Roads Leading Back

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, I'm back again, and with another installment of the latest fruit of my inspiration. This chapter might be a bit confusing to some, but I'm pretty satisfied with the way it turned out. Enjoy, and don't forget that reviews and/or constructive criticisms are always appreciated!


Roads Leading Back
Chapter Three: Boulevards of Sacrifice, Part One


Dearest Jennifer,

It’s been six months since I last saw your face, and even as I sit in my cell writing this letter, one among many that I still give to my mother that I know will never reach you, the thought of you keeps me sane. The days are long and quiet, and the other inmates give me space. They understand my situation, but I can sense that they’re uneasy. They’ve never had someone as rough or as volatile, as they say, in this place, so it’s a rather uncomfortable change for them all. It doesn’t matter, really. To be honest, since the warden allowed my notebooks and pencils, all I’ve done is work on my books when I’m not out getting exercise.

I’ve finished three books already, and Mitch, my best friend whom I’ve told you about in previous letters, has found an editor willing to look at my writing and see if it’s worthy to be published. Despite all that’s happened to me, to us, I’m still living my dream. I promised you I’d be able to chase my dreams, but I never expected it to be from behind cold steel bars.

I really miss you, Jennifer. I wonder if you’re still at the same town, if you’re still working at the same place, if you still think of me. I wonder if you’ll remember me when one of my books does get published and you see it in a bookstore.

It’s almost Lights Out, so I better wrap things up. Always thinking of you,


James Drake


* * * * *


“How’s he doing?”

“He’s sullen,” Vicky Drake replied. “I’ve never seen him so quiet.”

“I’ve read his letters,” Mitch said. “He doesn’t do much aside from eat, exercise, or write.”

Vicky took the open envelope. “Thanks. I’m still trying to figure out where Jennifer used to live. It’s the least I could do for him.” She thumbed her blind eye. “I owe him so much.”

“Any word from the hospital or the police?”

Vicky nodded. “Harold’s been arrested.”

“Well, that’s something, anyway. The cops and the District Attorney are surprised that James didn't kill him.”

“I should get going. After work, I’m going back to our old town to see if I can’t find Jennifer’s address.”


* * * * *


Dear James,


I know it’s been three months since I stopped receiving your letters, but I still reply to them. I doubt this, like all the other letters that Sylvia somehow found, will find its way to you, but writing to you keeps you in my mind.

Omi took me to a doctor last week with Erica, and we’re pretty sure that the baby’s going to be a boy. Omi was really happy, though to this day, he still hasn’t asked at all about you or the circumstances behind my pregnancy. He has a knack for knowing more than he lets on, though, so I figure he at least knows whom you are.

He’s been awfully silent lately, and I think it has to do with Erica being around him all the time. I don’t know why, but that’s been bothering him lately. I’ve told Erica to give him some space, that he’s a busy man and that he makes time for us (and by that I mean all of the girls that live here) when he can, but she doesn’t let up. I don’t think it’ll be long before Omi talks to Erica, or even myself, about having his space.

Erica turned eighteen three days ago. We woke up that morning to find a birthday cake in our room, and throughout the day, all the other girls gave her warm wishes. Before my mother died, I’ve never seen Erica so happy. I guess it’s because all the other girls here came from the streets or abusive families or other less-than-pleasant characters that the two of us feel comfortable here. The girls look out for one another, and they also look out for us, which is a nice feeling.

I should finish writing this letter now, because I’m feeling somewhat restless. I’ve been feeling the need to get up and run around lately, and it’s probably because I’m due in three months and everyone’s telling me to kick my feet up and relax.


With all my love,


Jennifer Allans


* * * * *


“Jennifer, be careful. Omi’s not going to be happy if he sees you working yourself stupid.”

Jennifer tossed a pile of plain white sheets onto an empty bed and sat down beside them. “I can’t help it, Sylvia. I need to stretch my legs a bit and run about. I get sluggish when I don’t, and that’s the last thing I want to feel around here.”

