Chapter Eleven
Two weeks later…
Julian glanced at her as they lay under the stars, their bodies intertwined on an old plaid blanket in his small, well-manicured fenced backyard. The grass smelled sweet and the air brimmed with the scents of nature. Milan looked up at the stars, a placid smile on her beautiful face as she rested on her arm, falling undoubtedly into a daydream.
“You okay? Are you cold?”
“No, everything is just perfect.” The blackness of night blanketed them. He never tired of her smile. “Tell me a story, a true story…” She asked.
“What kinda story?” He snuggled a bit closer.
“I don’t know, something from your life. Yeah, read me a page from the book of your life.” Her voice and face soothed his heart.
“Okay, let’s see…I got it. When I was a little boy,” he began, “I had seen this house that I currently live in a gazillion times, Milan. My mom would drive past it on her way to taking me to school, in her old, beat up station wagon.” He couldn’t help but smile at the memory of his mother’s hands clutched around the steering wheel, a cigarette dangling out of her mouth and her red and white waitress uniform with all the wrinkles and stains clinging to her thin, yet womanly form. Her jet black hair would be wound in a tight ponytail and she’d sing to him the songs on the radio, her tone off-key but beautiful all the same, while he and his stepsister sat sprawled on the lumpy backseat, their book bags full of homework and excuses as to why some of it wasn’t done.
“We’d go past this house right here, and I’d point to it and say, ‘I love that house, mom! One day, I’m going to buy it!’ And she’d laugh…you know, a real easy laugh, not making fun of me or anything like that, just the kind a mom gives a kid to not squash his little dreams with nay-sayin’. Then she’d say, ‘You sure love that house, Jay.’”
“She called you Jay?” Milan asked, her eyes upon the stars.
“Yup. Everyone did; most people still do.”
“Finish the story.” She held his hand a bit tighter.
“So, I’d say, ‘Yeah, Mom, I’m going to get that house when I get grown and get some money.’ I knew we couldn’t afford it. I saw it come up for sale a couple of times, and I’d start fantasizing about it. In my mind, I’d pretend that my stepfather would come home and say, ‘Hey, I bought that house Jay wanted. We’ll move in tonight.’” He paused. “Of course that never happened. We weren’t destitute, but I guess you’d have called us lower middle class … I never was hungry or anything like that, but we struggled a bit from time to time.” He swallowed, feeling her stir against him, her body soft and comforting.
“My step-father worked really hard as a mechanic. He was gone more than he was home. I think she liked it like that, though. My mom seemed to have a thing for guys that worked on cars.” He chuckled. “It seemed my dad, my stepfather and her boyfriends before him, were all either mechanics or truck drivers.” He yawned. “Anyway, when I got my first gig at Pyro-Ink, the very first tattoo salon I ever worked out of professionally, I had saved up enough money to get a house. I didn’t know where I was going to put down roots, though…just kinda knew I needed a place to lay my head, one that I could call my own. I hated apartments because I like to burn a lot of shit, and people would think I was smokin’ Mary Jane.”
Milan burst out laughing, a musical sound. He squeezed her hand.
“I am the type of guy that needs space…room. I don’t like being under or above people…or beside people, unless that person is my baby…” He caught her eye as she stared at him, and he winked.
“I like that,” she whispered.
“Yeah, you like that, huh?” He said coolly as he looked down at his bare feet, then back at the sky. “So, one day, I was driving around, and saw this house right here. There was no ‘For Sale’ sign on it but I parked in front of it any way, and just stared at it for the longest. Then, I got out my car and walked up to the front door and knocked. No one answered, so I left my name and number and asked that whoever lived there, to please call me as soon as possible. I didn’t think I’d hear anything back, but I did. Some lady called me that evening and I told her, point blank, ‘Hey, I want to buy your house.’
“She was real quiet on the other end for awhile. And then she was like, ‘It’s not for sale.’ I told ’er, ‘Okay, well if it ever is, call me.’ I didn’t hear back about it, so I started to look at other places. I could never find a place I really liked though. Then, I got a call. That same woman called me and said she’d gotten a job out of town and needed to sell her house fast. We made it happen. I hadn’t even been inside the place, but I knew I’d love it. I walked inside, looked around, envisioning just how I wanted it to be.” He put his hands up as if he were taking a snapshot. “It’s not a big house, but it’s perfect for me. I really feel at home when I enter it. Anyway…” He cleared his throat, getting back on track. “I looked around and, you know, thought about how I’d replace the carpet, windows, update the kitchen, knock out a wall upstairs to make a bigger bedroom, get the basement finished and water-proofed to do my private tattooing—my goal at the time.”
