The Sins of the Father

A Taste of Forbidden Fruit

My toes peeped out of the mountain of bubbles from the bath I drew. I notice the chipping of the mauve toe nail polish on the big toe. The second nail, still retains color.

Coming home after talking to Morgan, felt like the weight of the world is on my shoulders.

A cloud of steam rises from the hot water as my body moves under its bubble depths.

All this time, Chief Rosin, was using me as a chess piece. He knew, knows what is going on. I wonder did Mr. Terran, have any clue that his long time golfing buddy, had a hand in the missing Sam and most likely knows her exact location?

I lay my head back against the back of the tub, the quick chill of the porcelain touching my skin causes me to jerk. Which in turn, make the purplish-red stripes around my neck throb. That bastard tried to kill me. I kept replaying the scene in the car where Mr.Hyde showed up and still couldn't believe it.

I didn't even know I bruised, until I stripped and a hint of red caught my peripheral. Drawing closer to the mirror I could make out the imprint of his fingers splayed in a never ending circle around my neck. I very lightly, grazed the area. Pain shoots up to my temple and back from the stinging.

My foot falling in the water, is what returned my mind to me sitting in the bathtub. Sloshing liquid cascaded over the edge of the black marble exterior. How in the hell was I supposed to solve this case? There is no way for me to confront the chief, without putting my career on the line. Chief is definitely one I learned not to cross earlier on. Illegal and legal retributions are usually endless. I learned this the first few years of working under him. His words of " Bad things happen to good people all the time Mahogany. That's why it doesn't pay to be one of the good people." The pit of my stomach always curled at the memory of those chilling words as he stood above the lifeless body. The boy couldn't of been no older than sixteen. His eyes . His cold lifeless eyes, stared into those of his murderer. My chief. Blood leaked from the pink fleshy bullet hole from the side of his head. Making a small pool that seeped into the whiteness of his shirt A hand grasped my shoulder as I was lead to chief's car.

Cold and stiff.

"W-we should c-call the ambulance s-sir." Maybe he is still alive. His cold lifeless body. So cold. So dead. His chest rose though. I'm sure I seen it. But that little. The still small whispers of reason, that continuously scraped the inside of my head. Enjoyed squelching all remaining hope.

No you didn't Torrey. You seen his eyes. Felt his pulse. A pulse that didn't beat against your gloved covered fingertips. You felt his vacancy coiling your stomach into near vomiting.

"What good will that do, huh? Someone will find the body tomorrow and call it in. We don't want to be anywhere around here when that happens. And Torrey?"

"Yes Chief.' My lips are numb as I force myself to answer. He is dead. We are leaving him in the cold.

"You are a good detective. Either way, would hate for that to end."

In short keep your mouth shut.

Sam has been missing for close to three weeks now. The only reason her case is still getting any attention is because, lets be honest, her status. She is after all an heiress to a multi~ million dollar oil corporation. Her family alone has that old type money. Money that reaches all the way back pass the Civil War, from what I was told.

A consistent throbbing morphs into a headache, due to the incident in the car. The pain blooms around my eyes and the back of my head. Closing the two orbs tightly, is the only way to relieve the pressure.

Waking up to an inhale of cold water wasn't the outcome I was looking for. I choke so hard I and cant seem to manage my oxygen intake. I turn and lean my body out of the tub to rest on its coolness. Finally, the fit of gagging ceases along with my sporadic breathing.

I reach for my towel seated on the nearby sink.It swooshes as it hits the ground. I reach to unplug the stopper and make my way out of the tub to dry off. My hair is still in its topknot bun. With wisps of it, unraveling around my edges.

I never could seem to tame all of my curls at once.

Finishing my toiletries I begin making my way to my bedroom. I make quick work of wrapping my body with the robe from the nearby chaise, in front of the grand father clock. Then securing it with a belt that I found in my closet

The tiny red light beside my house phone, catches my attention. Drawing near, I can see I have missed a call and there is now a message ready to be heard. Pressing play, I sit a top of my queen sized bed. Waiting...Looking over at the phone wondering if maybe I hadn't press the button hard enough. The robotic voice has yet to dismiss the message which means it is still playing.

