Taken from my current WIP:
—“What do you want?” Marisa snapped. She leaned on the back of the building, her starched outfit making a loud paper sound as it rubbed against the rough brick wall. Even though she was lighting a cigarette, she kept her cool gaze locked on Jess.
“Thanks for stepping outside to talk to me. I didn’t want to speak inside.”
“I said…what do you want?” Marisa finally looked down at her cigarette and took a long drag, holding the smoke in momentarily before blowing it out of the corner of her mouth. The smell surrounded Jess anyway and she wiggled her nose to keep from sneezing in Marisa’s face.
“Um,” Jess floundered mentally for the right way to tell Marisa that her ex-lover was dead, “It’s about Roger, actually.”
“Yeah? No shit. Why else would you be here? We aren’t together anymore, don’t you know that?”
Jess shifted her weight from one leg to the other, took a deep breath and then spit out the words, just as we had rehearsed in the car on the way to the pizza joint, “Roger is dead, Marisa. He attacked me, and when I pushed him off of me, he fell wrong. The cops don’t seem to believe me that it was an accident and no one else I know understands how violent he would get.”
Marisa’s eyes widened slightly but she didn’t respond right away. Instead she casually tucked a section of hair behind one pierced ear and took another drag of her Camel. When she did speak, her voice was flat and devoid of emotion, “What’s this got to do with me?”
Despite the warm night, shivers ran up Jess’s arms. She stared hard at the slightly older woman before responding, “Because I know what he did to you.”—
DYING to REMEMBER by Trish M. Dawson