Monday Flash Fics #3: Roadside Assistance

Monday morning already? Maybe this will make it a little better! Here's the inspiration pic for this week's flash. The rules are to use the pic, and say it in 500 words or less. This week's tale is Roadside Assistance. You can find other stories here.

Roadside Assistance by Julie Lynn Hayes

“I said get in the fucking trunk!” Chip growled.

I shrank back against the car. The door handle jabbed my ass, painfully, and I winced. I hadn’t taken Chip seriously the first time he’d spoken the words. Now, I was starting to think he just might mean it.

“W-what the hell, dude, you need to chill out.” My words sounded braver than I felt, and stuttering wasn’t helping a damn thing. Chip was mad, and I knew it, but it was just so ridiculous. All because I’d happened to notice a stranger at the gas station. A cute guy in a white T-shirt and rumpled jeans. Probably a traveler, just like us.

So what?

So maybe Chip was just a tad on the sociopath side, and just maybe he intended to dump me somewhere on the side of the road. One thing I’d noticed, ever since we started driving through Florida, was the tons of water situated beside the highway. Lakes, ponds, swamps, even the ocean. A guy could go missing out here. Like permanently.

And suddenly I realized I didn’t know Chip very well at all. Guess that’ll teach me not to take up with the first good-looking guy who wants to take me for a drive.

“I’m not going to tell you again.” This time I saw the knife in his hand. The blade glinted wickedly in the bright sunlight.

I glanced desperately around me, but no one was there. We might as well have been standing in a ghost town. Even the cute stranger was nowhere to be seen. I gulped, forcing liquid into my too-dry mouth, looked between Chip and the open trunk, then crawled inside. He almost hit me when he slammed the lid, plunging me into darkness.

The ride was excruciating. It felt like he deliberately found every pothole and rut he could. All I could do was lie there, cramped and aching, waiting for him to stop… and then what?

I wondered if Chip had done this before. Did he have a usual spot where he took his victims? A dumping ground of sorts? He seemed the type that just might. In the short time I’d known him I’d noticed he was methodical that way. Not one for loose ends.

I was feeling more than a little claustrophobic by the time the car stopped, almost grateful for the lack of motion. I say almost because I knew what would come next. Wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. I braced myself for the worst.

When the lid lifted, I squinted up… into the handsome face of my partner.

“Comfy in there?” He grinned, deliberately flexing the muscles inside his form-fitting shirt.

I growled as he handed me out. I spied Chip, in cuffs, by a squad car.

“Took you long enough—“ His kiss stopped my rant.

“But I got here, and we just caught the Florida Mangler. You complaining?”

“Not I.” I sighed contentedly and snuggled against him.

Another good day’s work.

Monday Flash Fic #2: New Friend

It's Monday and I've written another Monday Flash Fic! This one is titled New Friend. Here is the inspiration pic. Enjoy!

New Friend  by Julie Lynn Hayes

“Please, Mother, please!’ Jemima coyly batted her long dark lashes, confident in her ability to get her own way. Puppy dog eyes and a slight pout added emphasis to the six-year-old’s fervent plea.

Mother cast a discerning glance toward the horizon. The sun had begun its nightly descent, striping the ocean in crimson and gold, bathing the beach in a gentle glow. “It’s getting late,” Mother gently fretted.

“I can still see the wooden posts,” the girl pointed out practically. Mother could not argue with such logic. She cast a quick glance toward Father. He slept soundly, his contented snores evidence of his satisfaction with this afternoon’s repast. She had not the heart to wake him. She could deal with the question herself; she generally did.

“Very well,” she acceded to the child’s request. “But only for a few minutes. When I call, you come to me, no argument. Understood?”

“Understood!” the child cried in delight, victory in her voice. She clapped her hands together, turned and ran a few steps, before pausing in her flight. Returning to her mother, she bestowed a sticky kiss upon her cheek, smiled, then raced off in the direction of her heart’s desire.

“Don’t forget to wash your feet before you come back!” Mother called after her, but the child was lost from view. She smiled in fond indulgence. Jemima was her only child. A long delivery and difficult birth, followed by unforeseen complications, precluded having other children. So Mother clung to the one precious babe she had, although she tried not to smother Jemima in the process.

