Free

Previously in Chapter 1:

Derrick "Rick" Morrison (no relation to a previous character Jason Morrison from Deployment) was released early from prison after serving four of his six years. He found a wife who was ecstatic to see him, as well as a daughter who'd grown up in the time he'd been incarcerated.

Unfortunately, not all were overjoyed by his presence. His mother-in-law wasn't very fond of him, his criminal past, or the fact that he married her daughter. She didn't try to hide her distain for him or make life comfortable. She did, however, agree to allow him to stay in her house with his family for the remainder of his parole.

Rick was eager to put his past behind him. He appreciated the chance at a fresh start and wanted to do right for his wife and daughter. Unfortunately, the past isn't always dead and buried.

One of the main provisions of his parole was for him to avoid contact with his lifelong friend, Manchester "Manny" Childs. He and Manny ran a drug ring together, which was why Rick was in prison. Even though Manny was still living large in the streets, he was a friend that Rick was having second thoughts about severing ties with.

That is, until he found out the secret that everyone had been hiding from him. While he was locked up, Manny had been having sex with Traci. She stopped the affair when she found out that Rick was being released early, but the damage was done.

After a confrontation with his ex-best friend, Rick realized that he had to quell his anger. He couldn't afford to violate his parole and go back to prison. As much as his instincts were pushing for a fight, he had to relent.

Plus, his ex-best friend was ready to shoot him; if need be. He was a drug-dealer, after all.

Traci, knowing something was wrong, tried to get Rick to talk to her. But he couldn't. His anger was too unbridled; too volatile. So, he did the only thing he could do.

He ran away from her.

And now, Chapter Two...

*************************************************************

Night had fallen, and still there was no word from Rick.

Traci sat on the couch with her knees pulled into her chest. She absentmindedly watched Anya playing on the floor. Her mind was traveling at warp speed, zipping through different levels of guilt, fear, worry, anxiety, and stress.

Sitting next to her on the arm of the couch was a cell phone that refused to ring. For what seemed like the millionth time, she checked it to make sure that there were no missed calls from any unrecognizable numbers. None. The only person who'd been responding to her frantic texts was Manny.

Yes, she knew she shouldn't still be texting him, especially after today, but she had no choice. She had to find out exactly what Manny told Rick, and how much he knew about the two of them.

TRACI: WTF happened to not telling Rick?

MANNY: He already new. He asked me about it.

TRACI: He didn't no shit! U must have tipped him off!

MANNY: Don't blame me cuz u can't control ur man. That's on u.

TRACI: How much does he no?

MANNY: Enough. Said he'd kill me. Done with this drama. Lose my number and get ur man B4 I have 2 do something 2 him.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Traci thought as she looked at the time. It had been nearly four hours since Rick ran off. Traci went from being concerned, to extremely worried, to frantic.

Rick could take care of himself. She knew that. Yet and still, he'd been away for a long time. A lot had changed in the four years since he went away. He didn't even have a cell phone to call her if he did run into trouble.

Plus, he wasn't in his right mind when he ran off. Rick had a bit of a temper and often got into trouble because of it. Her mind's eye saw him decking the first person who looked at him wrong or having an encounter with a cop who was wondering what he was doing in the wrong part of town.

If his parole was in jeopardy because her, she would never forgive herself.

Please, please, please God, let him be okay.

There was movement outside on the porch. Her eyes shot to the front door as she perked up. When the doorknob started to rattle, her heart started to race. Unfortunately, when the door opened, it was her mother walking in from work, and not her husband.

Disappointed and crestfallen, she sunk back down into her seat.

Martha absently flipped through the mail that she retrieved from the mailbox on her way in. Bills, bills, bills; always bills. She let out a sigh.

"Hey Trace." she said when she saw her daughter on the couch. Her voice was drained as she dragged herself inside. Everything about her told a story of how hard her day was.

Seeing her Granny, Anya hopped up from the ground and ran over to her, letting out a happy squeal and an excited, "Granny!" She wrapped her tiny arms around one of Martha's legs.

