Luca couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She took a seat on their couch, feeling her chest tightening and her breath shortening.

  “Luca, are you okay?” Mrs. Shoals asked.

  “Get the girl some water.”

  Mrs. Shoals hurried into the kitchen to fetch Luca some water to drink. Her husband stayed with Luca in the living room. She came back into the room and handed Luca a full glass of cold water.

  Luca took it and drank half the glass. She had to somehow get around the unpleasant emotion of losing everything. The way Mr. and Mrs. Shoals looked at her, with deep sorrow, she knew there was more to tell.

  “For a minute, everyone thought you were inside,” Mrs. Shoals said. “They say it was arson.”

  “Arson?” Luca repeated.

  “The fire department ruled it an arson. They went through the entire structure, picking around everything, thinking you were dead inside, but everyone was relieved to know you weren’t inside the place.” Mr. Shoals added, “The county had a bulldozer come through and knock it completely down, and they cleared away every bit of debris because it was an eyesore.”

  “I’m shocked you hadn’t heard, Luca. The fire was on the news, and people tried reaching you.”

  Luca couldn’t tell them that she had nearly a hundred voice messages that she chose to ignore because her ex-drug dealing boyfriend was nearly murdered by her other drug dealing jump-off.

  “My grandmother is really sick, so I was staying with her.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear about that,” Mrs. Shoals said.

  Everything was too much to take in all at once. She tried to breathe. She tried to think.

  “Do you have some place to go?” Mr. Shoals asked.

  Luca nodded her head. “I do.”

  “Well, if you need to, you can stay here for the night,” Mrs. Shoals said to her. “I’m truly sorry about everything. You’re a sweet young girl, and things will pick up.”

  What the fuck this bitch know about me? Luca thought to herself. When she had moved in, they didn’t come over with baskets of food and smiles to welcome her to the neighborhood. They didn’t converse with her when their paths crossed coming and going. She only knew their last name because one day the mailman accidentally delivered their mail to her place and she saw the name Shoal on the envelope.

  The Shoals were a proud white couple. Luca knew when they saw a young black girl moving in next door to them, they probably said, “There goes the neighborhood.”

  The offer to spend the night was tempting, but Luca had to decline. It was funny. First they didn’t want to answer their door and deal with her, but now they were opening their home to her. Why? Because of pity. To help a black girl out and soothe their guilt.

  When the incident had happened with Charter, where she nearly lost her life, the neighbors talked about her like a dog, and not one ever came by after she was out of the hospital to check on her, though they knew she lived alone. Rockaway Park was a racist area. Luca didn’t feel comfortable being anywhere near her burnt-down home.

  She guzzled the last of the water in the glass and handed it back to Mrs. Shoals. She had a funny feeling about something. Her gut instincts told her there was more to be told and maybe they were withholding something else from her. When Mrs. Shoals gave her husband that particular look, like whether they should tell her or not, Luca knew she was right. She stood up. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  Mrs. Shoals replied, “It’s not our business to tell.”

  “Like hell it ain’t,” Luca barked out. “My house is burnt down to the ground because of arson and y’all wanna hold shit back?”

  Mrs. Shoals glanced at her husband, who in return said, “Might as well go on and tell her everything.”

  “The people you rent the house from, they’re being investigated for the arson,” Mrs. Shoals informed her.

  “What?” Luca was puzzled.

  She rented the house from two Jewish brothers. She didn’t want any red flags by paying for the house in cash, so she went through a middleman. The Kabakoff brothers seemed legit in Luca’s eyes. She did a background check, as they did one on her too, and the paperwork was legit. So what did she miss? It appeared the Kabakoff brothers, the owners of the home, were in some kind of financial trouble. Hence the reason they’d moved out of their home and into an apartment and Luca was covering the mortgage.

  Luca knew she couldn’t trust them. In her eyes, they were always sneaky. They burned the house down probably to collect insurance money. She was relieved, though, that she wasn’t going to be investigated for something she didn’t do. She already had enough on her plate and didn’t need any more run-ins with the law. She still had a bad taste in her mouth from dealing with the Rockaway Park PD over Charter’s death.

  Luca had heard enough. “I need to go,” she said to the couple.

  She walked out of their home without even saying a simple “Thank you.” She was pissed off. It felt like she was about to collapse in their living room and needed to get away. It was always one thing after another.

  When she stepped outside into the cool air night, she hollered at herself, What I’m gonna do now? Her money and drugs were burned to the ground. She wanted to kick herself for being so stupid to think it was safe again to hide her stash in the house. Never in her wildest imagination did she think the house would catch on fire and burn completely down to the ground. Her landlords had no idea that their evil scheme was going to cost them their lives. They’d fucked with the wrong bitch.

  She took one long look at the empty lot where her home used to be and knew it was time to move on. There was nothing there for her anymore.

  She dried her tears and climbed into her Subaru Outback. She lit a cigarette, took a few pulls while lingering behind in the driver’s seat, and decided to drive farther north. She needed to recoup and try and come back stronger.

