Page 1 of Dark Alleys

Chapter One

Monday, June 2nd.

Two weeks with any woman was a week and a half too long…Lukas Donovan.

Riverside District. Austin.

“You knew what I was the first time you straddled the bitch seat.”

“I didn’t plan on falling in love with you.” She swatted a couple of tears away.

“Don’t you fuckin’ cry over me. I warned you not to love me, girl. I got no time for baggage, and I made that clear.”

“That’s what I am to you? Baggage?”

I shrugged and didn’t answer.

Sitting slumped over on the side of the bed, I lit up a smoke and watched her get dressed.

“Why bother with underwear that’s hardly even there?”

“Shut up, Lukas.”

Give me a fuckin’ break.

She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder, “Guess this is it, then.”

“Guess so.”

The door slammed and I rolled over and went back to sleep.

Woke up starving two hours later, grabbed a quick shower to get the smell of Brandy off me—cheap perfume or some shit shampoo that smelled like dead flowers she used—nearly gagged me. Never bothered me much before but this morning I couldn’t fuckin’ take it.

I picked my keys up off the kitchen table and went out in search of food and coffee.

The apartment above my buddy’s garage was where I lived most of the time when I wasn’t pretending to live at my Aunt Gail’s house in Cherrywood. The Riverside neighborhood suited me better and it was handier for the work I did at night as Lukas Weaver.

Wasn’t a fake name. It was the name I was given by the couple who bought me a few days after I was born. As soon as I was big enough, I ran away from that shit show.

The cab of my truck smelled like Brandy too and it made my gut roil. As soon as I ate my drive-thru breakfast, I headed for the car wash.

With a singular purpose, I purged Brandy from my life. I cleaned the interior of my truck with Armor All and vacuumed the seats and the floor twice.

Two weeks with any woman was a week and a half too long.

Feeling better with the reek of her being gone, I headed to Cherrywood to have a coffee with my Aunt Gail. I needed to do laundry, and I’d run a load through while we drank coffee on the porch.

I’d make up lies about where I’d been.

Cherrywood. Austin.

My aunt lived in a more upscale and safer neighborhood than where I lived, and I wanted her to be safe. She was my mother’s sister, and I’d only met her less than a year ago.

I never knew my mother since I was the twin she chose to sell. Never bothered me until I found out about it, then it pissed me off every fuckin’ day since. My mother—turns out her name was Judy—chose to keep my twin brother Lincoln and I was the kid who got sold to pay the bills.

Huh. I guess somebody had to do it.

“Did you have breakfast, dear?” My aunt’s question brought me back to reality.

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