Despite her exhaustion, Martha still perked up at the sight of her granddaughter. Dropping the pile of papers on the coffee table, she bent low to give Anya a proper greeting,

"Hey pretty girl!" Martha said in an excited, baby voice. "How's granny's favorite baby doing?"

"I'm hungry." Anya said with a big toothy smile.

Her forehead wrinkled with irritation and confusion. "Your mom hasn't fixed you anything to eat?"

Looking up at Traci, she was about to get started on a rant. But for the first time, she noticed that something was wrong with her daughter.

"Trace?" she asked, her voice lacing with concern as she placed Anya back down on the floor. Just then, a realization hit her. She looked around suspiciously and asked, "Where's Derrick?"

Traci's face started to crumble. With quivering lips and a shaky voice, she said, "I don't know."

That's when the dam broke. Sobs came from her; sobs that made her shoulders and chest shudder.

Angrily, Martha thought,

That fucking asshole. Not even a week, and he's already out and getting into trouble! I knew I shouldn't have let his ass in my house!

Aloud, she blew out a breath of frustration. As much as she wanted to get into it with Traci about her criminal of a husband, she had to start with feeding her granddaughter. So, she went into the kitchen, donned her apron, and opened up the refrigerator to see what she could whip up on short notice.

She'd deal with Derrick later.

***

Rick took a deep breath. His elbows were resting on the guard of the bridge as he leaned over, watching the traffic beneath him. The whooshing sounds of speeding cars, trucks, and big diesel engines mingled with breeze.

Ever since he was a kid, this spot fascinated him. The hustle and bustle of the traffic was sort of hypnotizing. No matter what was going on in his world, this spot reminded him that he was only one speck in a sea of billions. There was always someone, somewhere, going through a lot worse.

Each of the cars below held such specks. Each speck had their own unique story to tell. How many of them had cheating wives? Were cheating wives? Sold drugs? Did drugs?

Where were these people going? Where did they come from? What happed to put them in that car at that exact time?

It was mind-boggling. As odd as it sounds, it made him feel less alone.

His mind had been in a whirlwind since his conversation with his ex-friend. Anger and rage had given his legs false energy when he ran off from Traci. Adrenaline kept him running, even when his lungs felt they would explode. He felt like he had to keep moving, as if he could physically outrun the murderous desire that burned in his belly.

Eventually, he had to stop. Anger can only carry you but so far. His life was evidence of that. Sooner or later, one is forced to stop and look around at where your anger has brought you. Where you end up is usually the very place karma has been patiently awaiting you.

Luckily for Rick, he ended up here. Maybe his subconscious brought him here; the place of tranquility from his childhood.

Since then, his mind had roamed. Surprisingly, his thoughts didn't even involve Traci; at least not directly. He thought about life. His mom, who was taken away from him by a random act of gang violence, filled his head. She died when he was only 10. There was this song she used to sing to him when he was scared. It always made him feel better.

But he'd long ago forgotten the song. In fact, he barely remembered her face. At one time, that bothered him. He felt as though he was betraying her memory by forgetting her.

His father became a drunken waste of space after his mother died. He became consumed with rage. The police knew him by name because he spent so much time in the following months harassing them about finding the people responsible for the pain he woke up with every day.

The more the police failed him, the drunker he became. After years of broken promises and the impotent feeling of hopelessness, he just gave up.

Eventually, he followed his wife to the grave on the 5

th

anniversary of her death. The official police report says that he was driving drunk and fell asleep at the wheel, but Rick believed that his dad chose to die that night. His dad always drove drunk. There was no other way he could drive since he was never sober. He'd never had any problems behind the wheel before that night. Maybe it was just the odds catching up with him, but the timing of that coincidence suggested otherwise.

Accident or not, the result was the same. Rick was left all alone in this world to fend for himself.

