Consigning Fate, page 42
part #23 of Beginnings Series
Robbie had to be fast and accurate.
He had to be. With an over extension of his leg, Robbie leapt forward to surpass the porch, pivoted his body, held out the gun, and in Dirty Harry action, Fired off five shots of the gun.
A blue mist, large and soaking emerged.
Within a split second, so did a figure directly before Robbie.
Robbie lowered the gun. His shoulders moved up and down, eyes focused wide and forward on the figure.
He pouted his thick lips, moistening them before speaking in a cracked voice. “Who?
One word. One word choked out until he got out another. This time he spoke his next word with passion and desperation. “Please.”
The ink started to disappear, but not before a recognizable arm reach up to the head.
Robbie’s heart pounded harder, faster.
The figure removed the hood. “Robert, Goddamn it,” he said with irritation. “Son of a bitch bastard.”
Was Robbie happy, thrilled, relieved, angry, shocked? Whatever emotion it was, Robbie was still barreled over with his own revelation, and could only gasp out, “Dad.”
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NEXT: BLACK PARADE
Jacqueline Druga, Consigning Fate
