MIRA"Go! I'll hold him off while you both escape." Julia whispers urgently.Vanessa pulls me in the direction of the back exit, but I dig my feet into the carpeted floors, refusing to leave just yet."Come on, Julia. Come with us." I say, trying to convince her with my eyes.She shakes her head and turns to Vanessa."Get her out of here.""On it. C'mon, chica."Vanessa pulls me, and this time, I do not resist. I look back at Julia until she's out of sight, trying to see if I can make her change her mind.The door rattles again, and panic shoots through my veins. Oh, God, I hope Julia will be okay.We go out through the back exit and run off in the opposite direction. I try to focus on the pounding of my feet against the hard asphalt, or on the beatings of my raging heart. Nothing works.Instead, all I see are images of Julia probably hurt by Hurricane and his men."Do you think she'll be okay?"Vanessa looks back at me, giving my fingers a reassuring squeeze."Who, Julia? She's a bad

ONE – MASONTwenty two years ago.Father is hitting mother again. I hide behind the sofa, my thin arms firmly wrapped around my shaky legs as the "whoosh!" of a belt swinging in the air, and the "slap!" of harsh leather landing against soft skin reaches me over and over again.Our mansion is huge, huge and cold. Everything seems cold. Even the cherry, blue coloured children's room where I slept until two weeks ago feels like depression and death.Mother's cries twist something inside me. I feel anger…muderous, helpless anger. Anger at her for always coming back even after he almost kills her, and at father for being such a harsh monster.When I can no longer stand her cries of pain, I place my hands against my ears. Not that it helps.The reason for today's beating is that mother found father with one of his numerous mistresses from the club, and she confronted him in their presence.Mother is an airhead sometimes. By now, she should know that father has an enormous ego. He does not t

MASONMusic blares in the VIP section of the Delegharo club as I silently watch the strippers twirl and gyrate wantonly on the poles. I press a single button on the wall beside me and the manager comes running."You called, sir. Do you need anything? More wine? Is everything to your taste?"I give him a silent, narrow eyed look, one that tells him that his consistent, lapdog attitude is fast constituting a nuisance.He lowers his head, taking a step back."My apologies, sir.""I need girls. Two of them."He looks at me once more, nodding eagerly." The usual."I nod and return to the open laptop in front of me. By "the usual", he means girls with jet black, waist length hair, slender limbs and forest green eyes. Girls who bear a similar physical appearance to my only obession, Mira Fernandez.It's been twelve months. Twelve fucking months since Mira ran from me. Twelve months since she disappeared into thin air.In those months, I have searched diligently for her. I mean, where haven

:MIRAIt is so hot out. I hustle from the parking lot to the store, not bothering to slow down and admire the scenery of my beautiful town like I always do. I finally arrive at the store and heave a sigh of relief. Wemp Creek, where Anna and I grew up, is a nice little town. The people welcomed us back with open arms. Some even brought food and came over to help clean out the ashes from the store. Other than that, they mind their business…mostly.I push open the store and I'm immediately welcomed by the scent of strawberries and peaches. It is a welcome change from the smell of smoke that lingered even after I had the whole place wiped down.I set out setting things in order, trying to maintain a happy mood, and keep my problems from slipping in. I think about everything else, from Anna, to Vanessa, to the slow but steady growth of the business. Nothing works, unfortunately.Within seconds, all my worries come creeping back. I drop the wash rag and go over to the counter. I lean in

MASON"Welcome aboard, sir. May I take your coat?"I look up at a smiling Marjorie, my chief air hostess, my eyes narrowing as they scan over her.Her pristine work shirt is two sizes too small, and the buttons are on the very verge of popping off and revealing her breasts to whomever might care to see.I nod once and she walks over, her hands lifting to touch me. I step back, and her face creases in confusion.Without a word, I shrug off my coat and hand it over to her, keeping my mouth firmly shut. I feel uptight…way too uptight. If I decide to speak, I might just end up lashing out at her.She takes the coat, batting her lashes at me,"Have your seat, sir, and please, do alert me if you need anything. Have a nice flight."" Thank you, Marjorie." I say coldly, making my way to my seat. The pilot's voice comes over the speakers and within minutes, we're off. Destination, Wemp Creek, Las Vegas.Marjorie tuts and prowls around, obviously looking for attention. When I do not pay her an