Street Surrender

Sheryl Williams is looking for acceptance and love

Sheryl is a beautiful woman who has been running from something that happened to shatter her in the past. Everything and everyone that she had believed in her entire life had been failed her after that one terrible night. Would she forever be damaged by what had happened to her?

Marcus had spent many days at the Williams family home. He had observed Sheryl right out of high school, she was always having fun and fooling around at the pool with her fiancé, Dalton Freeman. She was her parents’ darling little girl. Then suddenly she left for New York after a fight with her father.

Sheryl returns for a brief visit after her brother was found living under the streets of Seattle to welcome him home. After only a few days reprieve she vanishes once again…

“Things never change around here. You saw them all, not one of them seemed thrilled to see me except for the two little girls. At least their opinion of me hasn’t been poisoned, yet.” I brushed past him to straighten my hair and fix my makeup in the mirror.

I saw his reflection move closer to me as he seized onto both of my hips. Then he bent and rested his chin on my shoulder; staring at my eyes mirrored in the reflection above the vanity, he said. “Sheryl, come back to my place tonight. We can finish what we started here.” He ran his tongue below my ear, then quickly kissed my neck.

God help me, I could feel how much he wanted me. I was ready to capitulate when the bathroom door opened again.

Mark, Julie’s editor walked in. It was almost comical, he backed out and looked at the door as if looking for the sign that said men’s room. “I’m so sorry, is there another bathroom that I can use?”

I glanced at Marcus. His expression said that he was still waiting for an answer. “We’re finished here. Marcus was helping me with my neckless; the clasp had broken. It's good to see you again, Marcus.” I turned and walked past both men.

I hurried up the stairs to crash in the room that I used whenever I visited. It hadn’t been here as much as I should have been. I’d been afraid to come after my father’s accident. We’d said terrible things to each other just before I left for New York. That’s why I’d decided to stay there for good.

Opening the door to my on-suite, I rushed in and kicked my shoes off. I glanced around to see if anything had changed since the last time I had visited. My mother had decorated the entire house, and she had finished my room in a garden theme. Pale avocado walls, with a thin pinstripe in muted pink, carried over to the comforter on the queen bed. There were fresh pink roses, carnations, and Peruvian lilies. My favorite flower had always been lilies. I walked over to smell the bouquet.

I pulled off my dress as I hurried through the door to the bathroom; I was only thinking only of my need to feel the hot water. I climbed into the steaming shower, and let the water cascade over me. I wanted to feel clean and reached for the loofah brush and began scrubbing my skin. The spray of water was rushing around me, and I had no clue when the tears had started. I thought I heard knocking on the door of my bedroom. Whatever they wanted would wait until the morning.