I guess you can say my interest in older men began when I was seven.
I got lost in an awful neighborhood. Walls painted with random pictures and words. People's houses and cars blasted with music. I can smell a questionable scent on each person I pass.
As I continued walking, I avoided making eye contact and ignoring the calls of scary older men. Sniffing my stuffed red nose a few times, I tripped on a can.
Rubbing my bruised forehead, I let the tears roll down. Looking up, I saw a guy sitting in a red car with a tattoo running down half of his arm. He was smoking a cigarette and drinking alcohol. With one glance, you can tell he is bad news. He was surrounded by a bunch of other people who were the same, but he was different. Power and authority were radiating off of him.
His electric blues caught mine, and I tightened my arms around my teddy bear. He threw his cigarette on the ground, and stepped on it, putting out the fire. Finishing his drink, he gently places his cup down on the hood of the red car.
Hopping off, he paced towards me. My heart started racing as I looked into his hypnotizing blues. Kneeling on one knee, he continues staring at me as my body trembles.
"Hey, kid, you lost?"
Deep.
Water continues forming in the corner of my eyes, and I nod slowly. Releasing a deep breath, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a lollipop.
"Here. Stop crying. I hate it when kids cry." He places a red lollipop in front of my face.
Biting my lips, I lean back slightly, "Mommy and Daddy said not to take stuff from strangers," I said quietly.
He lets out a small chuckle and lowers the red lollipop. Licking his dry lips, he nods in understanding. "You're a very smart girl for listening to your parents." Lifting a hand, he patted my head gently. I sat there, and my heart continued to race as he lifted a strand of hair from my face with his warm fingers, tucking it behind my ear.
I thought he was a dangerous man, but for some reason, he's not so bad.
"Hey, Drew!" He yelled, and a blonde guy in basketball shorts jogged over.
"Yeah?" Drew said in a deep voice, but not as deep as the blue-eyed man.
"Call the police station. See if they are looking for a little girl. Brown eyes. Black hair. Pink dress. Holding a teddy bear. Name-" he trailed off, looking at me.
"Angelica Evans," I mumble, looking at the cement ground.
"Angelica Evans," he said my name so naturally, so beautifully.
Looking up, the guy lifted a brow while looking at me. He turns back to the blue-eyed man and nods, then walks away. Looking back at the blue-eyed man, my stomach growled. He snickers, probably hearing the hung beast inside of me.
"Hungry, Angel?" He whispered.
I tilted my head, "Angel?"
Rubbing the back of his neck, his lips tilted up. "Yes. I'm going to call you, Angel. You want some food?" He held out his hand.
Looking at his palm, I debated whether or not I should follow him. My parents did teach me about stranger danger, but I am so hungry from all the walking.
"I won't bite you," he whispers as he inches his hand towards me.
I nodded and took his large rough hand. He led me into a house with a bunch of dangerous-looking people. Mommy told me not to trust strangers, but she also told me never to judge a book by its cover. Which one should I listen to? Parents are so confusing sometimes.
