Page 38 of SNOB

ELEVEN

MAC

Tap, tap!

Someone knocks on the window of my La Voiture Noire.

“Open up, playboy, I just wanna talk.”

It’s not Ember.

“Five minutes. I just need to put on some clothes. Please.”

Hearing Ember Everett beg is a sound as sweet as hearing her choke. But glancing at the clock on my dash tells me she’s past her limit and Ember disrespecting my time just won’t fly.

Tap, tap!

Closing my eyes, I let out a deep breath. This isn’t the first time someone’s knocked on my car window. The crackheads wanted a quick payday. Gangsters wanted more. I’m already down five grand, but this guy with the bat looks like he wants more than money.

He smiles, a row of gold shining on his bottom teeth. Putting the window down an inch, I lean over so he can hear me. “I’ll give you five hundred dollars to leave me alone.”

He laughs. The small Roman numeral tattoo under his eye and the camo pants hanging off his ass tells me this guy’s ready for war. “Your ride. I want it.”

Now I’m laughing. “No.”

“Alright, playa.” He swings that bat back and that’s all it takes to have me out the car and his black shirt around my fist. Slamming his body against the black paint, he laughs again. “You think you can come to The Valley in that and not get your shit jacked? How delusional do they have you in The Hill, Daddy’s Boy?”

Guys from The Valley are as bad as guys from The Hill; all fucking talk.

He has a firm hold on the bat when I grab it. But once it’s in my hand, I flip it before showing this idiot a smile of my own. “Wanna see how delusional we can get?”

“Angelo!” Ember’s voice comes from behind me before something pulls at my shirt. “Mac, get off him!”

“You know this idiot?” Angelo and I respond in unison.

“Emmy,” he follows, looking beyond me. "Tell me you don't know this guy."

Emmy?

Another tug on my shirt distracts me enough for Angelo to push me off.

“Get away from him,” she warns. “Go home.”

“The fuck you doing with a corny dude like this?” Angelo’s about my height, slim but I felt muscle. Moving my eyes to Ember, twenty minutes has her a little more dolled up than usual. Is that mascara? Blush? Her outfit doesn’t surprise me, fit for spring in that artsy t-shirt and bomber jacket. But that black pleated skirt shows off those thick thighs I want to sink my teeth into until I draw blood.

She grabs Angelo’s hand, pulling him away. They exchange words as I pull out a cigarette, but I keep my eye on him. He looks like what you’d expect from Paradise Hill. A thug.

“Oh, Emmy,” Angelo says. Yes, I’m eavesdropping. “This guy might be as psychotic as you are.” They walk towards the sidewalk and my muscles tighten as she laughs at the fucker who tried to smash my windows.

What’s their deal?

What’s their history?

“Don’t waste my time, Ember,” I call.

She looks back with a glare before Angelo calls out, “Don’t come back ‘round here, this ain’t your Paradise.” He pulls his own cigarette out the back of his pocket, and a group of boys just like him joins him as they walk away.

“Let’s go,” she says, moving to the passenger door. But I wait until Angelo and his friends are out of sight before I deal with her. I don’t miss when he looks back with a wink as I suck back the rest of my cig. “You can thank me for saving your ass later.”

---