So, he did what any youth does when family abandons him; he found another family. At that time, he and Manchester were young drug runners; the street thug variety. Street thugs are a dime a dozen. They are the pawns of any chess game. War on drugs really meant war on the petty crooks. No one really wanted to go after the big game unless there was a huge reward. It was too much work, too many man hours, and it only led to a sudden vacuum of power that needed to be filled. That vacuum soon became filled with blood, violence, and murder until a new king arose to take the throne.

Still, there were a few things that would prompt cops to do their jobs. Reelection time for public officials who wanted to make a statement, notoriety with the public when the reputation of the police force took a hit, and FBI investigation threatening to take over and steal the credit. These were the things that got cops out of the donut shops and onto the streets to land that big mouth bass.

Eventually, Manchester went from being a pawn to being the knight. He did things for his king that most people would find unthinkable. Unlike most people though, Manny enjoyed it. It brought him a sadistic satisfaction to rack up a body count that left people afraid to anger him.

Eventually, as is the cycle of any street king, he met with an untimely and violent death. War spilled out as an urban Game of Thrones was played. Gangs and cliques each fought for their stake of the crown.

The Sanchez family - better known as simply "The Columbians" - gladly let it play out to see who their new distributer would be. They were the ones bringing the drugs in; getting it through customs; bribing politicians. They were the invisible ghosts behind the scenes.

They didn't care who would emerge victorious, or how many people died in the process. They just planned on making the winner a very rich man, just as they had the one before.

Rick and Manny had to fight their way through many would-be kings. The fight itself changed them in fundamental ways; made them do monstrous things. But while Rick only did what he had to in order to survive bloodbath, Manny began to like the monster he'd become. It made him powerful; feared. His name on the streets became synonymous with the boogey man. To speak of it in less than respectful terms warranted a visit from him or Rick.

A visit from them made for a bad day for all involved.

Now, Manchester was the one in charge of distributing all the drugs onto the streets of five neighboring cities. Now, he was the big mouth bass.

He was the king.

Re-election time came for the mayor. You know what that means. He needed a big win. A big win needed a big name. The biggest name, without actually going after the Sanchez family, was Manchester Childs. After all, that was the real purpose of the king. He was the face; the one who took all the heat so the ghosts could stay free to haunt another dynasty.

Long live the king.

The DA and the police chief were tasked with getting Manny. And they went after him hard. Unfortunately, people fell into two camps. There were the ones who feared Manny and Rick more than they feared the police, and the people who didn't know enough to be useful.

So, they changed tactics. Instead of going after the king, just get his knight. If they could flip him, everything else would topple.

Only one problem: Manny's knight couldn't be flipped. And believe me, they threw every scare tactic at Rick they had. When that didn't work, they went after his biggest weakness; his family.

At the time, Rick had accumulated quite a bit of money. He'd always been good at cutting hair, so he ran the local barbershop. Naturally, it was a front for cleaning Manny's dirty money. At least a third of his fortune passed through there. Still, it was a legitimate business. He did have other barbers working for him with a steady customer base. He even cut hair himself; from time to time.

Success agreed with Rick. He was able to buy his wife the house in the suburbs that he'd always dreamed about. She had brand new car and a closet full of clothes. The two of them were even looking into private schools for Anya when she became of age.

Life was good. That is, until the DEA kicked his door in at 2 in the morning.

That was their angle. They were going to snatch that good life right from under his nose. They were going to take all his possessions and sell them to the highest bidder. His house, his cars; everything. Unless he gave them Manchester.

Rick didn't budge. He didn't flip. He took his chances in court.

His house was seized, his barber shop was closed and boarded up, his cars were sold. It all ended with him going to prison to wait out his court case, and his wife and new baby going to live with her mother.

It was a long battle. His family went through hell. The little respect his mother-in-law had for him quickly dwindled until it was dust beneath her feet.

But Traci remained loyal; at least he thought so. Most other women would have bolted to find the next big thing give them the life, but Traci didn't. She moved with her mother, enduring her disappointment. She got a job at the local Walmart amid the whispers of people talking behind her back.