My ears catch rustling, then creaking of some sort.

"Hello, Torrey."

It was Roderick. How the hell did he get my phone number?

"You're probably wondering how I came about getting your number. Just know, I have my secrets and you yours. Was just thinking about you and wanting you not to stress too much over the case."

Rustling of paper is heard being scrunched up.

"Sorry for my actions tonight, I didn't mean to give you a scare or inflict pain."

"Pft." Too late for that. My gun is now under the fluff of my pillow. Right beside my head.

"Do you ever, reminisce about our first time together?"

My heart stops beating for a second of eternity. I didn't want to remember. I fought so hard to keep that night under wraps. Here he is, with the flip of words, bringing the fortress I built to its knees.

I standup, with the mind of erasing the verbal memorandum. My index finger assumes the position.

"I did love you. Whether you believe it or not. I'm sorry. I was a boy who had never experienced the emotions we shared. You of all people can attest to my home life and how chaotic it was. For you to step in and give me something that you treasured, of your own free will, it pretty much f****d me up. It scared the living s**t out of me."

My finger remains in midair. Tears fall like raindrops from a quiet storm. The heart I managed to rip out, begins to o beat, although faint. He has to ruin everything. It took so long to not feel anymore. Twelve years. It takes him twelve years, to apologize. To unearth feelings, that of the present, I want nothing to do with.

My anger is in full of effect once his word trail down another humiliating path.

One that I regret ever partaking in. Losing my virginity to a bastard named Roderick Morgan.

"You know, I have replayed our first encounter on multiple occasions. You were so nervous and yet so eager to please me. Sitting on that bed. I used my finger to tear your hymen first. Your panties bloomed red. You nearly panicked."

I don't want to hear this. I don't want to hear this.

"I calmed you down with soft kisses. You returned them, reaching your hands around my neck when you became comfortable enough. I was nervous until you placed my hand over your breast, looked into my eyes and said you were ready to take it to the next level."

The humiliation of those words dripping from his mouth. My hands press against my ears to shut out his voice. They lower and wrap around my waist as I observe my feet carrying me to sit on the chaise. I listen because- A part of me wanted closure. Needed it. Wanted to know he at least felt something.

I had my answer now, so why don't I end the message?

"You were so soft and smelled like lemon and flowers. It was the second time I seen your hair curly. You looked beautiful. Entering you felt like heaven. You were so tight, I almost blacked out from it. Toffee legs wrapped around my waist as I sunk in deeper. Your cries of pleasure echoing in my head. You running and digging your nails in my back. Licking my neck driving my senses into overdrive. Pressing closer, then time stopping as you bowed your body into mine. You had tears in your eyes. They rolled down your cheek as you looked into mine. You've said my name before plenty of times. This, this was different. You said my name like it mattered, like I was the last meal you would ever enjoy. Like.... You loved me. That my dear is where I broke. Where my guilt took a hold and pitched me in a grave. The next day, I brought a pair of panties dipped in chicken blood to school, turned it over to Greg,captain of the football team and he gave me the money. I did not have intentions on our sexing going public. It did though, before I could explain you were already on the defensive end. Those panties belonged to your friend Amelia. She was all to eager to hand them over. Yours, I have kept in a metal can along with letters and your lip gloss. Cherry flavored. My favorite."

I found myself hovering again over where the voice proceeds from. He clears his throat and I press stop. Leaving it to linger between being deleted or saved,for later.

Why must everything be so complex?

A revving of a car caught my attention. I rushed to look out the window. The street light caught the horrendous outer shell. The blinker flashed for a left turn but switched it to right instead. I dismiss it as a friend of my neighbor. They always entertain late night visitors.

I am in desperate need of sleep. I crouch onto the bed and just lay there thinking. Before drifting off that mustang was a real an eyesore.