Clarissa backed out of the driveway in her beat up red car with a few too many dents and a bad paint job, looking as stunning as ever. She was a striking contrast to the Hooptie car she bought after months of saving up working at bargain mart across the way from her home on Bedlow, a street in north Stockton nefarious for gang related activity. She grew up poor and without handouts, having to work tirelessly and punch a time clock to eat and have clothes for school.

As Clarissa drove out of her run down neighborhood, she glanced to her left and noticed a skinny, balding man covered in scabs. He stood in between a towering evergreen tree and a beat up mailbox. Some of the letterboxes had been left open, clearly broken into.

This is so ghetto. I can’t wait to get out of this shit hole town.”

As she stopped at the stop light tainted with graffiti, she stared at the questionable looking man as he lifted a crack pipe to his chapped mouth and inhaled. He exhaled slowly after a few seconds and smiled at her deviantly.

“Fucking lovely” she muttered, and sped off.

Within a few minutes Clarissa arrived at the smoke shop and opened her car door. She stepped outside into the brisk October air. She noticed a black Mercedes’ pull up right next to her and park. The driver was a strikingly handsome young man, about her age maybe a few years older. She tried not to stare at him, but noticed how lovely the dark ringlets of his curls framed his sculpted face. He craned his tattoo covered neck towards her slowly, noticing her not-so discreetly eye raping him. Clarissa quickly snapped her head back into place, a flattering pink blush creeping up her pale cheeks.

“How embarassing!”

She quickly snapped her focus forward, brushing off her pants. Reaching down into her green and burgundy Gucci purse she huffed, stifling around until she found her keys and locked the car; it wasn’t the best area and car robberies or “bippin” as her cousin called it happened too frequently for her to risk the loss of her crappy car. Reiterating what just happened in her head she sauntered towards the smoke shop with confidence, deciding not to let any embarrassment hinder her bad bitch energy. Her hips swayed seductively, covered in Juicy Couture yoga pants and her petite waist covered in beads. Approaching the open door covered in flashing lights and tacky stickers, she rolled her eyes and turned around quickly, seeing the sexy stranger staring at her round bum. Now it was her turn to smirk.

“That’ll be 30.99 sweetie,” the unpleasant man said, staring at Clarissa’s perky c cup breast’s threatening to spill out of her tight sports bra and tank top. She shuddered and pulled out her card, hearing the ring of a bell, meaning another customer was entering the establishment. Butterflies built up timidly in her stomach, threatening to surface. She swiped her card quickly and heard heavy footsteps approaching behind her.

“The card declined, but if you follow me to the back for a few minutes for some fun I’ll cover the cost for you, no problem.” The Arabian man grinned, showing his black teeth.

The mystery stranger stepped out from behind her and slapped his hands on the counter. She studied them, noticing the scars likely acquired from numerous fist fights.

“Aye man don’t talk to the lady like that, you hear? And for the cost of her items just take it off what you owe me for the white girl, dope fiend. You’re lucky me and my boys don’t come down here and light this whole bitch up. And get me a pack of backwoods, too. The honey bourbon five pack. The fuck are you looking at? Grab them off the shelf.”

She stared at him in awe. Who was he?

As they stood outside of his flashy car, for the first time in her life, Clarissa found herself dumbstruck.

“I’m Damon, what’s your name ma?” She gulped.

“It’s clarissa, and thank you for that back there. He was a fucking creep.

“No problem love, maybe if you’re up to it you can make it up to me by coming to dinner with me tonight.” Not usually shy but taken aback by Damon’s behavior, her head tilted down modestly.

“I work tonight… but if you’re not busy tomorrow.”

He reached out toward her and tilted her head up, forcing her eyes to meet his. They were a warm honey brown color, with swirls of a lighter color in the center, like Werther’s caramel candies. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“I’ll pick you up at 8.” They exchanged numbers.

A few months later and a day hadn’t past without Clarissa and Damon speaking on the phone or seeing each other. Their new relationship got serious pretty quickly, he had already met her parents. Oddly enough she had yet to meet his, or even hear much about them for that matter. The last school bell rang and Clarissa got her usual text from Damon saying he was outside to pick her up, but this time he included that he needed to talk to her about something serious. She wasn’t sure whether to be frightened or intrigued.

When Clarissa opened the car door to step inside, Damon had an extremely solemn expression. That couldn’t be good.

“Get in. We’re going for a drive.”

They drove in silence for quite a while, no music or talk radio to kill her growing anxiety and anticipation.

“Clarissa, do you trust me?” He asked finally.

“Without a doubt, I trust you more than anyone else in this world.”

“Good. Well I hope this doesn’t change that.”

She stared at him and he kept his gaze on the long highway ahead of him.

“My family is in the cartel. A job went bad, and one of my brothers had to kill our cousin. Our own fucking cousin, over drug money. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you any sooner, but I didn’t want you to look at me any different.”

She started at him, still.

“I want out,” he continued

“I want out of the game and I want out of this shithole town. I have a change of identity and one for you, a Remington, a couple glocks, and about fifty bands. I’m going to Costa Rica and I need you to come with me, in case the cartel comes after you.”

Damon abruptly pulled over and stopped the car. He reached into the back seat pulling out an abnormally large leather briefcase. He entered the code and opened it, revealing everything he just described inside, along with a brick of cocaine and a shit-ton of weed.

She took it all in for a long while, maybe a few minutes, and took a deep breath. So many thoughts came to her at once.

“What do I tell my parents? That I’m doing a foreign exchange program? Will we come back? Will I ever see my family again? And why the fuck do you have all that blow and those guns?” She paused, and he looked at her in anguish.

“I love you but your powers are too strong… they scare me.”

He grimaced, and she considered what he asked of her. She loved him, with everything she had in her. No man had ever treated her as well as he did, and he was trying to protect her. If one thing was for certain about her, it was that she was a real ride or die bitch for the ones she loved.

“Oh, fuck it. I’m in.”

to be continued…