  She came up with the craziest thing to do. It was going to be a long drive where she planned on heading, but she felt it was the right thing to do. She needed to see the man she’d heard about all her life but had never known.

  ***

  The drive to Dannemora, New York was an exhausting one. It took Luca six hours to arrive in the small town, and when she finally did, dawn was breaking. She needed to rest. She checked into a roadside motel with its neon sign, cement floors, Ikea furniture, and prevailing minimalist vibe. She got a room on a shoestring budget and crashed the minute she stepped foot inside.

  She slept almost all day, so when she finally awoke, it was almost evening again.

  Luca changed clothes and decided she would visit her father the following day. Until then, she would make the best of her stay in the primitive-looking town. She was starving and needed a drink or two to pass the time away.

  Stepping out of the motel, Luca felt like she was in the middle of nowhere. It was cold, and snow was everywhere. Dannemora was nestled among the Adirondack Mountains. The closest city was Plattsburgh. It was only considered a city because it had a Super Walmart. Dannemora was home to Clinton Correctional Facility, the largest state prison in New York. Most people who lived in the town either worked at the prison, lived inside the prison, or had family who lived inside the prison. The residents considered their town a great place to live with a small population, providing a safe and friendly atmosphere.

  Luca felt it was limbo—fuckin’ purgatory for someone coming from the big city. The forests, mountains, and lakes surrounding the region provided great scenery, but the dullness of the area was enough to make her cut her own throat.

  She found some subpar entertainment at a nearby bar full of rednecks and easygoing locals. She stood out like a sore thumb with her expensive clothing and New York attitude. She wasn’t the only minority in the place, but she felt like an alien. Some of the folks didn’t look too accepting of her kind. In her mind, she could almost certainly run this town if she chose to. The highest IQ was probably 90, and the police looked like Keystone Cops. Who would stop her? But was there any money to be made in a small upstate town? It was just a thought.

  Luca sat at the bar and guzzled a beer, minding her business.

  A local boy attempted to make conversation with her, a white boy of average height, a lean build, narrow face, and a bad haircut. He wore a plaid shirt and dingy blue jeans. All the men seemed to dress the same. His upstate accent was strong.

  Luca laughed inwardly, thinking he was the type of person to have appliances in his front yard, or could spit without opening his mouth.

  “Where ya from, ma’am?” he asked.

  “The city,” Luca replied.

  “New York City, huh? Never been myself.”

  He had probably never seen a woman like her—a young lovely, statuesque beauty wearing high-end fashion. He ogled her. He was somewhat cute, but not in a million years was he Luca’s type.

  “What brings you to Dannemora?”

  “Just stopping through.”

  “Well, welcome. Can I buy you a drink?”

  Why not? Luca thought. She ordered another beer.

  The selection of liquor behind the bar was thin, and it seemed like everyone else in the place got loaded on beer more than anything else. The female bartender, who was fifty pounds overweight with auburn hair, handed her a Bud Light.

  “I’m Lance,” he said, extending his hand.

  “Luca,” she said, shaking his.

  Luca found herself rather entertained by him even though his selection of conversation was meager. He had never left Dannemora, never traveled anywhere far, and had a high-school education. The only city he’d seen was Plattsburgh, which still was a small town in Luca’s eyes. He talked about his town fondly and what it was like growing up in upstate New York.

  Luca needed to get her mind off Clyde and her home, and Lance was a big help.

  An hour later, she decided she would do something even crazier—take him back to her motel room. When she gave him the invitation, Lance was more than willing. He paid the bar tab, and they both exited the small bar.

  Outside, she jumped into her Subaru Outback, and Lance got into his car. The hood and one door was a different color from the rest of his car. Luca laughed. He followed the short distance behind her back to the roadside motel.

  Lance was wide-eyed and smiling at her beautiful nude skin as she was about to straddle him and place his average, pink-looking sausage inside of her.

  “Have you ever been with a black woman before?”

  “No, ma’am,” he answered, like she was some type of authority figure.

  He was hard, but nowhere near competing with any of her other lovers. In fact, he wasn’t even in the ballpark. She grabbed his middling hard-on and placed the head at the entrance of her pussy.

  “Ooooh shit,” Lance cried out, feeling the sensation of her wet, tight pussy.

  She placed her hands against his small hairless chest, her eyes closed, trying to black out anything negative. She just wanted to feel something good before tomorrow came.

  It was going to be a tough day for her. She had never met her father. She didn’t want to spend the whole night alone thinking about anything off-putting. The white boy thrusting inside of her was a temporary diversion to keep her from thinking about her father being the first man to be absent in her life, to break her heart and never be around, never mind he was doing a life sentence.

  “Fuck me!” Luca cried out, grinding her hips against him, feeling his hands grabbing her ass.

  Lance started stroking, his eyes rolling back in his head.

  Her legs wrapped around him, she cried out, “More. Fuck me more.”

  He tried to give her more. He reached up and cupped her tits, pinched her nipples and pounded her. He fucked her deep, and slow and hard. Then he built up his pace, fucking her faster and harder, making her moan and groan.

