating. The dropping of the fruit, him saving my apples from tire wheel death was the beginning of a love affair not to be forgotten. Within weeks we were spending time eating ice cream, enjoying movies and of course more supermarket runs. He wasn’t pushy or demanding, just a man more comfortable in his maleness than I’d ever imagined. His chiseled jaw and well-structured body gave the false impression of demand. Instead he was more along the lines of a gentle lion willing to die for his woman lest she ever be disrespected. Since moving in together, he assumed the role of a man that takes care of his woman. Taking the helm with finances, going to work, paying the bills and allowing me to spend my money on what I needed and wanted long as he was included in that shopping adventure.

In a way I was a kept woman, and loving every minute of it. His caramel brown smooth skin couldn’t reveal his age even if you guessed today, tomorrow and next week. At 55 he had lived a drug free, alcohol free life. Preferring to eat healthy, exercise frequently, and enjoy the simple things life offered. But his hands were what kept me coming back for more. Daymon owned a construction company, and his strong, hard hands were what I waited on every night he came home. Walking in the door his eyes sought me out to kiss and wrap those rough hands and strong arms around my body. We kissed like we hadn’t seen each other in weeks. Daymon was all I’d been looking for in a man. He was the real deal.

One night after leaving the gym, I saw it. His representative was on break, and the real Daymon appeared. Subtle at first, but when the strange man walked up to him in passing appearing to whisper something in Daymon’s ear. Maybe I was imagining things; the man quickly walked past us and gave me a deadeye stare. A stare so intense my heart fluttered from fear. Who was he? What secret was Daymon hiding?

“Baby what was that about?” I asked.
Daymon turned to look at me more serious than he ever had and lied to my face.
“Nothing. I’ll take care of it,” Daymon said.
“If it’s nothing then why do you have to take care of it,” I asked innocently. That’s when the monster appeared. As if this fire-breathing dragon had been brought to life by the innocence of a question, for the first time I saw a side of Daymon I did not know.

In an anger filled voice with fire in his eyes Daymon said, “If it was any of your business you would know about it. But since you don’t know about it, then it must not be your business!”
Those words would have incinerated my eyebrows had it been fire. At that moment I felt worthless to him, just a woman seeking permission to be in his presence. Silently he drove us home, opting to leave me at home while he left to “go take care of some business.” Of course, that business didn’t involve me. And I didn’t dare ask where Daymon was going.

{END OF PART 1} ©2016 LMR Publishing All Rights Reserved