Milan stared into his eyes, transfixed, making him feel like a great storyteller. He pretended to not see her, but the way she looked at him made him feel one hundred percent important. He loved that…
“Then, as time passed, I said, ‘Screw this basement shit. I can just open my own shop. Working from home wasn’t always convenient.”
Milan closed her eyes now, as if in the middle of a peaceful dream. His hair covered part of her shoulder, the strands sprawled about, and he felt like the rising sun, basking under the vibrant moonlight, in competition with the prettiest star in the entire galaxy. That star was his precious Milan…
He pulled her closer to him, and it didn’t take much for she was suddenly lying atop his over-sized Bob Marley T-shirt. Now, her hair blended with his. Wavy, dark brown textured tresses slightly intertwined with his own. His groin throbbed, reminding him that no matter how cool he tried to be about the situation, the scent of her perfume and skin was turning him on and he’d lost track of time—didn’t recall even what he’d been saying. All that he knew was that he felt happy, and there was no other place he’d rather be.
“Where did the name ‘Soul Inscriptions’ come from? Was that your idea?” she asked, her voice muffled as her cheek pressed into his chest.
“Funny, I was just getting to that…” She’d gotten him back on track. “So, I went around looking for a property to rent, and ended up buying that space instead. Named it ‘Soul Inscriptions’ because of my philosophy about tattoos. Some people get them because they want to feel important, cool, and different. There was a time when tattoos were only associated with sailors and indigenous people. They were considered un-classy, only done by people who didn’t fit into society, rebels and derelicts. That changed; and now, everyone, even grandmothers and great grandmothers, are getting them but to me, the true meaning of a tattoo, to permanently mark oneself, means that you claim something to your very soul. You want it written on your heart. You can’t take it with you, so you try as hard as you can to prescribe meaning, to make sense of this craziness around us, you know?”
“Yes, I know.”
He was quiet for a few moments while he ran his hand up and down her arm. He toyed with her sleeve, biding time, until he gave up the battle. He needed her. Her soft lips slightly parted when he rolled her onto her back and straddled her.
“What are you doing?!” She giggled, his ruby and gold Chinese lanterns strung high above them making her dark eyes glow.
“I’m about to show you something…”
“I’ve already seen it many times,” she teased, forcing him to laugh, too.
He pushed her legs apart and settled between her thighs as he brushed her hair out of her face.
“You know…I think you’re so used to keeping things to yourself, keeping things all bottled up, that you forget to breathe. I think you forget that you can talk to me, that I want you to, and shit, you just need to.” He traced the side of her neck with his fingertips.
She swallowed and stared at him more intensely. “I never really thought about that, actually. I didn’t use to be that way, though.”
“Well.” He exhaled. “Sometimes things happen that change us. If we keep letting something change us, it becomes a part of us, a habit. It’s no longer just an incident.” He snaked his hand under her shirt; she bucked playfully beneath him.
“I knew you were going to try this!” She laughed, pretending to fight him off of her.
“Relax…you’ve got it comin’ to you later.” He winked. “I have something else in mind right now, though.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically and smirked. “What?”
“Just feel it…” he said in a whisper as he hovered above her. “I’m drawing all over you…”
Her smile slowly dissipated.
“Tattoos…I’m putting tattoos all over your body.” He swirled his fingers, traced them on her, made straight lines, circles, triangles and prisms as he drew her closer to his spirit. “This is what you look like to me…a beautiful garden, with all sorts of flowers no one has ever seen nor smelled before, in colors we never even knew existed. Imagine a world where hues, shapes, sounds and aromas are all foreign to us. Nothing like we’ve ever known; that is what you’re like to me…some beautiful art no one has ever perceived, touched or cracked open. Some walking garden, a moon child with thighs that are softer than fur and sticky like honey after I taste you…”
She sighed and shuddered ever so slightly beneath him.
