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“Great, can you move it?”
“Yeah, in a minute.” He turns back to the other guy and picks their conversation back up as if I’m not standing here.
“Well, you see,” I say, regaining their attention. “I have somewhere to be. So, I need you to move it now.”
Baseball hat chuckles before turning back to his conversation. Oh hell no.
“Maybe you didn’t understand me,” I try one more time to be nice before I lose my cool.
“Look bitch,” baseball hat sneers as he turns back to me. “Sit the fuck down and wait until I finish talking.”
“Bitch?” I repeat. “I got your bitch,” I say as I pull my braids up into a ponytail. I may not be able to take on both of them, but this mase in my purse was going to help me even the field.
Before I could go for my mase, a man steps in between us. I’ve never seen him before. He’s tall. Not as tall as Gabriel, but taller than average. He’s trim but built like an athlete. He is wearing a long sleeve white button up, but the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.
On one arm from his fingers all the way up to where the shirt started, are tally mark tattoos. There has to be at least two hundred of the groups of five. He has dark brown hair, a jaw line that could cut diamonds, a slight beard, and a roman nose that looks as if it’s been broken a few times. I wished I could have seen his eyes, but they were covered in dark shades.
“Are you alright?” he asks, in an accented voice.
“Yeah,” I say, caught off guard by his sudden appearance and his voice.
“This has nothing to do with you,” baseball hat says.
Tattoo guy turns to the side to look at the two guys.
“I think she asked you to move your car,” he says in that deep accent.
The two assholes laugh. “And like I told her, I’ll move it when I get good and damn—”
His words are cut off when tattoo guy shoves his elbow into his nose and then rams him, headfirst, into the side of his friend’s window. The glass shatters raining down everywhere. When he lets the baseball hat guy go, he slides to the ground in a slump.
“A woman,” he says, running his tattooed hand through his hair. “Should never have to ask you to do anything more than once. Now move the fucking truck.”
The other guy quickly climbs out of his car, bends down and grabs the keys off his unconscious friend. He then quickly runs to the truck and moves it. I’m still stuck in the same spot.
There is only one other person that I’ve ever seen move that quickly and that’s Gabriel.
“Thank you,” I say to the stranger.
He dips his chin at me. “You are very welcome. Now, hurry home.”
I don’t argue with him. I quickly get in the car and back out of the parking space. Tattoo guy watches me the entire time, never taking his eyes off me. I didn’t necessarily get a bad vibe from him or that he was dangerous. I mean, if he was going to hurt me he had ample opportunity. He was actually nice. I was still going to mention the situation to Gabriel just in case.
My car speaker rings when I’m nearly five minutes from home. I answer the call using my steering wheel.
“Hello?”
“What do you think about plays?” Andrew asks as soon as I answer the phone.
“Don’t have much to say. I’ve never seen one. Well, with the exception of those Madea ones I use to watch on bootleg.”
Andrew laughs. I notice that as nice as his laugh is, it holds nothing to the way Gabriel’s makes me feel.
“What do you think about you and me catching a show this weekend?”
I smile as I turn the corner onto my street. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
A male voice is heard in the background of the call. “Hey, Summer,” Andrew says. “I have to go. But I’ll send you the information for the date later.”
