Page 20 of A Hurt So Good

“How could it be bad? I wandered into yours, and I’m fine.”

“That’s because I’m being nice. And you’re wearing blue,” I say, noting the color she has on. She looks down at herself before glancing around and dragging her gaze back to meet mine.

“And?”

“And that is the only reason I’m being nice to you.”

“Then don’t fucking be nice to me, asshole. I don’t need your help anyway,” she snaps snatching her arm away from me and starting to walk down the street. I follow behind her because this is kind of amusing for me.

“You know, you don’t listen well,” I tell her.

“And you’re annoying.”

“I’m being helpful.” She keeps walking letting out a laugh before I stop walking. She glances over her shoulder to see I’ve stopped walking and then fully turns to face me.

“You’re done following me?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t go past this road unless I’m ready for a fight,” I tell her, nodding toward the sign.

“Why?”

“I just told you. Different gangs.”

“And if I go over there?” I shrug.

“They may let it slide, seeing how you don’t know shit about shit.”

“Or?”

“Or they may beat your ass and rape you,” I tell her truthfully. She seems to think it over before turning back like she’s going to walk over there when I call out to her again.

“What do you need a gun for anyway?” She turns back to me before walking toward me again.

“Protection.”

“And you couldn’t ask your rich lawyer daddy for protection?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe if I had a rich lawyer daddy, I would.” I like her already. I like her little mouth and the way she can’t seem to keep it shut.

“Who do you need protection from?” I ask, stepping into her space. I can tell I’m making her nervous as I reach up and graba strand of her hair that fell from the top of her head. I twirl it around my finger as she smirks at me.

“What difference does that make?”

“It makes all the difference. Maybe a gun isn’t what you need.”

“Oh really? What do you think I need?”

“I learned a long time ago your hands are your greatest weapon if you know how to use them,” I answer as I keep twirling her hair. Before I know what’s happening, she pulls back and swings. My head snaps to the side as she pulls away from me and runs. I smirk and run behind her.

She’s fast, I’ll give her that, but she isn’t fast enough to outrun me. I keep up behind her, letting her think she’s winning when she cuts down the alley. Her footsteps stop and I know she’s trying to hide from me. What she doesn’t know is I like the chase. I’ll be the predator. She can be the prey.

I stalk slowly down the alley, listening intently. When I reach the old garage with the door half open, I slide under it, knowing she’s in there. Slow, calculated steps, I make my way inside. It’s dark, but I’ve been in this garage before. I know what’s in here.

“Although I already had my workout today, I don’t mind a little game of cat and mouse,” I say into the silence. You can hear the bass from the speakers from a party down the road, but that’s all.

I walk around the stack of tires just as she’s about to run again, reaching out and snatching her by the hair. She yelps as I pull her toward me. Her body bounces off of mine, her hands fighting to get free. She begins to kick and scream as if that’s going to help her.

“I do love a fighter,” I tell her. She stops fighting and looks up at me with anger in her eyes. ‘

---