The Drazen World: Run (Kindle Worlds Novella)

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Flip City Media Inc.. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original The Drazen World remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Flip City Media Inc., or their affiliates or licensors.

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  RUN

  by Kristi Beckhart

  This is dedicated to single moms. You’re amazing.

  Prologue

  Yvonne

  After this ridiculously busy shift, my feet hurt from wearing five-inch heels, but my apron is heavy with tips that make this cocktail waitressing gig totally worth it. My mini skirt shows the nice tone of my legs, and my top plunges just low enough to reveal some cleavage and make me feel sexy, flirty, and fun. My long blond afro falls at my breasts, and if I flip it just right, my male customers look at me as if they could eat me up. Their generous tips reflect their appreciation, and I accept them graciously.

  I’m ready for this night to end, but I’ve got one more table. The bar is extremely loud, so I have to really lean down to take the gentleman’s order. He and his friend, both in their expensive suits with slicked back hair, already have cigars out, cutting and lighting them. Of course, he doesn’t look into my eyes but instead asks my chest if we have a certain single malt scotch. He smells as though he’s already had a few drinks, and his hand rubs my back as he waits for my answer.

  When I tell him that we do carry that particular brand, his meaty hand moves down my back as he slurs, “You know, if I could rearrange the alphabet, I would put U and I together.”

  I promptly remove his hand from my ass with a teasing laugh. “Aw, that’s funny, because N and O are already together.”

  Both of the men join me in a big, boisterous laugh as I leave the table. My customers might challenge me with smartass remarks and cheesy pickup lines, but I try to make my comebacks even smarter and well-played.

  As I deliver their drinks, he conveniently drops his lighter, so I bend down, lifting my ass a little higher than I need to and stretching my long legs, before I hand him his lighter. As he takes it, his fingers brush and linger on my hip, then sweep down the outside of my leg. I swat his hand away, but we exchange a glance as he folds a crisp fifty dollar bill into my palm.

  That I’m willing to play along with these games for this job seems preposterous, but it’s for the sole purpose of providing for my fourteen-month-old son. We moved here so I could attend UCLA in pursuit of my PhD. I’m studying to be a professor and this job is the perfect supplement to my small stipend, letting me pay the bills while I pursue my dream. Life here is so different from where I’m from in Minnesota, but I see great potential here for the both of us. It’s also the perfect place to hide from a past that I fear might catch up with me.

  Chapter 1

  The Hotel K rooftop bar where I work is kind of one of a million right now in LA, but it’s pretty cool and I’m lucky to have this job. The layout boasts a pool in the center with red chairs surrounding it, and a large cocktail area with tall tables off to the side. Around the perimeter of the roof are little tents with couches inside for a more private experience. The bar inside the building, which is made of mahogany wood and low lights, sets the mood for a more mellow crowd. This swanky hotel is quite the hotspot, providing the LA socialites a place to flash their latest outfit, the right shoes, and the right handbag. In another life, I might have spent my Friday nights here, but circumstances have changed. As a single parent, working here is as close as I can get to this scene.

  I pull my phone out of my apron and glance at the time. My replacement, Monica, is late again, but she should be here soon. I clean off one last table and head to the back hallway near the hotel employee locker room. I shove more tips into my apron and hear my manager, Freddie, chewing Monica out for being late. He has a disgusting way of behaving, accentuated by his comb-over, brown pinstripe suit, and the big mole on his cheek. He’s being his usual perverted self, looking down her shirt.

  She turns around and says, “Yvonne!”

  “Monica, girl! Where were you?”

  “I’m sorry. Thanks for covering my tables. Can I make it up to you?” Monica asks.

  “If I don’t get home in time, you can pay the sitter an extra hour,” I joke.

  She smiles. “No problem.”

  “Jonathan fucking Drazen is at your table.” I put my hand over my heart. “He’s hot and he’ll tip if he likes what he sees. So be nice.” I hand her the open tickets for my station.

