RIPPED & READY (PART 69)

RIPPED & READY (PART LXIX)

          I stood there beside my car, watching the taillights of the Escalade as it made its way out of the complex.  My knees were shaking and my heart’s rapid pace started returning to normal.  Peewees’ grab and feel session registered 10.0 on the Richter scale (It was a house-quake without the house).  I remember Collin’s aggressiveness at M6, and it was a total turn on for me, but Peewees’ created a fear in me because I knew that he was the real deal (He has killed people before). 

          I know a lot of people who wanted to be with a thug, but I knew without a doubt I wasn’t one of them.  That lifestyle had to be a constant adrenaline rush because you always had to sleep with one eye open.  Wherever you were on the hierarchy was never a permanent spot because there was always somebody who wanted to take your place; if that means you had to lie, cheat, or kill someone to take their spot then, so be it – there weren’t any rules when you played that game.

          “Marco, are you okay, brotha,” he said, starling me (apparently that was the theme of this evening, getting startled).

          I really had to be more aware of my surroundings.  Shit.  First, Pewee sneaks up on me and now this mofo. 

          “What’s happening Lance,” I asked?  

          “I just left our patient, he’s coming along just fine. I was just coming out to empty the trash,” he said. 

          I asked myself silently, how could he empty out himself?

          The thought caused me to giggle. 

          He looked at me, with his right eyebrow raised trying to figure out what that giggle was about. 

          If he only knew.    

          I extended my hand, “Well I appreciate how you’re looking out for Joseph,” I told him (But in my mind I still remembered him cupping my ass during that hug).

          He shook my hand (not brotha man style, just a regular handshake). 

          I didn’t want this bastard thinking I was feeling him.

          “Oh, no, it’s no problem,” he said, looking at me like I was last pork skin in the bag. 

          Before things could get any more awkward, I forced a smile onto my face and said, “Well, it’s after 11:00pm, I need to hit it (the bed) because I have a long day ahead of me,” I told him, hoping he’d get the hint and “day-um” sure hoping that he had a place to stay. 

          “Right, for sure, Marco, I know ya’ll two need some time to yourselves, but I just wanted you to know that you have a true friend in me, brotha,” He said, grabbing me and giving me a bear hug. 

          I did not reciprocate.  This son of bitch was too touchy feely for me and I kept my guards up.  I knew what he was trying to do, he was trying to ease his ass up onto my good side, but I wasn’t having it.  Without any further qualms, I point blank asked him the burning question. 

          “Lance, what are your true intensions?  Don’t think I forgot about how you touched my ass when you gave me that hug,” I asked, looking him dead into his eyes.

          “Aww, man, it wasn’t like that, I was just being friendly to my boy’s boy,” he said, sounding like a “got-dayum” idiot.

          “Well, bro, your boy isn’t your boy, he’s my boy, and if you looking for a boy, then you really need to find another sandbox to play in,” I said, stabbing his ass with a sharp glare.

          He started chuckling.  “Looky-looky here, thickness, you got a brotha all wrong,” he said.  “Joseph is like a brother to me.  When I met him on his first day at college I knew he was a little green, so I took him under my wings, like father-goose, you know,” he told me. 

          “Uhum, brotha, let me assure you, Joseph already got two beefy wings here, so I’m warning you that you need to make sure that you keep your hands to yourself – that goes for him and me,” I told him, in a firm no nonsense tone.

          He chuckled again. 

          I didn’t smile or grin.

          “You soft brothas need to check yourselves because you might run up against the wrong nigga one day,” he said, without chuckling this time.

          No this trick ass motherfucker didn’t just call me soft. 

          I walked over to him and got in his face.

          “The only soft on me is that load I drop in the toilet, asshole.  Let me assure you that I can throw these things with the best of them, so do not underestimate the chubby stature of mine,” I said, angered by the smugness of his responses.

          He bumped his chest against mine, and leaned down closer towards my face.  I jumped back and told him, “You fucker, don’t you ever get that close to my face again, or I’ll…”

          “Marco and Lance, what are ya’ll doing?” Joseph asked. 

          That was the third time that night that someone had snuck on me. 

          I had to get better at using my third eye.