Free Craving Shannon by E. D. Brady

don’t want to put you out of your way.”
    “Insist all you want, but you will not leave this bar by yourself,” he countered.
    “I can take care of myself. I can—
    “I don’t give a shit what you think,” Chad barked. “I’m taking you home and that’s final.” He didn’t really mean to sound like her father, but he could tell she was panicking about letting him know where she lived and at that moment, he didn’t really give a shit about her silly pride. He would never allow her to travel home alone at that hour of the night. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll allow you to walk up to your apartment alone while I wait in the cab, provided you promise to text me when you’re safely in your apartment.
    “I don’t have a cell,” she said quietly, letting her eyes drift to the floor.
    ‘Oh for fuck sake,’ he thought. ‘Note to self: get this silly girl a company cell phone.’
    “Okay,” he said. “I’ll drop you outside your building, will that do?”
    She nodded, biting on her lip while refusing to meet his glare.
    It was worse than he could have imagined. Even the cab driver was apprehensive about entering such a notoriously bad area of the city.
    “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Chad said under his breath. He felt Shannon stiffen beside him and prayed she hadn’t heard that quiet outburst. “Which building?” he asked.
    “The third one down,” she said timidly.
    “The one with the jacked-up car in front,” he questioned, feeling his temper rise.
    She nodded and undid her seatbelt.
    “Thank you for a nice day,” she said, opening the car door and exiting before he had a chance to answer.
    When she disappeared inside the building, Chad told the Cabdriver to head back downtown. He was angry as hell but couldn’t figure out why. Was it because a lovely girl like Shannon had been dealt a shitty hand, whatever that hand may be? Or was it because he wanted the girl so badly, but was mad at the universe for making her so damn young? Whatever the reason, by the time the cab reached 61 st street on the FDR, Chad was regretting leaving her in such a dangerous place.
    “Turn around,” he ordered suddenly
    “Excuse me?” the cabdriver asked.
    “Please, go back to the girl’s building,” he reiterated.
    “I can’t go—
    “Sir, I will pay you a thousand dollars if you go back uptown and wait while I collect my friend,” he bargained.
    “One thousand dollars?” the driver asked skeptically.
    Chad pulled five hundred dollars from his wallet and handed it over. “I have five hundred more right here,” he held up another five, one hundred dollar bills for the driver to see through the rear view mirror. “I’ll hand these over to you when you drop me off in front of my building in Tribeca.”
    Within minutes, the cab was racing back uptown.
    Chad sprinted from the cab and barreled into the foyer of Shannon’s building, trying to ignore the drug deal taking place in the courtyard. He scanned the list of names next to the individual doorbells, but couldn’t see Shannon Walsh among the them. A man walked into the building behind him. He turned and addressed the man. “Sir, do you know where Shannon Walsh lives?”
    “You a cop?” the man replied suspiciously.
    “No, I’m her friend,” Chad answered. “Do you know her?”
    “There’s a pretty white girl that lives on the third floor. Is that her?” the man queried.
    Chad shrugged. “What apartment?”
    “3B, I think,” the man answered.
    “Thank you,” Chad called out, pushing through the door that should have been secured by a lock. He took the stairs two at a time. Turning to face 3B, he pounded on the door, not caring about the time of night or whom he may be disturbing. “Shannon!” he bellowed. “Shannon, open the door!” He leaned his forehead against the door and prayed he had the right apartment. He heard the chain pull back and the lock click.
    Shannon opened the door and stood in the entryway