Tomas walked out of Sparky’s with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. Tasha’s one of a kind, a woman of unequalled beauty. From the restaurant window a brown bearded man watched Tomas leave, the mirrored shades covered his eyes, and he pulled out a blue PaperMate pencil and made a notation in his notebook.
Bray Farkin waited in his booth, as he nursed his only cup of coffee and watched Tasha work. He’d caught her looking his direction a few times, but it was a look of disapproval-not attraction-that she gave him. Her mouth tightened and her eyes scolded him even though no words were said. There was no need for words, Tasha’s face spoke volumes.
He watched as she made her way to him. Bray lifted the sunglasses with his right forefinger and met her gaze.
“So, you made a new friend, eh?”
“It’s none of your business, Bray. Stay out of my life.”
“You’re mine, Tasha. We, the collective group, may have lost you, but you’re still mine. Don’t forget it.”
“It’s time for you to go, Bray. Don’t come back.”
Bray let the sunglasses drop back onto the bridge of his nose, and then scooted out of the booth. “Don’t make me hurt you,” he whispered in Tasha’s ear. Then, he shouldered past Tasha and walked to the register.
“Have a nice day,” he said to the cashier. His voice carried a note of warmth, which wasn’t unlike Bray at all. He gave a wave to Tasha as he walked out of the restaurant. Tasha shivered and thought of Tomas.
Maybe Tomas can protect me. There has to be something that’ll make Bray pause.
Tasha finished her shift and stepped from the restaurant. A dark blue Chevy Tahoe sat across the street, two men sat in the cab, and they watched as Tasha started toward her 1985 Ford Mustang.
Her guardian angels were back, and it didn’t appear to Tasha that she’d ever escape the clutches of Bray and his friends. I may not escape, but it won’t be because I didn’t make an effort.
Freeman's Front Porch Musings 
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