He went lower, placing his fingertips on her exposed navel, then made his way to her thighs.
“You went through so much…were in so much pain, and I connected with you because through that, you were still so strong… You survived. I survived, too. And…you are so beautiful…so moon-like…full…glowing from the outside in. Hurting, from the inside out…cloaked from head to toe…but you needed something. And I needed something, too…you…”
He kissed her stomach, a gentle brush of his lips against her slightly trembling flesh.
“The first time we made love, I will never forget it. When you came, it was music to my very heart.” He laid another kiss upon her warm skin, this one a bit lower. “You are what I’ve been waiting for, Milan. I’ve met my share of women…but none of them were like you.”
Her body responded beneath him; he felt her gaze following his intimate trails.
“Just like this house and my tattoo shop, I knew what I wanted, what I was looking for. I know who I am…and I know who you are too, and I want to know even more about you. Let me…make you…cum to me…” He tugged at her jeans, and soon, they were around her hips. He slicked his hand inside of her panties and lay to the side of her, causing her to moan loudly as her hips bucked to his ministrations.
“That’s it…” he urged as he ran his fingers up and down her saturated pussy, then focused on her clit. “Your pearl…I’ve run my tongue across it so many times…and I can’t wait to savor you again,” he said, his voice raspy, his soul drawn to her, falling under her spell. “Your body…I want to possess it. I want to be tattooed across it. I want to be inside of it. Will you let me draw my name on your skin, baby?”
With his free hand, he began to write his name up and down her thigh. On a moan, she tossed her head back, bunching up the blanket as he continued the slow, torturous seduction. “Yes…yesss….”
“That’s right, baby…say it, tell me what you want.”
“I want…you…” She writhed under his touch, whimpered with pleasure.
After a while, he got back on top of her, keeping his hand steady against her pussy. He forced her knees together, let them take his hand hostage, locked between her constricting thighs, while he continued to press his fingertips into her pelvis, rocking his cock against her. Her eyes widened as the sensations mounted. She gasped.
“Keep your legs locked, just like you used to when you’d masturbate as a teenager,” he instructed before leaning down and kissing the side of her face, layering it with delicate kisses. She smiled shyly, so becomingly. He smiled back.
“You know that’s how you used to do it…humping sheets…” He grinned into her ear.
He heard her laugh between moans and gasps.
This warmed his heart as he continued on until he felt her wetness increase tenfold, flowing over his fingers. She screamed out and clung to him, climaxing hard beneath him.
“Oh…shit.” She sighed, spent—and looking happy.
He rose onto his elbow, kissed her cheek and stared down at her, pleased with his handy work. Literally.
“That was…good.”
“Mmmm hmmm.” He grinned. “Anything else you want? I aim to please.”
“Tell me…something sexy.” She panted. “I need to catch my breath for a sec. That should hold me over for a moment… I just love hearing you speak. You have such a way with words.”
“Hmmm.” He traced her navel with his fingers. “Sexy like what? Or do you want me to shoot from the hip? Askin’ for stories and sexy shit tonight, that’s a tall order,” he teased.
She smiled up at him, her eyes darkening with wonder and inward amusement that bubbled forth right before him.
“How about…a confession?”
“Hmmmm… Okay, here is my confession. It turned me on so fucking much when you told me you hadn’t had sex in a while…that I was your first after such a long time. I don’t know, I just found that erotic… I guess it’s male ego.” He shrugged. “We sometimes want to feel like we are special, chosen, you know.”
“I did choose you.”
That admission filled him with joy. “That’s good to know…very good to know.” He kissed her nose, beaming down at her. “What we have, I believe, is different. Every time we come together like this, it’s an experience, not just sex.”
She gently stroked his ear, making him coo into her grasp.
“I like how we fit together,” she whispered.
“And I like how open you are, willing to try new things. I like…no, I love that you want me like you do. I can feel how much you want me when your body melts beneath mine and I feel your pussy grabbing my dick, pulling me further inside of you…shit, baby…” He ran his hand over her breasts, then cradled her head, bringing her forehead to his, treating her like a precious, fragile gift. Then, he pressed into her, pushed his groin over and over into her pelvis until he couldn’t stand it any longer and the woman was moaning beneath him. Reaching low, he unzipped his pants. His cock sprang forward and within seconds, he was guiding himself inside of her. She sank her teeth into his shoulder blade.
