Charlie on the Hunt: Pixie

Charlie on the Hunt: Pixie

In no rush at all, while extra slowly emerging out of lockdown, and now working with the vulnerable, I am still diligently creating my third novel. CHARLIE ON THE HUNT”. Each chapter is about a unique character. Only at the end does it all tie in…

 

An extract from

PIXIE

 

Pixie felt instant attraction for a man she met while at a bar with a friend. She asked Brett for his number, and she called him the following day. He invited her out to lunch.

She felt she had to lie to him initially about her age, when Brett revealed his age to be over twenty years her senior. Pixie told him she was out of school, working as a server and about to turn twenty-one. She got away with the lie for the first four months of their passionate relationship. And then she felt obliged to reveal the truth.

Brett spoke to Pixie about leaving South Africa to live in Canada while driving the fifteen minutes to Orange Cat, one of Durban’s most popular nightclubs. He invited her to join him in his dream.

‘I have to tell you something.’ Pixie stopped dancing and moved closer towards Brett. He loathed whirling his body to music with drunken people. He preferred leaning against the pillar on the edge of the dancefloor, watching Pixie dance and preventing men from chatting her up, her very own bodyguard. ‘I can’t keep the truth from you any longer.’

‘Okay. Well, you won’t believe what… I have to tell you something too.’

‘Oh…? You go first then.’

‘Ladies first…’

‘Okay, then promise you will not run away.’ She put her arms around Brett’s waist and stared into his eyes.

‘Mmm… Can’t promise something which may be out of my control. How about I promise to understand?’

Oh, so mature, Pixie thought, while taking a pause and inhaling deeply. She expelled the breath noisily; the sound masked by the thumping dance music. ‘Here goes… I lied to you and felt I had to, or else you would’ve walked out on me during our first lunch together,’ she said breathlessly.

‘What did you lie about, Pixie? Just come out with it.’

‘I’m not twenty years old…’ She hesitated.

‘Older?’

‘I’m going to be seventeen in two weeks…’

‘What did…? You’re what? Sixteen years old? I have been fucking a teenager? A minor? Are you still at school? Of course you are… Fuck!’

‘Yes… Sixteen is the legal…’

He did not wait for her to finish her sentence before he turned and stormed off in the opposite direction, leaving her standing at the edge of the dance floor.

After five minutes of standing amidst strangers, and what suddenly felt like deafening noise, she hurriedly searched the club. Her eyes scanned every centimetre of the space, over and over. Brett had disappeared.

She pushed her way through a sea of bodies to the bar and spotted Jay behind the thick oak table top, overseeing the staff. Noticing Pixie, Jay stopped what he was doing, smiled, and approached her.

The desire, the passion, the obsession all pummelled her as though it were for the first time noticing him. Brett had introduced her to him here at Orange Cat a few months ago. Each time felt as violent as the first time.

He reminded her of Temuera Morrison – born of Maori, Scottish and Irish descent – when he played Jake “The Muss” in “Once Were Warriors”. Strikingly exotic with his ocean-blue eyes and rustically tanned skin.

Each time her eyes consumed his alluring, defined form, she wanted to seduce him. Pixie’s best friend felt the same way about Jay. She soon gave up. As she had said, she sensed Pixie was more of his taste than she was. Pixie pretended she hadn’t noticed, especially as she had a lover, and so did Jay. He was engaged to an older woman. His fiancée’s father owned Orange Cat, where Jay worked as the manager, amongst other things.

‘Are you okay?’ Jay asked.

‘Have you seen Brett?’

‘He bolted towards the exit.’

Noticing how upset Pixie was, he poured her a neat peach schnapps. Feeling more emotional at his kindness, she asked if she could sit in the back. She needed the space to figure out what to do next. Thinking Brett had deserted her, she didn’t know how she was going to get home. She had to make curfew, as she could not stand being subjected to her father’s wrath and punishment. It wasn’t her fault entirely; she tried to convince herself.

‘Of course, you can sit in the private lounge. I’ll let the doormen know…’

She got up before Jay finished his sentence and headed to the door next to the main bar. Jeff opened the door and invited Pixie backstage.

A few meters along a dimly lit corridor, he unlocked the door. He motioned Pixie to enter the spacious room first. She noticed the five-seater couch covered in zebra skin with matching oversized cushions.

She turned back to face him. He stood close behind her. If she had moved her hand backwards a couple of centimetres, she would have touched him. She didn’t know how to stop herself from touching him.

They made no sound as they moved along the burnt orange coloured rug towards the couch. Flopping down, she stared up at him. He sat down next to her, not removing his eyes from her face. She flung her arms out, each side of her. Leaning back as far as she could on the couch, she drew her legs up…

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