 MUD EYES CHAPTER THREE SCENE TWO BY BRIANA MORGAN The minute I see the car, my heart stops. I saw it earlier at the house, but it’s somehow different now. Changed. It doesn't look different, but it feels different. As we get closer, I’m struck by a sense of dread. Something’s off. I can’t explain it. Somehow I just know.
Julian must feel something, too. He stops short of the car and turns around. His face is tight. “This could be a trap.” “Yeah, I thought about that.” Rory was murdered and the police haven't caught the killer. What if he wants to silence me next? “I’ll go first,” Julian says. “That way, if something happens…” He lets his voice trail off. Neither of us wants to talk about death. By the time we get around to the side of the car, we realize that the driver’s side door is wide open. There’s no one sitting behind the wheel. The keys dangle from the ignition. A faint beeping echoes into the parking lot, reminding the driver what he left behind. “I don’t understand it,” Julian says. His face is creased in fear and frustration. “Someone had to drive it here. Where did they go?” I scan the parking lot for clues. There aren't many other cars around and certainly no people. Where could the driver be? Then, I hear a door slam. Mine and Julian’s heads snap up in the direction of the noise. Someone walked out of the front office. The man is tall, dark-skinned, and radiating charm. I take a step back. I know nothing about him. The way he eyes my brother’s truck makes my skin crawl. Julian’s shoulders slump. He smiles. “Malcolm. What are you doing here?” The man keeps his eyes on me. “This is her then? Damita?” “How did you get my brother’s keys? They were in his bedroom.” My stomach ties itself in knots. I step closer to Julian. Even though he seems to know this man, I have no idea how. My brother knew him, too. So why haven’t we been introduced yet? “He told me where they were. Is there somewhere we can talk?” “Neither of you should probably be seen with me,” says Julian. “I’ll go back upstairs first. We can reconvene in my room.” I remember Atalanta and wonder if she’ll be there, too. I’m still not sure how I feel about her. Julian trusts her, at least on some level, but he expressed concerns for my safety with her around. What does it all mean? “The officer who dropped me off yesterday said he was coming back,” I say. “They want me to answer a few more questions.” “Your brother was my friend,” Malcolm says. “I've heard a lot about you.” I’m sensing a pattern in my brother’s circle of so-called friends. Malcolm digs the toe of his shoe in a crack in the asphalt. “I’d really rather you and I have this conversation in private.” I want the opposite. “I’m not comfortable being alone with you. Julian,” I say, “can you come to my room with him?” Julian nods. “Of course. I’ll be upstairs in my room. Knock when you get up there.” With my eyes, I implore him to stay. With his eyes, he dismisses me. As a long time fan of Colbert, I can say this episode was a pleasant surprise. It was actually kinda funny. A sitting president doing 'The Word' or rather 'The Decree'  Protesters shut down a major highway in Berkeley.   MUD EYES CHAPTER TWO SCENE FIVE BY BRIANA MORGAN I crack the door open. “What do you want?” “Nice to see you, too,” he says. “I didn't wake you, did I?” I wonder why he cares. “What’s going on?” He looks through the crack in the door, bracing a hand against the door frame. “Would you mind if I came in?” He lowers his voice. “It’s urgent.” “If it’s so urgent, you better just come out and say it,” I say. I’m still not sure I can trust him. How do I know that this isn’t a trap? He sighs. “Damita, please. I've been nothing but cordial thus far but unless you let me in, I’m afraid I’ll have to get a tad more assertive.” He pushes against the door until it opens. I don’t push back. There’s no use. Now that I think about it, he probably doesn't mean me any harm. If he wanted to hurt me, he would've done it already. I decide to trust him until he gives me a clear reason not to. For now, he’s one of my only ties to Rory. He might be able to shed some light on my brother’s murder. Julian seems taller as he brushes against me. I haven’t been quite so close to him before. He smells nice, like mint. Rory had always smelled like cinnamon. I feel a twinge of grief. I choke it back