Vein City. That wasn’t its true name, but that’s how he felt about it. From there the very lifeblood of the world seemed to flow. He flexed his hands and watched his own veins pulse. It had cost him nearly everything within him to get there…

[Please note the following story will be in present tense.]

But he won’t let fear dissuade him now. He’s come too far. He walks out of the Greyhound station and heads east, to the outskirts of the city, dodging moving bodies that seem to be drawn by an outside force.

It reminds him why he prefers the suburbs. Every metropolis is the same, but here someone can really disappear. It’s probably why they chose it.

But he was smart too. Hired a PI specifically skilled at finding people who want to erase their very existence.

He finds an out of service cab parked at the entrance of an alley way. He slips into the backseat, quiets the complaints of the driver with one hundred dollars folded inside a clip, and directs him to the address written on the map in his hand.

It’s a twenty minute drive. Giving him enough time to think. Practice what he will say when he sees her. Explain why he’ll give up the game. He just wants her, nothing else. All the money and chronic in the world won’t keep him away.

When the cab pulls up to the three-story brownstone, he gets out of the car, walks up the paved pathway, and knocks on the door, all while holding his breath. Her husband answered within seconds.


“You’re not wanted here,” he says.

“I think she would say differently.”

“You’re wrong.”

It’s possible. All of those things she said while he held her in his arms—lies, emotions, confessions she wished to take back? But he can’t let this man see his doubt, refuses to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’s won. He’s come all this way. No money left to go back. He can’t go back anyway. Dean and the boys will be after him.

“Do you really think she would leave the safety and stability of her home for a thug like you?”

The husband starts to close the door, but he blocks it with his foot, pushes his hand against the peep hole.

“Try to get rid of me all you want, but deep down inside, you’ll know that baby will never be yours.”

He catches a wince before the man finally slams the door, and he knows he’s gotten to him. Good. Plant the seed, give it life, a current to run through his veins, to prickle under his skin every time he lies down next to her, reaches toward her stomach to feel a kick.

He should know he’ll never stop fighting.


Written for Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt. The objective is to create a story in 20 minutes using the above line in bold.

Let me know I'm not talking to myself.

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