  When she slammed her pussy down on his dick, Lance screamed out, “Damn! You feel so good.”

  Luca made eye contact with him and rode him like a champion.

  He continued to play with her nipples as her juices coated him. “I’m coming,” he said.

  “Don’t come yet,” she demanded.

  Luca needed to get hers. She needed to feel some fuckin’ relief. She felt his pink run-of-the-mill dick twisting and thrusting inside of her. She closed her eyes and dug her nails into his chest.

  Lance tried his best, fucking her like a wild animal. There was nothing to hold him back. This was fucking like it was meant to be—huffing and puffing, and juicy, squishing sex.

  Luca made herself get to the point of no return. She needed to come. She couldn’t hold back any longer, and Lance was trying to hold back too, wanting her to come.

  Lance shouted, “I’m coming! Yes! Yes!” He grabbed her hips and delivered his come heavily, pouring it all into her, the condom acting as a barricade to prevent it from spilling inside of her. He shivered and howled, feeling the essence of a black woman overcome him.

  Luca collapsed beside him. She just had the urge to try something different, and an upstate, redneck, small-town white boy was definitely something different.

  Lance looked spent. His thin body glistened in sweat. “Whoo-wee!” he hollered with joy. “Now that was mind-blowing.”

  Luca chuckled.

  “You mind if we could do that again?” he asked.

  Luca didn’t mind. She was looking forward to it. Tomorrow was about to be a difficult and trying day for her.

  They rested for a moment, talked, and then Lance was hard again, penetrating her this time in the missionary position. Luca closed her eyes and put herself into a different mindset. As he fucked her, she thought about her father and couldn’t shake the feeling of nervousness.

  Chapter 6

  The beautiful white wall surrounding the prison seemed more like it was protecting a castle than a maximum-security prison. In fact, the wall could give a visitor the feeling that they’d taken a wrong turn. The white wall seemed to stretch for miles, covering acres of land, with guard towers overlooking every inch of it. Just across the street from the intimidating structure stood local shops and long-standing homes and businesses. Formerly the home of rappers Tupac and Shyne, as well as the Son of Sam, Clinton Correctional was the largest and third-oldest maximum-security prison in the state. The prison provided employment for many people in the area.

  Luca walked into the prison’s visiting room feeling like she was about to make the biggest mistake of her life. Coming to see her father was a spur-of-the-moment decision. She didn’t know why her father had come up in her thoughts; he just had, like some kind of vision. With the pressure building around her and feeling like the walls were crumbling, she went back to what she thought was the root of her problems—males abandoning her.

  Wanting to look as simple as possible, Luca dressed conservatively in black jeans, a knit sweater, and boots that she’d grabbed from the town’s K-mart. Nothing stood out but her beauty.

  The crowded visiting room was flooded with a variety of male inmates from H Block and closely watched by a half-dozen strategically positioned correction officers. Luca sat in the middle of it all, in a plastic chair at a small table, her heart beating like a drum.

  She set her eyes on the small line of latest inmates coming into the visiting room, single file. She had no idea what her father looked like today. She had only seen a few pictures of him taken over twenty years ago. Would he look the same? Would he recognize her? She fidgeted with her hands as she looked at the six inmates escorted by a solitary guard. One by one, each inmate located his waiting family or friend.

  Luca took a deep breath. There was one man left, the last on line. He stood looking around in his khaki prison uniform and work shoes. He was tall with a distinctive look for his imposing physical stature. He looked fit and monastic with his broad mustache and lantern jaw. Luca automatically knew he was her father.

  The guard pointed her way, and he nodded.

  Luca could see him straining his eyes. She sat upright. She didn’t smile or frown. She was utterly uneasy.

  Her father slowly came her way.

  Luca took a deep breath once again. He had aged well, and he was still a very handsome man, just the way her mother had described him. His dark skin and hazel eyes stood out like snow in the summer. Luca couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  He came to her table looking surprised. “Luca?” he asked.

  Luca didn’t answer him. She felt herself getting choked up. Should she rise up and greet him with a hug and kiss?

  Looking at him, she couldn’t control her tears any longer. They trickled down her face like a river. There sat two people with the same DNA but complete strangers to each other.

  Her father sat opposite of her, staring in wonder. “I thought I would never see you,” he said. “This is really a surprise.”

  “I don’t know what I should call you,” Luca replied.

  “You can call me whatever you want.” He smiled. “You’re very beautiful.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  It was hard to break the ice between them. Her father was trying. Over twenty years had gone by, and he was rotting away for life in prison for murder. He had no family or friends visiting him.

  Travis Roy was a hardcore man trying to now live a peaceful life in one of the roughest prison in the States. His eyes showed a life of trouble, from drug addiction to violence in the streets. But the minute he set them on his daughter, they looked apologetic and loving.

  “So what brings you to finally come see me?”

  Luca took another deep breath; it felt like she was gasping for air. She locked eyes with him. “I just wanted to see you.”

 

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