I.C.E. - Part 3

I pull into the driveway on the side of his sister’s house and park. It’s dark now. I turn the headliner light on in the car. I’m screaming inside but I hear myself say calmly,

“Listen Drake, you don’t look very well. Let’s postpone our dinner date for another time.”

It’s coming back to me now, those glassy eyes on people, on street people, deranged and wondering about. He’s on drugs. He’s tripping. Oh my God.

Drake glares at me and then looks out the car windows. “What’re you talkin’ ‘bout? I’m fine! Let’s go!”

He didn’t seem to be aware that his pants were unzipped and his penis exposed. I turn to face him. I hope that he doesn’t see the panic in my face, and then I say,

“No, Drake. You need to get out now.”

“No,” he insists. “Come on, let’s go. I’ve made reservations at the restaurant for us.” He continues rocking as he speaks; his voice is stern and determined.

To be continued ...
© 2007 by Miss Mary