  Damn lucky bitch. He is fine and one helluva tipper. He’s our boss’s boss, and sometimes he hangs out here when he’s in town. If she plays it right and makes nice with him, she’ll go home with a little bonus tonight.

  On my way home, I hook up the Bluetooth in my car to my phone so I can listen to my latest smut audiobook. With a baby at home, my job, and my studies at UCLA, driving is my only chance to stay caught up on reading. I love a good romance, but those books with BDSM are a little much for me. As a feminist, I can’t get behind the concept—all that dominant/submissive stuff is just another way to exploit women. But I like some steamy sex scenes in the books I read, and my current read is a second-chance romance about a paparazza and a movie star. It’s an addictive story. I could keep listening and devour it all in one sitting, but duty calls. My baby needs me.

  My tiny beige-clad apartment on the second floor of a campus apartment building is quiet and dark. The door creaks as I tiptoe inside and drop off my laptop bag. I forgot to leave a light on, so I have to turn on every single light and open every single door and closet before I can truly let my guard down and relax. You never know who could be lurking in the shadows, and based on the last two years of my life, I’m not willing to take a chance. After a complete inspection of my whole apartment, my heels come off and I bend into a few yoga poses to stretch my legs and feet. I need to unwind for a minute before I pick up my son from my next-door neighbor and bestie, Mia.

  When I knock, she opens the door to her airy, spacious corner apartment with sparkly LA lights shining in the windows all around. Always full of smiles, Mia, with her big blond curly hair and bright blue eyes, bounds into the hall and envelops me in a huge hug.

  “Hey, girl!” She clings to me, and I’m envious that she’s still so full of energy at this late hour.

  I hug her back. “Hey you.”

  Her hug is a comfort to me, since I rely so heavily on her right now. She was the first person I met when I moved here, and we became fast friends. A senior at UCLA, she offered to show me around and I gladly followed her like a puppy. When I was completely lost in this place so far from home, her easygoing personality was so comforting, and she continues to be my rock every day.

  I hand her a nice portion of my tips from my shift, and she leads me around the corner to her guest bedroom, where my little pumpkinhead is fast asleep in a pack-n-play. I inhale his own signature scent on his head, that smells like pancakes, as I pick him up to bring him back to our place. He’s limp in my arms, which happens rarely, and my heart swells as I hold his warm body close while I head toward the door. His adorable half grin reveals his happy dreams, and his hair is sticking straight up, damp with sweat where he was laying on his side. I can’t wait to snuggle with him in bed, but I take a minute to cherish this moment.

  Mia follows me, and I whisper, “It was a good shift. Thank you for watching him.”

  “My pleasure. He’s a sweet boy.”

 
“See you tomorrow. Come over for coffee if you want.” I pull her in for a hug.

  “You know it.” She smiles and closes the door behind me.

  Of course, Aaron woke up as I tried to lay him down in his bed, but after a diaper change and a few giggles and peek-a-boos, Aaron nurses himself to sleep. I head out to the kitchen, pour myself a glass of red, and pop open my laptop to check my email.

  Chapter 2

  Like every morning, there are Cheerios everywhere. In Aaron’s hair, his lap, on the floor, and even some in my hair. As he coos and buzzes his lips while drinking from his sippy cup, he gives me a big toothy grin. I haven’t even had any coffee yet, but I’ve already had to try to change a diaper, get us both dressed, and feed him without dropping everything. Thank goodness for programmable coffee makers. Every morning the struggle is real.

  I hear Mia let herself in, and she walks directly to Aaron with a huge smile, then plants a kiss on his head. He giggles while reaching for her and promptly gets applesauce on her face and her mass of curly hair. She spends a lot of time with us, so a little apple sauce in the hair doesn’t faze her in the slightest.

  “Hey, good morning,” I say as I hand her a towel.

  “Hey, Eve,” she greets me with my nickname as she plays peek-a-boo with Aaron.

