Obscure Blood by Christopher Leonidas Read Free Book Online

Octa had gone through in the past few days, he started doubting Juan. Five days had elapsed since Octa had waterboarded Bob. He is afraid that Juan is a killer and wonders if he might try to kill his family too. If Juan wanted revenge from the family, that would have happened long ago. After all, who is left? Only Octa, it seems. What would give him real, serious reason for doubting Juan, who, right now, just seems like a punk sort of drug dealer—the dime a dozen type.
    “Me? Quit? Have you completely forgotten me?” Juan came closer and wrapped his arms around his big brother. “I’ve missed you . . . and Pa,” he said after a pause.
    “I’ve missed you too. Come inside, you little brat. Let’s talk about what in God’s name you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”
    Octa put his right arm around Juan’s shoulder, as they walked toward the front door, when Lucinda called, “Love! Maisey’s still in the van!”
    “Well, look who it is! Almost didn’t see you there, Lucinda. I hope my brother is keeping you happy,” Juan said in a weirdly flirtatious manner. He eyed Lucinda as he gave her a mysterious smile.
    Lucinda looked at Octa and then at Juan, “Hello Juan, it’s nice to see you after so long.”
    “I need to take care of this real quick,” said Octa as he broke away from Juan.
    Octa hurried toward the van and called out to Juan that he should make himself comfortable inside till he came back. Lucinda escorted Juan through the door and told him how their dog had been killed last night by someone in the neighborhood who had threatened the dog for trespassing and for attacking him on several occasions. Lucinda could never believe such a thing. Maisey was a docile and caring animal. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.
    Juan carefully listened as he noticed the attractive, still young-looking woman in front of him and responded with “tsk tsk” now and then as Lucinda told him how their little dog had died. I hate dogs , he mused to himself. I would kill every last one of those motherfuckers , and thought about the incident that happened to him in his childhood. A snarling, barking German Shepherd dog had run up to him and chomped onto his upper, right thigh, leaving several puncture wounds.
    He was shaken out of his thoughts when Lucinda asked whether he would like something to drink. As she made her way into the kitchen to fix him a scotch on the rocks, as Juan had requested, he scanned the living room.
    Every inch and corner were a lot better than the kind of places where Juan had spent his last six years. He got up and looked at the comfortable furniture and the dark carpeting. He decided that when he left this place, he would be taking some of the goodies with him, with his brother’s consent or without. My brother would understand, and he always knows , he thought to himself, smiling.
    Lucinda came back into the room surprised to see a standard 9-mm caliber pistol lying flat on the sofa where Juan had been sitting. She stood there shocked and frightened and saw Juan come hurrying toward her, with a menacingly devious smile on his face.

About the Author
    Leonidas Christopher, born December 27, 1992, hails from Port-au-Prince, Haiti. He is an active US Marine. He lives his life practicing the adage that life should not be about how it is but about how we can make it. He spent his childhood aloof from his family, spent his time wandering around dangerous and poor zones learning, as he did, about life. He met strangers who later became his friends, and he discovered that they too had their own secrets buried within. As he grew up, his own tragedies were added to the awful memories and stories of his friends. Using these, he hopes now to make a difference for the better in other people’s lives.
    Visit his website at www.christopherleonidas.com