Author's Notes:
I would like to say that boy does it feel good to be back! I apologize for the i ridiculously /i long wait (3 or so more months and it would've been a year) for another chapter but between work, school, people and my brain farts, it was darn near impossible to make up another chapter. But now, I've suddenly decided to open this story once again! I know you, a faithful reader of this story are grateful as well because I too, know how it feels to read a great story, only to be left forever starving for another chapter after realizing that the author hasn't updated it for months, even years and more than likely isn't going to. I STILL LOVE YOU!
Last Time:
While rendezvousing with Mercedes at the Leaflinks bridge, Tommy lays all of his cards on the table while taking in the malarkey "Marcy DeSoto" has been throwing at him. Meanwhile, his daughter is running amuck in LITTLE HAITI (of all places) performing the seemingly innocent task of doing laundry and befriends an outcast Haitian child (of course, using a different alias after learning her lesson). But wait, where is Claude? That's right, he's cooped up in a cabinet of a i breakfast bar /i , hiding from Tommy because Moda had left the house without him. And, that's the previous two chapters in a nutshell.
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Chapter 11: Tension
With Kyra securely strapped into the passenger seat and holding onto the dashboard for dear life, Moda drove the little Blista Compact as fast as its engine would allow back to Kyra's home. She slowed down but not by much, swerving around Little Haiti's corners and carelessly scanning each block for Kyra's house and i quickly /i . This was especially difficult because each house in little Haiti was built just as identical and as crappy as the next. Kyra almost saw her little shack pass by the window completely until she alerted Moda.
"Here it is!" she shouted, causing Moda to slam her big foot on the brakes which made the little coupe come to a screeching halt.
"Do you have your food?" Moda smiled with bullets of sweat running down the side of her head thinking about Tommy. Kyra nodded and turned to wave her good-bye.
"Bye-bye!" Moda said and sped off.
"Wait!" Kyra said. "Don't…go." She whispered sadly to herself. Her eyes watering and her mind wondering and wanting to destroy whatever or whoever was so important that they had to take her angel away. She walked into her house, slumping her shoulders. By that time, Moda was well on her way onto the Starfish Island bridge.
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Claude was still trapped in the closet (metaphorically speaking), relieved that Tommy had hurt himself and left the room because if he were to have opened that cabinet door…Never mind, he didn't even want to i think /i of what would happen if that wooden door would've just swung open, with an angry, raging Italian behind it. Taking deep, shallow breaths, he gently pushed the cabinet door open using the nail on his index finger to avoid any inevitable creaking noises. He exhaled deeply and slowly climbed out from under the breakfast bar, one foot at a time, and stood up. He stretched his muscles and tiptoed his way to the lobby of the house.
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Tommy, upset that he had missed a call and have had yet to have his calls to Moda returned, searched high and low all over the house for his daughter.
Damn it all…When is someone gonna invent a way for me to know who called my phone?! That would be so fucking convenient right now…(A/N: wait, did star-69 exist back then?)
The first place he had looked was in her purple-mountain-majesties of a bedroom. Sure there was an unmade bed, a muted television wasting valuable electricity, tape cassettes carelessly stacked and scattered near the stereo and a fresh, flowery smell in the air, but no Moda Vercetti. Despite her sporadic sloppiness (which he hoped would not become a habit), he felt as if something was missing…He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt as if things that were regularly present in her bedroom had suddenly disappeared. He brushed it to the back of his mind and regained his train of thought. That train had made a pit stop as a red flag went up.
"I wonder…" he asked himself, almost sprinting down the stairs towards Claude's den. He stormed into Claude's "room", throwing everything around. Alcohol bottles shattered against the wall, and wine glasses crashed onto the rugs (A/N: and wouldn't you have to slam a glass pretty damn hard to break it on carpet?). He brushed off everything on the couch (that Claude sleeps on), including that famous leather jacket. Suddenly, Tommy noticed the presence of that familiar, fresh, flowery smell that he had been acquainted with earlier, omitting from Claude's cheap jacket.
"…The hell?" he muttered, sniffing the pockets of the jacket to successfully pinpoint the scent like a bloodhound. He reached into an inside pocket of the jacket and found a brilliant pink piece of paper. He took it out and read it out loud.
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Claude, who had been watching Tommy from under the stairway in the lobby the entire time, instantly felt his heart almost stop and his temperature increase by five degrees. His forehead was a Niagra Falls of nervous sweat and his palms were too, barely making him capable enough of gripping the pole he was standing against for support. Claude figured his best (and pretty much only) option for the time being, and one of his old favorites in such situations was to get the i hell /i out of there. Luckily, one of the huge front doors was cracked ever so slightly. He approached it, using only one finger from each hand to pull it open, and escape, running like mad towards the main street.
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Moda, approaching the house and preparing to slow down to a stop, clenched her eyes shut and silently prayed that her cover wasn't blown. Then again, she remembered that she never i was /i lucky enough to get away with i anything /i . She opened her eyes and apparently, she was still driving pretty fast because…
BOOMP! THUD! SCREEEEECH!
"OH MY GOD!"
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And THAT'S the end of this chapter! Oh yeah, I wanted to leave everyone hanging. So hopefully, you've read and enjoyed this chapter and hopefully I can continue writing this and FINISH this freaking story and maybe continue another volume. I've never done a Threequel let alone a sequel so maybe I should try it.