My eyes finally landed back on him. He had been watching me, inspecting me as I looked around his room. I chewed on my lower lip nervously. I knew wha... he wanted, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to give into him. I knew I could get hurt. As if reading my mind he spoke up. “You’re not going to be just some one-night-stand, Jasmine,” he said staring down at me as his hand brushed against my cheek again and I instinctively leaned into it. “Why do you think I rarely go out on dates?” he asked, it. The stranger was oblivious to the physical danger he was in.“Colonel Anderson?” he asked.Joshua looked up at the stranger and answered. “Yes, sir? is there something I can do for you?” those pistols previously mentioned were now half drawn from their holsters.“Eugene Herrington of the overland stage company, Sir.” he handed a card to the Colonel. While the tension in the room lessened, it didn’t go away completely.Colonel Anderson reached up with his left hand and took the card. He examined it. Nicole squealed, Roberta thrust.The rhythm was irresistible.Number one Slayton Street had been a fire station. A large two-story brick structure from the thirties.The nineties were a little more practical, and the staff and equipment were moved to some modern accommodations further down the street. In a fit of sanity someone decided that the existing building could be put to some use, rather than being knocked down, and Slayton Corner was born.Andy wasn't at all sure, despite having — he. Her family had moved two thousand miles across the country from the small town she had called home for her whole life to the big intimidating city. She was surprised how many black people lived in the neighborhood and it seemed like every boy in her school and every male teacher were of African descent (the girl were more diverse). Tara felt a little apprehensive as to how well she'd fit in, as she had never met any black people before and already started wondering if she could bring herself to.
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