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Chapter One
Embry Starks
The light turned green when I pulled up to the line to exit my apartment complex. I pressed the gas only to have to slam on the brakes when a motorcyclist ran the light and cut me off, almost causing an accident. My tires screeched to a halt. Enraged, I mashed my hands against the horn while blasting expletives.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going, bastard!” I hollered while flipping him the bird.
He held up his middle finger while speeding off on his motorcycle, not giving a damn about me or the fact that he could’ve killed me. I sped off, tailing him until he pulled over at a gas station. There should’ve been an angel on my shoulder telling me to turn around, not to confront him, and go about my merry way. Instead, two devils were telling me to go off on his ass, scratch the paint off his bike, and him too, if it came down to it. I pulled my car alongside his bike and honked my horn obnoxiously before cracking my window.
“Excuse me!” I hollered.
He twisted his neck in my direction before pulling his blacked-out helmet off his head. “You talkin’ to me?” he quizzed, squinting his dark brown eyes.
“Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you! Watch where the fuck you’re going next time! Your stupid ass ran the light and almost killed me!” I hissed, narrowing my gaze.
“Your ass looks fine to me.”
My lips pressed into a white slash as I clenched my jaw. “You lucky I don’t report your ass for reckless driving!” I threatened.
“You said your peace, now fuck off, bitch.”
My eyes popped wide, showing the whites as I shoved the gear in park, grabbed my phone, and hopped out of my car to jab my finger right in his dumb ass face. I stormed around the car's hood, ready to take our altercation to the next level. If he wanted a bitch, I was going to give him exactly what he wished for.
“Who you callin’ a bitch?” I growled, sizing him up.
He had on a well-fitted, navy blue suit with silver pinstripes, designer loafers, and a hoop earring in one ear as if his ass was artsy. Tattoo ink covered his neck and spread from his calloused knuckles to his wrists. Individual, charcoal-colored braids adorned the crown of his textured head, surrounded by a fresh fade around the sides and back. His brown complexion was a mashup of mahogany and rich chestnut. His skin was blemish-free and looked as smooth as butter. A set of long, black lashes shadowed his cognac-brown eyes. The thin mustache around his juicy lips connected to the well-groomed goatee and beard that covered his chin.
His chest was thrust out, and his legs were planted wide across his bike. Although seated, I could tell he had to be over six feet tall. He kept his chin aimed high as if he were better than me because he rode on two wheels instead of four. Instead of barking back on my ass, he laughed in my face. “Your ass is like a lil’ chihuahua, you know that? All that fuckin’ yappin’ and shit.”
On God, I wanted to slap that nigga. My nostrils flared as I quickly snapped a picture of his license plate and ran back to jump inside my car. “We’ll see who has the last laugh when I report your ass to the cops, ho!” I snickered before speeding off.
Coming February 8th!