“Ahhhhh!” Throwing her head back, her lips parted wide as if she were delivering a silent scream. Her body arched as he pushed in and out of her, until he was fully immersed and satisfied with the depth. He thrust harder; her wet walls gripped him and he found himself unable to slow down.
“Uhhhh!”
“Mmmmm….ahhhh!” She held on, her sexy moans turning him on impossibly further.
“I fucking love you, baby!” He pumped harder and faster, his dick seemingly having a mind of its own, and his hip muscles tensed and released at each pass. “…Never going to let you go…never.”
“Don’t you ever!” she screamed, clutching him tight, churning her hips hard and seductively until he lost complete control.
“Uhhh, shit! Shit!” He clutched her tight, pushing deeply within her, his eyes rolled back as he came; his climax forced his muscles to tense as he released within her wet, sheltered confines.
“Mmmmm!” he groaned into her hair, her ear no doubt warm from his intense exhaling. He slowly opened his eyes, though it was a struggle. The desire to simply fall asleep tried to seduce him as each additional second passed. He ran his lips against her cheek while she remained motionless, but hugged him so damn tight, he couldn’t move if he’d wished to.
“See…”
“See what?” he asked groggily as he wrapped his arms around her waist and nestled his chin in the crevice of her sweet smelling neck.
“You do some strange things, sexually, but they are sexy…and they feel good…sooooo damn good!” She laughed lightly. “This is why I can’t leave you alone. You’re too good in bed, apparently too good outside on the ground, too,” she joked.
“Oh, really?” He grinned, his brow arched. “So you are only with me because I can make you cum over and over and give you tattoos at a discount?” he teased. He gripped her fingers, then interlaced them with his own.
“You know what I mean!” She released him to pull her shirt down. Rising, he lay back on his elbow, allowing her room to draw her panties and jeans back up. He reached down and fastened them for her.
“Tell me what’s on your mind?” he asked as he studied her expression. She was drowning in something, her thoughts had turned left, and he refused to allow her to mentally travel without him riding shot-gun. There was a long pause as he stared down at her, his heart beating fast, patiently waiting.
“I think…no, I won’t take the easy way out.” A spark of fear flittered momentarily in her eyes, then it was gone, although her eyes brimmed with pain and passion. “I love you, Julian.”
He took her hand and kissed it, holding onto to it a bit tighter.
“I knew that.”
“I knew that you knew; sometimes it’s just good to hear it…to say it.”
“Quite true… Hey, I want to ask you something.” He couldn’t keep his hands off of her, but he forced himself to create a bit of space between their bodies.
“Yeah?”
“Would you marry me?” He scratched the back of his ear, looking down at her as if he’d only asked her to go inside with him for a cup of tea or coffee.
“What did you just say?” she asked softly, as if she couldn’t trust her own hearing.
“I asked you to marry me, Milan,” he said seriously, wanting her to see that this wasn’t a joke or a game. “I want to marry you, do you understand?” He cupped her face and laid a gentle peck on her lips. She kissed him back, tasting like the fresh strawberries he’d fed her earlier that evening.
“Julian,” she breathed, looking at him in disbelief. “You have no idea how shocked I am right now.”
“Why?” he asked sincerely. “We love each other. I want you to have all of me…my world, my home, my name. I want to give it all to you! I’m not worth a damn if I’m not sharing what I love most with someone who loves me too…and I love you so damn much, Milan.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. And then, she smiled wide at him as she caressed his chin with a slow drag of her fingertips.
“…Don’t tell me no.” His voice trembled. Everything was on the line, and dare he admit it, he suddenly felt as if she just might let him down. “Tell me anything but ‘No.’”
“How could I tell you ‘No’, baby, when my heart already said ‘Yes?’”
*
“And this is Julian…” Milan introduced. He almost didn’t catch the introduction, so mesmerized he found himself by her body, dripping as it was in garnet kisses, also known as sparkling sequins.