before it has time to take root. After I close the door, Julian sits down on the edge of the bed. “I hope I didn't scare you too much yesterday. What I said about Atalanta… well, I was wrong.” He rubs the back of his neck. “You’re not in any danger where she is concerned.” I want to ask him why he was so insistent before. I put my hands on my hips. “Am I in danger otherwise?” Julian pauses. “We think you will be.” “If I don’t get your help, you mean?” “No,” he says, “it’s not like that.” Julian stands again and goes into the bathroom. He turns on the tap, gathers water in his hands, and splashes it on his face. Odd. I hand him the towel wadded up on the floor. “What are you saying?” I ask. “Be specific.” He waits a long time before answering me. “I’m afraid we dragged you into something terrible. We were reckless.” I wait for him to continue. He dries his face, goes to throw the towel back on the floor, and decides to fold it neatly instead. “I promised Rory you wouldn't get hurt. He made me swear that if anything ever happened to him, I wouldn't try to contact you.” “You didn't,” I reply. “It happened by accident.” Even as I say the words, I doubt the truth behind them. It’s all too convenient--what are the odds of me getting dropped off at the very motel in which Julian and Atalanta are staying? The universe is seldom slapdash. Something big is brewing. FOLLOW THIS SERIAL AT BRIANA'S SITE
The *NEW* Portrait by Marielle van Broekhoven - Check out her art for sale on her site HERE!  Check out the YouTube video about her process!   MUD EYES CHAPTER TWO SCENE THREE BY BRIANA MORGAN Atalanta comes out of the bathroom. She rubs her eyes. “She figured it out, didn't she? What are we supposed to do?” "We don't have to do anything rash," Julian says. His voice is calm but I sense a touch of malice in it. My pulse spikes. What are they going to do? "She's dangerous," Atalanta says. "If she tells anyone--" "She won't tell anyone. Look at her. She's a mud eyes. Who would believe her?" Normally I’d be offended, but I know he’s trying to help. "I don't know, Julian. I think it's risky." Julian nods to me. "Would you mind stepping into the bathroom? Atalanta and I have some things to discuss." I don't dare disobey. I doubt Julian would press charges if I did but I don't want to take the chance. I slip into the bathroom, shut the door, and flip on the fan. The lid on the toilet is down. I sit on it and bury my face in my hands. What’s happening to me? I hear them talking. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but I hear their voices. For all I know, they’re plotting my murder. But if they’d truly been close to my brother, surely they won’t kill me, will they? I don’t know anything about them. I think about throwing open the bathroom door, pushing past them, opening the front door, and running away as fast as I can. What if I can’t get past them? What if they pursue me? If I do get away from them, where will I go? Home isn't home anymore. I’m out of options. I stand and knock on the door. The talking stops. I knock again. Julian opens the door and peers in at me. His eyes shift around the room as though looking for something to cling to. They find me instead. “Atalanta’s going out,” he says. “You should be gone before she comes back.” At first, I don’t understand. Julian lowers his voice. “Please. I’m trying to help you.” “She won’t hurt me,” I say. It comes out like a question. “Tell me she won’t hurt me.” “Please go,” he replies. I hear the front door open and close. Atalanta has gone out. I want to get as far away from this hotel room as possible. Whatever these two are involved in--even if they’d known my brother--I don’t want to have anything to do with it. Treason is insanity. I’m only half-crazy. What is it that’s keeping me standing in the bathroom? “I want answers,” I say. “All you've done is confuse me. I have so many questions.” “I know,” he says, “I’m sorry. I didn't want--” He cuts himself off. “Please get out of here, Damita. Go to your room and lock the door. Pretend this nonsense never happened.” He has no idea how much I wish that’s possible. “My brother was murdered. That wasn't pretend. You can’t understand how bad it hurts.” Something flashes in his eyes. “You have no idea.” FOLLOW THIS SERIAL AT HER BLOG
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