Chapter Thirty-Six. DC Jessie Symons.

1965 Words

Chapter Thirty-Six. DC Jessie Symons. “Dirty Diana…yeah” The sounds of Michael Jackson echo around my car as I make my way into work. Am I a fan of Michael Jackson? Not particularly. Am I a fan of this song? Definitely, I know, I am messed up in the head. Never more so than these past few days since my own personal ‘Dirty Diana’ was falsely arrested. Shit. Scrap that, she isn’t mine, she is her own person, and even when I was given the opportunity to make her fully mine, I backed away quicker than a mouse seeing a cat looking at them, licking their lips. Saturday was interesting, Diana in my black polo shirt, in my apartment, looking like she belonged there. Her effortless beauty and that twinkle of naughtiness in her eye had me all kinds of messed up. Especially as I know just h

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