  The coffee maker beeps that it has finished brewing, so I pour two steaming cups and hand her one. We discuss the upcoming week’s schedule and news from her love life, which is way more exciting and interesting than my non-existent one. Mia uses the towel to wipe the apple sauce from her hair and Aaron giggles, no doubt thinking she looks hilarious.

  Aaron screeches to get Mia’s attention.

  “Aww, you wanna play, Aaron? Peek-a-boo!”

  He lets out a belly laugh and moves the towel away.

  “Peek-a-boo!”

  Giggle.

  I could listen to them play for hours. Aaron and Mia play little games like that all the time. His “yuk-yuk” giggle is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard, and they make me smile whenever they play together.

  “Hey, I’m so sorry about being so late last night. My co-worker Monica was late again. I can pay you extra, but I forgot about it last night.”

  “No problem. I’m here, and I’m dedicated to helping you out. It’s working well for me. You don’t have to keep explaining yourself and apologizing. We’re good, so don’t you worry your pretty heart about it.”

  I shrug a little. “I know, but sometimes I feel like I’m doing all the taking and you’re doing all the giving.”

  “I’m gonna need you someday when I have little ones running around, and paybacks are a bitch.”

  I laugh. “You got it.”

  As I get up from the table, Aaron sweeps his hands over his highchair tray and sprays apple sauce all over the kitchen while saying, “AhDoneAhDoneAhDone!”

  “Anyway, I’m just glad I have a job. Monica was fired last night,” I say as I grab a washcloth from the sink.

  “No way! What happened?”

  “Yeah, she texted me last night. Freddie happened, that’s what. He is really something else.”

  After cleaning Aaron, the high chair, the floor, the wall, and the front of the refrigerator, I put him in the living room with his toys, one of only five rooms in my tiny apartment. They’re all lined up against the wall below the window shimmering in the morning light. The only other furniture I have in there is a couch and a TV stand. The living room is small and beige, but the kitchen was remodeled not long ago with brown and clay-colored granite countertops and a breakfast nook. It’s not what I’m used to, but it’s quaint and I’m thankful for a safe place for us to live.

  It makes me think of my parents’ house nestled in the Kenwood area of Minneapolis. The huge turn-of-the-century house had a ton of open space, and with all the nooks and crannies under the stairs to hide toys and little kid-sized closets to play hide-and-seek, it was a perfect playground for my brother and me. I have such great memories there, and I hope to be able to provide a place like that for my son someday.

  Aaron dives right into his toys.

  Squeak, squeak!

  Beep, beep!

  Rattle, rattle!

  He goes right for his favorites and quickly occupies himself with the dump truck and his favorite stuffed dinosaur, T-Rex. I’m amazed by how smart he is, but I also know from experience that I have exactly 1.3 minutes before he’ll call me in there to entertain him.

  “Yeah, Monica spilled some drinks, and Freddie was already all over her for being late, so he fired her,” I say when I finally sit back down at my small two-top table. My coffee is lukewarm, which is lucky—it’s usually cold by the time I get to it.

  “Seems a likely reason,” Mia says as she rolls her eyes behind her black, thick-framed glasses and laughs.

  “I know, right? She didn’t deserve it. I’m gonna miss working with her. We used to sing and laugh in the locker room between shifts when business was slow. Girl has some pipes. She’s gonna make it big someday.”

  “MAMAAAAA!”

  “Well, that was fun. Two sips of coffee should do it for the day, right?”

  We laugh as I jump up and head into the other room to rescue the toddler from his short attention span.

  “Text me when you’re done with classes today,” Mia says, then buzzes Aaron’s belly as a good-bye.

  “What are you up to today?” I ask.

  “More job searching. I just found out I won’t be able to graduate until fall semester next year.” She shrugs as she turns to stand in the doorway to the hall.

  “That means you’re staying here for another semester!”

