• Crime,  Short Story

    Run Away by Jack Cameron

    Mom, I’m sorry you have to find out like this. If I were half the man you thought I was, I’d be telling you my plan of how I’m going to make everything right again and pay back that bastard for what he did. But I’m not and I’m not. I hope when you get this that you’ll do the smart thing. Don’t try to find me. I’m not worth finding and will only bring you trouble. Kayla was always the good one. I’ve tried to trace back my actions and what happened to see if any of it could have been prevented. Was it the conversation after the funeral?…

  • Fiction,  Short Story

    After Sex by Jack Cameron

    “Yes! Fuck me. Harder! Yes! Yes! Oh hell yeah, Nick! Just like that.” I’m sure the neighbors can hear her. And there was a time when this sort of thing would make me come in a heartbeat. But now I feel like I’m watching a movie. Karen comes hard and collapses on top of me. I feel the sweat on her back. She laughs as she looks around for something to clean up with. I think about who might be on Letterman tonight. When did this happen? I remember when not just every thought but every decision I made in life was at least influenced by sex. And it wasn’t…

  • Crime,  Fiction,  Short Story

    Augie by Jack Cameron

    “This is a great apartment…” There was a pause after he said it. Augie was fairly certain the boy could not remember his name. Augie didn’t mind. He wasn’t sure of the boy’s name either. Tony, Troy, something with a ‘T’. He watched from the bed as the boy walked around his apartment. The boy had his shirt off. Augie was enjoying the view. This boy was probably half Augie’s age with skin so white it looked like milk. He had that farm-boy-in-the-city look to him. Augie wondered how many times the boy had done this sort of thing. The boy picked up a framed photo from the dresser. Augie…

  • Crime,  Fiction,  Short Story

    Ride Along by Jack Cameron

    The shotgun blast was so loud that it took me a moment to even understand what I’d just done.  I can’t say for sure what I was feeling. There was anger. There was fear. But most of all, there was a strange giddiness. If it hadn’t been my first time firing a shotgun, maybe it would have felt differently. The two men in front of me looked at me in disbelief. One of them had just the hint of a grin when the other one fell. And though I knew I was done, I was ready to fire again. The previous night, there was no shotgun. My only weapon was…