That is until I saw Steph standing at the foot of my bed naked and pale in the moonlight. Her body looked just as I remembered it did, both from lovemaking sessions we had and my dream the night before. It was firm and smooth, with just the right padding in all the right places. Her breasts just right to cup, her nipples swollen and extended in the chill air.She slipped into bed beside me, her fingers on her left hand burrowing into the hair on my chest. Tracing my nipple with her fingertips. Her right hand caressing my shaved head, then resting lightly on the back of my neck and pulling me close.I let my hands roam over her soft ivory skin. It is cool beneath my touch. I rake my fingers through her long dyed red hair as I lean forward to kiss her, out tongue dancing inside each others mouths in a kiss that seems to last forever.Breaking the kiss she leans down and I once again feel her hot breath on my neck, her biting hard into it. I feel her fangs push deep into my shoulder, and I. No, I didn’t know who fired first. No, I didn’t see him kill the girl, I was already losing consciousness. No, I was not there to entice a showdown. Yes, I knew Ernie because our daughters went to school together. No, I had never seen him with a weapon before. And on and on. Why was I there? I was deep in thought about helping the neighborhood by installing new lighting in the park as we had done in Loring Neighborhood. No, I did not use drugs or make use of either the disposal units or the needle exchange program. Did I know Ernie was a pimp and that Becci was a prostitute? I had never seen either of them engaged in that activity and considered what the DA called common knowledge to be speculation—on advice of my attorney.My testimony stretched out for three days. Everyone on the Grand Jury had questions for me and I only hoped that I’d been consistent in my answers.I was conflicted.My gut told me that Ernie was one of the things that was wrong with the community. Like.
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