  “Yup, you’re stuck with me.” She smiles. “Besides, I don’t ever wanna move out and leave you guys anyway, so it works out.”

  “Don’t even make me talk about that right now…I’m not crying, you are!”

  “I am not. You are!” She giggles. “Besides, I can’t possibly move away from you guys.” Her face drops from joy to glum. “Eve, you have helped me through so much. I don’t know if I can ever repay you for helping me through my breakup with Ben last year.”

  “Hey, no worries, girl. I got you, and you got me. We’ll get through this together.”

  “You know it.” She pulls me into a hug, then shuts the door behind her.

  Click.

  Every once in a while, I get an uneasy feeling when I hear a door click shut. It’s a trigger for the memories I’m trying to forget, but they rush back into my mind no matter how hard I try to block them. I hold my temples to stave off the feeling of panic as my heart races. I have to remember he isn’t here. He doesn’t know where I am. He hasn’t found me yet—but it’s only a matter of time. Deep breath.

  Focus, Eve. Stay focused.

  It’s time to head out for class anyway, so I shake my head to gather myself. I pack up Aaron’s diaper bag and my laptop, along with the gazillion books I need for research. Aaron spends the day at the daycare on campus that is provided as part of my scholarship. He loves it, and I get to pursue my hopes and dreams. With or without coffee.

  Chapter 3

  Los Angeles is filled with dreamers who think the impossible is possible, and I’m one of them. When I became pregnant with Aaron, my family warned me that I wouldn’t be able to pursue my graduate degree with a kid. They warned me that being a mother would bring my life to a halt and crush me. What crushed me was that I thought they knew me better.

  Growing up with a mentally ill brother and a psychiatrist for a father, I learned quickly how to cope with the complexities of life. Living my life around my brother’s unpredictable behavior and my father’s unpredictable schedule taught me to be easygoing and roll with the punches. There was no way I was giving up the complexity that was my baby. Instead, I insisted that I had a good support system of family and friends, so I could finish school and have a teaching career as planned.

  Little did I know that my family would turn on me. Little did I know that the events that unfolded
during my pregnancy and early motherhood would require so much courage and a gigantic move, uprooting me from my comfort zone.

  LA, with its hip culture, endless food trucks and taco stands, laid-back vibe, and three hundred fifty days of sunshine per year, provides me with a new energy to keep working hard every single day. Turns out I don’t need that support system after all. I can do this on my own.

  After a great conversation with my mentor at school, I’m ready, motivated, and even more energized for my thesis. Being black and a woman might be a double-edged sword, but I will look at my position as a professor as an opportunity to educate young women about feminism with a different perspective. I want to use feminism to impress upon them how all women are and to use that as a common thread. Race is important, but we need to identify commonalities and use them to our advantage. More separation only brings more inequality. It’s called black feminism, and it’s been around as long as the Civil Rights Movement. My girl Beyoncè’s got my back on this one.

  I pick up Aaron from the campus daycare and head home. As I turn down my street, I get the feeling that someone is following me. It’s probably just me being paranoid, but I drive right past my apartment building and watch to see if anyone follows. I end up driving around my neighborhood a few times, but once that feeling of being watched subsides a little, I park and scurry inside. I fumble with my keys while holding Aaron, and my throat is tight as I lean against my apartment door. I struggle to breathe in my state of panic. I hate when this happens. I get so worked up from thinking he has found us and is following us, but I can’t take any chances with our safety. I always have to watch my back.

  Aaron naps the afternoon away as I prepare outlines for some lectures I’ll be leading. I feel that eery sense that I’m being watched again, but I shake it off and get ready for work.

  When I drop Aaron at Mia’s place, I tickle him, giggle, and play a little with him while she makes me a cup of coffee. She’s such a good friend. Not just because she helps me out with Aaron, but because she always seems to know when I need a good cup of coffee. Guilt swells within me again over the disparity of our relationship, but I know she wouldn’t approve if I bring it up again, so I swallow it.