Sylvia smiled. “Jennifer, you need to rest. One of the other girls can give you a hand.”

“Where’s my sister?”

“Talking with Omi again. She’s really taken to him, though I don’t see why.”

Jennifer furrowed her brow in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Jenny, it’s public knowledge among the other girls why you’re here.”

Jennifer looked down in shame.

Sylvia took a seat beside her. “Anyway, I’m surprised that Erica hasn’t turned away from men in general. Your father sexually abused her, and yet I’ve noticed that her heart skips a beat whenever Omi walks by.”

“Erica believes the same thing I do,” Jennifer replied. “Mister Cronus…Omi gave us a home far from what we experienced.”

Sylvia frowned. “He’s a good man, Jennifer, but he’s not exactly a knight in shining armor.”

“He may not have shining armor, but his heart is in the right place.”

Sylvia smiled. “That I can agree with.”

“Of course you can,” Jennifer said. “You mentioned to me before that your old…pimp used to beat you and force you to do drugs. Omi found you, got you clean and took care of you, just like all the other girls that work for him. He did the same thing to us.”

There was a knock at the door, and the two women turned to address the newcomer as the door opened.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a familiar voice announced.

“Not at all,” Jennifer said with a smile as Omi stepped into the room.

Omi smiled sadly. “Jennifer, something has come to my attention that concerns us both. When you’re finished, I’d like to see you in my office.” Without another word, he left, closing the door behind him.

“What was that about?”

Sylvia shrugged. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, it sure has him worried.”

“He was worried about something?”

“I was one of the first women he took under his wing, if not the first,” Sylvia said. “I know him better than most of the girls, and he was really concerned about something.” She stood up. “I’ll get two of the other girls to finish this, and then I’ll come with you.”


* * * * *


Sylvia and Jennifer stopped at the large mahogany doors that led to his office.

“I’ll go,” Sylvia said humbly.

“You can stay, Sylvia,” a muffled voice interrupted her. “You’ll find out about this anyway.”

The two stared at each other numbly before Jennifer turned the doorknob. They slowly crossed the doorway to a well-lit room with a panoramic window behind an elegant desk, a high-backed chair facing away from them between the window and desk. On one side of the room were several bookcases, and on the other, several pieces of S&M garb as well as whips and chains were hung carefully on either side of a door. In front of the desk was a red couch.

“Sit,” Omi said gently. The two women tentatively moved around the couch and sat down, surprised, at either side of a serious-looking Erica.

“Erica? What are you doing here?”

“I asked you two to come,” Erica said.

“Indeed,” Omi interrupted. The three young women looked past the desk as the chair turned about. “Jennifer, I wanted to let you know that your father has finished paying off his complete debt to me. I don’t expect you to care, but seeing as this is your father, I thought I should let you know.”

Erica looked away.

“He had to sell his house to do so, and my associates tell me that he is now living with some family.”

“Well, that’s something,” Jennifer muttered.

“I also know that you both are legal age,” Omi continued, waving away his first subject. “I’m glad you shared your cake with the other girls, Erica. They really appreciated it.”

Erica looked back at him with a bright smile on her face. “Thank you.”

“Jennifer, Erica came to me recently with some news that should be brought to your attention, even though she did not want you to know.”

Jennifer looked at her little sister. “What is it?”

“What does this have to do with me?” Sylvia asked, looking at Omi.

“Jennifer, your sister wants to become one of my girls.”

Sylvia and Jennifer stared at Erica in surprise.

“Erica, you can’t be serious!”

Erica nodded. “I am, Jennifer. Omi gave us a home, a better home, with more friends that care about each other than both you or I have ever known.” She turned to her sister. “We’ve spent the last three months cooking and cleaning up for the other girls, and they appreciate it so much. They even help when they’re not…busy.”

