“Uh-huh. I see.”
“Good.” The right-lane light is green, and no one is moving. I lay on the horn. “Come on, you ball-swinging motherfucker!”
“Bro, what the fuck is your problem?” I can tell by the tone of his voice he is seriously concerned.
We’re moving now, thank God.
“Road rage, man. I need to chill out, but dumb asses that sit at green lights piss me off.”
The light is yellow, and I am one car behind the intersection. Silver Balls slows down, and I lay on the horn. He flips me off, then punches the gas. His silver balls fly in the air. I punch it and make it through as the light turns red.
“Fuck yeah, bitches!” I yell out my victory.
“Seriously need to chill, man.”
“Just celebrating the small stuff.”
“So, when you coming home?”
“When I have the bankroll I need,” I say, swerving left to try to locate Hailey’s car. I spot it two lights ahead. She’s heading out of the city. I’ll be able to catch up.
“You ahead?”
“Yeah, sure am. You need some cash?”
“Nah, I have a fight in two weeks. I’ll be good.”
There isn’t a hell of a lot of confidence in his voice. “You sure, man?”
“I’m good, Morrison.”
“Don’t bullshit me. If you need something, let me know.”
I slam on my brakes, stopping right at a red light. “Fuck!”
Jagger laughs. “Traffic again?”
“Fucking red lights. Total bullshit.”
I grab my phone and hit my online banking app. I transfer two grand into his account. “Just sent you some cash. If you don’t need it”—I pause as I look up and see the light is green, punch the gas, and lay a little rubber—“then put it back after the fight. You’ll have it if something comes up.”
“Unnecessary, man.” Jagger sighs.
“That’s what brothers are for. Look—” I hit the brakes when Ball Sack’s nuts fly again. “Tool,” I hiss.
“Excuse me?” Jagger laughs.
“Look, I’ll catch up with you. I wanna snap a pic of this asshole’s truck and send it to ya. I’ll get with ya soon.”
“Sweet. Thanks, man.”
“Like I said, that’s what brothers are for.”
I grab my phone and take a pic, then send a message.
For men who ain’t got enough of their own, there is now help. Big trucks and fake balls can help give you back your confidence. WTF!
I push send as the light turns green.
I follow her for ten minutes until we are in a small, upscale community. But the girl I’ve been playing with isn’t upscale. She doesn’t seem like someone who looks down on people. She seems fucking authentic.
I try to turn off the crazy scenarios I have playing in my head, ’cause I am logical. I’m calculating. I am not one to let myself get wrapped up in emotions. I want facts, and I wanna see with my own eyes, so I continue to follow.
Two minutes later, I am on a side street in an honest-to-God fucking school zone. Now I have some really crazy shit rolling in my head. I watch as she pulls over and jumps out of the car. Then she runs inside this preschool while I wait.
When she comes out five minutes later, she is laughing and smiling at this little kid she has in her arms. The kid is dressed in a little pink romper with a matching bow in her hair and pint-sized Chuck Taylors. This kid is about the show. Well, her parents are, anyway, and the girl I’ve been borderline obsessing over isn’t show. Hailey is all tell.
I take in a deep breath, my mind calming the fuck down. I allow myself to rationalize this situation, and pretty much figure out that Hailey has a day job as a nanny or something. This makes me laugh, because I was right: Although her body is all soft skin and sexy, sharp curves, her exterior, her show is not. But hot damn, when I am in her, on her, touching her, I can read that tell, and she is not as hard and rough around the edges as she thinks she needs to be.
I pull out after she is two blocks ahead and follow. I should turn around. She isn’t crying anymore; she’s smiling. She wasn’t going to some man; she was picking up someone’s kid. I should chalk this up as a stupid-ass move and turn around. But I don’t.
Two miles away, she pulls up in front of an apartment complex in not the best part of town. She carries the kid inside, and then I see another chick pull up. She gets out of her car and runs to the door Hailey went in.
I sit and wait.
Ten minutes later, Hailey is carrying boxes out the door and throwing them in the back of her ride before she runs back in. As she comes out this time, she has boxes piled up in her arms, and I know damn well she can’t see. When she trips and falls, the boxes spill out all over the sidewalk. She covers her face with her hands and pulls her knees up to her chest, her body shaking.