The DA fought hard but overplayed his hand and lost big. He wanted to connect Rick to Manny's empire, to murder, to extortion; you name it. But the evidence only gave them possession with intent to sell, and a weapons charge. To make matters worse, he couldn't even get the weapons charge to stick. Had he done that; he would've gotten Rick for at least a decade. He may have had more bargaining power to put the pressure on then. But the six he was able to squeeze out wasn't enough to make him turn on his best friend.

Even when it got hard, Traci was still there. That's what was so hard to reconcile with. How could she be that loyal, but at the same time be this disloyal? How could the same lips that kissed him when he was finally released be the same lips that kissed Manny?

Or worse.

That first night he got home, Traci gave him the best blowjob of his life. Later that night, she fucked him with the vigor of a porn star. She got on top of him and rode him with the expertise of bull rider. When he was behind her fucking her doggystyle, she rolled her hips to match him thrust for thrust.

This was the type of loving that he'd been enjoying all week. Traci had always been a very sexy, sexual woman. She had the type of body that turned sundresses into reasons for a man to throw his life away. That mixed with the fact that she enjoyed sex and wasn't shy about it were a few of the things that attracted Rick in the first place.

Of course, it attracted Manny too in the beginning. But she made it clear that her eyes were set on Rick.

A friends-with-benefits type relationship may have been the beginning of TRICK (Traci and Rick), but their unbelievable connection began to spill over into areas of the heart. Despite Rick's "employment", he was surprisingly trustworthy and straight forward. He didn't insult her intelligence with paper thin lies about where his money came from. That was refreshing for Traci, though there's something to be said about the world when a drug-dealer becomes a token of honesty to measure all other men against. Winning her trust was a straight shot to winning her heart, and he did both in record time.

For him, one only had to look at Traci to see why he was with her. Make-up, no make-up, dress and heels, jeans and sneaks; it didn't matter. Any room Traci walked in was hers. Even now, the joke of her job is "when did Wal-Mart start hiring Instagram models?"

Still, it was what was inside of her chest that started to hook him. Her heart was soft to the point of being vulnerable. It made him want to guard it from anyone that would break such a delicate gem. She cried during movies, no matter what was happening. Sad scene with slow, stringy music; tears. Happy scene upbeat, victorious music; tears. Cute baby or adorable puppies; a long "awwwww" followed by tears.

She was always excited to see Rick. Her smile spread across her face, showing all her white teeth. When they walked, she grabbed the crook of his arm and pulled him close. When they sat next to each other, she either leaned into him or stretched her legs over his lap. And when she looked at him, her eyes danced.

The two of them could talk for hours before realizing that they hadn't done a damn thing all day.

That's why he didn't hesitate to propose to her when she handed him a positive pregnancy test. Her voice was shaking almost as much as her hands. When he kissed her on the forehead and said to her, "I've got you" she knew everything was going to be okay.

To be honest, he wasn't surprised she was pregnant. With the amount of unprotected sex, the only surprise was that it took so long for one of his sperm to finally make it.

But now, looking back with the gift of 20/20 hindsight, he was forced to re-examine his sex with his wife. Was she better now at giving blowjobs than she was before? Did she ride him more vigorously? Did she enjoy anal as much as she does now?

He honestly couldn't remember, but that didn't stop his mind from working on his insecurities. It became his enemy, bombarding him with visions of Traci and Manny. He saw her, on her knees in front of him, sucking his dick while looking up into his eyes. Manny stood over her, looking down at her with a proud smile on his face as he guided her.

The troubling conundrum was, how much of the skills she now possessed taught by him, and how much was already known? How far did their relationship extend? Did Martha know about it? Did she babysit Anya for Traci so that she could go fuck Manny? Did they go on dates, watch movies together, spend the night, play with Anya?

Exactly how much was he replaced?

All he wanted was to change his life; to do right in this world. But people like him didn't get many second chances. Mistakes of the past follow a man, cloaking him in the stench of failure. All he could do was keep showering. Hopefully, he'd eventually be able to live a clean life.

Night had fallen all around him. The air was chilly. Since he had no cell phone and payphones were on the verge of extinction, he had no choice but to take the long walk back home.