“That doesn’t change anything…”

“It does change everything!” Erica snapped. “Jenny, you paid rent for the both of us when we still lived with…with…” She shook her head vehemently. “You don’t have a job anymore, Jenny. Omi gave us a new home out of the goodness of his heart, and I want to pay both you and him back. He gave me a home, so I’ll work for him. You took care of me after Mama died, so let me take care of you now.”

Jennifer felt her chest swell up. “Erica…”

“I myself have tried to dissuade her, but she’s persistent,” Omi said. “And, on the business side of things, it does seem like a decent proposition.”

“Erica, things are going to change if you decide to become one of Omi’s girls,” Sylvia said carefully. “You’ll never be the same again.”

Erica nodded. “When I first talked to Omi about it, he warned me as much.”

“What about you, Omi?” Jennifer asked.

Omi took a deep breath. “All of the girls have come from broken homes or the streets, and I’ve given them a home as well as a better job than those two-bit pimps that litter the city like roaches.”

He stood up and turned to the window, looking down at the courtyard. “People think I’m no better than those punks with their flashy suits and fur coats, but I know that I am. I’ve worked with my girls one on one to come to grips with their darker nature so that they know themselves better.” He looked at one specific couple, a man cross-dressing as a woman being dragged around the courtyard by a woman with black hair and clothed only in a black bodysuit and boots. “I helped my girls get clean of drugs and stay clean. All of my customers are free of sexually transmitted infections, and I’ve gone to great and questionable lengths to ensure that they continue to be.

“As Erica said, I took the two of you in out of the goodness of my heart, and you have done more than enough around my home and my place of business.” He sat back down. “I have no say in her decision. I’m asking you, as her older sister, and, technically, her guardian, what you think of this development.”

Jennifer was at a loss. She looked to her sister, who held her hands with pleading eyes, and back to Omi, who stood again and looked out the window.

“It’s the only way I feel that I can make myself clean again,” Erica said. “I want to do this for me, Jenny.”

“I don’t understand, Erica,” Jennifer said.

“It’s my choice to make,” Erica answered, sounding older and wiser than Jennifer ever thought she would. “I want to make myself right again, and…” She suddenly turned away.

“…What?”

“…And being with Omi is the only way I know how. He saved us, saved me, from Papa, and I want to know what it feels like when it’s right.”

Jennifer’s gaze flew once more to Omi, who clenched his hands behind his back.

“Jenny, the girls told me about Omi. He really cares.”

Jennifer shook her head. “I can’t give you an answer right now, Mister Cronus.” She lowered her head. “I’m sorry.”

Cronus lowered his head. “I know. The decision to make her one of my girls is something that’s just as hard for me as it is for you.” He turned back to the three of them. “I’m not giving you any sort of deadline, Jennifer. I just wanted you to know because you’re her older sister. I would never do something concerning either of you without your knowledge or consent.” He turned around again to look out the window. “The three of you can go. When you’ve reached an agreement, don’t hesitate to come see me.”


=[ End of Chapter Three: Boulevards of Sacrifice, Part One ]=

A/N: I know things seem pretty Jennifer/Erica-heavy right now, but there's not much to talk about where James is concerned, seeing as he's in jail, and all he does is sulk and write. His part of the story will come up, worrieth not. Anyway, on to personal kudos...

grandma: Everyone goes through hardships, though they're not as blatant as what James and Jennifer are going through. Oh, and as you may have noticed by the end of this chapter, James' stepfather didn't get killed, he was just bludgeoned into a coma. Personally, I think getting sentenced to a medium-security prison for aggravated assault is a godsend (not that I would know).

born_to_do_it: As usual, your comments are always appreciated. My selfless character insertion is disgustingly blatant and uncreative, I know, but I've always wanted to pop myself into a story with that type of character: a somewhat fancy Robin Hood of pimps, if you catch my meaning. XD

Anyway, that's all for now. See you next chapter!