Nervous

“Thank you, miss,” he said before taking off for the bank of cash registers.

I smirked. I knew that heifer and her brat were long gone if they had any sense.

I decided to peruse the meat cases since I was already there. It had been ages since Jon had fixed a decent meal. I didn’t understand why she didn’t like eating out. We made enough money to eat out at least three nights a week, but she was on this cooking-healthy-meals kick. I was so sick of chicken that I didn’t know what to do.

I thought back to all the shit Jon had told that doctor. She made it seem like I was a bad person. Like I was in the wrong all those times. Didn’t Jon realize that I did all that to protect her? That Brenda Morrison chick in second grade had issues. Always teasing Jon about her clothes and hair. Always glaring down her little aquiline nose at us. That day on the playground, she wen

t too far. She called Jon a fat pig, demanding more money, and I wasn’t having that. So yes, I kicked the little slut’s ass. Beat the shit out of her and her friends. They deserved it.

Now I will admit that I felt a little bad about poisoning Shadow. He was a cute little poodle, but I had to do it. Mrs. Greer hollered at Jon for no reason about running on her yard to get a ball. I mean, get real. Shadow could take his little dumps all over her yard at will, but Jon couldn’t get her ball back? So yes, I told her to make that dog stop barking while I was sitting on the porch. His barking wasn’t bothering me that much, but I was trying to play jacks in peace. I really just wanted to get into it with Mrs. Greer after what she had done to Jon. She took it a little too far, though. Talked a little bit too much trash. Sorry, Shadow, wherever you are, but the bitch had to pay.

As for those sluts in seventh grade, they’re lucky all they ended up with were bald heads. I started to buy everyone pizza and sprinkle rat poison all over it. The shit had worked so well on Shadow that I knew it would do them all in. But there was a problem. They all hated Jon and she never uttered a word to them. Just cringed up in fear every time they looked in her direction, changed in the stall instead of in front of them, and sat in the bleachers during gym class. I never understood that shit. Jon would take a failing grade instead of participating. Personally, I know for a fact that we could’ve showed all their asses up. By that time, Jon had started working the hell out of the treadmill we had in the basement at home and drinking water by the gallon. All the baby fat was gone and we were in awesome shape, even back then.

What really pissed me off was Jon talking about my sex life. Something she didn’t know jack shit about. Thank goodness she didn’t, because I didn’t want that doctor bitch knowing how I liked to get my freak on. As far as I was concerned, it was my pussy, not Jon’s. I’d do what I wanted with it, when I wanted, and no one was going to stop me.

I was highly disappointed with the selection of steaks. Half of them looked brown or were laden with fat. Someone really needed to report that grocery store. Every time we went in there, the meat looked less than kosher. Even some of the chicken Jon purchased reeked with salmonella.

I picked up a porterhouse steak and started sniffing the package. I didn’t want to get home, rip off the plastic, and fall out from the stench.

“Is there something wrong with the meat?”

I glanced to my left and saw this fine specimen of a brotha standing there in a blood-covered apron and paper hat. He was tall with sepia skin and dark eyes.

“Yes, the hell there is something wrong with the meat.”

The smile on his face dissolved and he crossed his arms in front of him like I’d just personally insulted him.

“What’s wrong with it?”

I tossed the package back into the case and put my hands on my hips. Nobody out attitudes me.

“Every single time I come up in here, the meat looks foul.” I pointed a few feet down to the chicken. “Especially the chicken. What’s up with all the yellow? Granted, I don’t work for the FDA or anything, but damn.”

He broke out into laughter. That sort of turned me on.

“I apologize for the quality of the meat, and between me and you, I’ve been waiting for someone to come in here and tell it like it is.” He leaned in closer to me and even though he’d obviously been butchering meat all day, I could still pick up on the faint scent of his cologne. “I keep telling the manager that some of this meat is bad, but he continues to sell it anyway.”

I grinned at him. “Well, maybe I’ll blow the whistle on them and call one of those investigative television shows or something.”

“Maybe you should.”

We both laughed. I started squeezing his upper arm because I wanted to know what he was hiding underneath that tacky uniform.

“I wouldn’t want to cause you to lose your job, though,” I said sarcastically. “What on earth would you do then?”

“I have other talents.”

“I bet you do.” I eyed him seductively. “Can I see where you butcher your meat?”

“Huh?”

“I said, can I see where you butcher your meat?”

“Umm, we’re not supposed to have customers back there.”

“So, you’d risk losing your job over bad meat, but you won’t risk it over me?” I stuck my bottom lip out. “I’m hurt.”

“Aw, don’t be that way.” He licked his lips and started looking around to see if the coast was clear before taking my hand and leading me to a set of double doors. “I guess it wouldn’t harm anything for you to take a look.”