She carefully folded the red and white checked gingham picnic blanket into a neat square and placed it inside the large woven basket which was now empty of food.  She’d brought a cobbler she’d made for the very first time. The recipe had come from her mother-in-law, and was one of Father’s favorites. Mother tried to please Father in every way she could, even if she felt she’d disappointed him in her inability to carry other children. Not that he ever complained. He was not the sort who would. But Mother felt the loss, keenly.

Lost in reverie over what could not be, she was startled to see the sun had sunk from sight. A chill breeze raised goose bumps along her bare arms. She frowned, knowing their return would be in the darkness. She needed to wake Father. But first, she would call Jemima in.

“Jemima!” She pitched her voice in no-nonsense tones to carry toward the sea.  What if the girl could not find her way? Her breath caught in her throat at the thought, but moments later, she saw Jemima’s slight figure and she sighed in relief.

However, she was not alone.  A man walked beside her.

“Meet my new friend, Mother!’ Jemima cried.

The man was tall and dark, with eyes like pools of clotted blood.

“Good evening.”  His long teeth tickled her throat just before she passed out.

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Monday Flash Fic #1: Derailed

Good morning and Happy Monday! My friend Denise pointed me in the direction of a Monday Flash Fic group on Facebook. The idea is to write a 500 word - no more - flash fic inspired by a picture which they posted. I thought I would give it a whirl, so here is my first fic. It's called Derailed, and it was inspired by this picture:

Derailed by Julie Lynn Hayes

Jarrod stared at his e-reader in disbelief. His words. Words he’d written.

But that wasn’t his name below the title.

Love’s Lost Fury was Jarrod’s book. His erotic romance story about two men deeply in love, and their complicated relationship.

So why was Edward Sharpe credited as the author?

Eddie. His ex-roommate and ex-lover.

Warm tears prickled Jarrod’s eyes. Tears of frustration. He clutched his hair and yanked on the strands,, seeking relief. It was either that or toss the e-reader toward the rails. Luckily, common sense prevailed over destruction of property.

His train had just chugged out of the station. Jarrod should have been on it. He’d  intended to visit his parents, spend some time with them. Instead, he sat alone on the platform, dying a little bit inside.

How had Eddie done this? More importantly, why?

Was he so bitter at their break-up? So jealous of Jarrod’s talent that he felt he had to steal it for his own?

And was he going to just sit there and let him get away with it?

Oh hell no.

Jarrod swiped at his eyes.  He set the e-reader on the cobbled ground and pulled out his phone. Opening his contacts, he thumbed down until he came to S. Sharpe, Eddie. Why he’d never removed the bastard’s number was a mystery to Jarrod. But today that was a good thing.

The idea of hearing Eddie’s voice sickened him, but Jarrod knew it had to be done. Eddie needed to know what to expect—nothing less than Jarrod’s fury, as well as the full weight of the legal system. They had laws against this sort of thing. Plagiarism. Piracy. Theft of intellectual property. He’d sue Eddie, and he’d sue his publisher. And anyone else he could think of.

He pressed the number and waited.

Eddie answered after only two rings. “J-Jarrod?” He sounded incredulous. Probably couldn’t believe that Jarrod had found out so quickly. And had the balls to call him.

“Yes, it’s me.” Jarrod barked.

“W-where are you?”

“At the train station. Why’d you do it? How could you take my book away from me? It’s all I had left.”

A long silence.

“Jarrod, please. Don’t do this. Please.” Eddie sounded sad. Almost contrite. But Jarrod wasn’t about to fall for that.

“Jarrod, don’t move, okay? It’ll be all right. I promise. I sent for help.”

Help? What?

Eddie released what sounded like a strangled sob. “They’ll be there soon. Oh God, Jarrod. I’m so-sorry. So sorry.”

Another voice broke in. A woman’s voice. Harsh and unyielding. “Jarrod Fox, you leave my Eddie alone. It’s not his fault he wrote a bestseller and you couldn’t. Not his fault they had to lock you up when you went nuts and stole his identity. You go back where you belong and just leave him alone.”

Click.

Jarrod dropped his phone at his feet. “I won’t go back!” he screamed.

He could hear the sirens, a low rising wail that drew steadily nearer.

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