Damn, she looks good…
Lust crawled up and down his spine. He couldn’t see her outfit clearly earlier that evening. He’d picked her up and brought her to the company dinner as her date, just as they’d discussed so long ago, but when he arrived she had been wearing her long, light-weight jacket, which had properly hidden a delicious, succulent candy, better known as her lovely ass, just below the surface. Now, she was unwrapped. He traced his bottom lip with his tongue in appreciation, then snapped back into reality once someone in the near distance erupted into boisterous laughter, grabbing his attention from his impish thoughts.
He extended his hand to the man standing there in his dark russet suit, and a head of brown hair with a bit of gray at the temples. It was perfectly coiffed and paired with a thick, Southern accent fit for the narration of children’s stories.
So, this is the big guy….
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kearny.” Julian shook his hand heartily.
“Please call me Garrett.” The man’s light brown eyes sparkled as he gripped Julian’s palm, as if he knew a secret of some sort.
After a bit of small talk, Milan led him over to the dining area.
“They have some things you can eat, Julian,” she explained as she pointed to the elegant salad bar at the restaurant. “And look, these right here look fine, too.” She pointed to some rolls, conveniently close to a carved roast beef station, causing him much amusement at the irony of the situation.
“Honey, don’t worry about me. I can make my way around.”
“By the way,” she said, a crooked grin on her gorgeous face as she grabbed a plate and added some sliced fried green tomatoes to it. “You look absolutely amazing.” She looked him up and down, making him feel good on her arm while he ogled the raw sliced vegetables cured in Mandarin sauce.
“Thank you.” He picked up a plate as they made their way, one after the other, down the line for appetizers and salads.
“I really like what you did with your hair, too.” She spooned cold string beans with almond sauce on her plate.
“I’m glad you like it.”
He placed a few blackberries on his own, tempted to pop one in his mouth right then and there, but thought better of it. Julian had taken extra care with his appearance that day; his hair received the royal treatment. He’d slicked it back and plaited it into a tight, neat braid, allowing it to hang down his back. He wore a black blazer, black dress pants and insanely expensive dress shoes that he’d only worn once in his thirteen months of owning them. A vibrant red tie covered the shiny, ebony buttons on his shirt. Black swirls danced on the bottom of the tie, giving a bit of a Japan meets Parisian style feel.
Fact of the matter was, he knew how to dress. Julian was a laid-back, down home, country boy at heart who preferred signature shirts with jeans for comfort’s sake but he had a flair for appearances, for the physical and visual. After all, he was an artist and he knew what looked good with what, and what didn’t. A natural matchmaker of fabrics, texture, textiles, hues and shades, he could create a masterpiece in a matter of moments. This was one of his strong suits, and part of the reason why, when he first met Milan, he could sense she was a woman with style and sophistication. Her clothes weren’t over the top, just the right amount of sexiness and class to reel his rebellious ass in. He leapt on her sharp hook, caught on the line, dangling there like a damned fool, begging to be taken back home, fried and eaten. She had him…
Suddenly, a woman with gleaming blue eyes and a slinky light gray dress came up to Milan, her eyes steady on Julian. Julian looked away, avoiding the woman’s obvious flirtatiousness when she gave him an impish grin. He surmised it was her way of paying Milan a compliment in her taste of companion.
“Ohhhhh Milan, so this is the guy, huh?” The woman’s eyes dropped to Milan’s engagement ring, a black oval cut diamond set with white diamonds all around it. “What an unusual yet beautiful engagement ring! Ahhhh!” She dramatically gasped as she held Milan’s hand, forcing his poor fiancée to have to try to balance her plate.
“Thank you, Nancy. Yes, this is Julian, my fiancé.” Milan shot him a secret look as if to say, ‘This heffa has lost her mind’, which made it hard for him to keep a straight face.
“Baaaad boy! Look at those tattoos!” the woman continued on, batting her eyelashes as she released Milan’s hand and pointed to his wrists. He’d tried his best to cover them up, but a few peeked out from beneath his shirt and of course, there was the one on his neck, too—a black rose wrapped in barbed wire in honor of his mother.
He didn’t want to become a distraction.
I shoulda used the Dermablend…
He was simply there to be with his woman, nothing more, nothing less; but then, he saw him…
Milan spoke with another woman that joined them in line, and before long, the trio of women were talking about things regarding work, laughing and smiling through their banter. But Julian stood there frozen like the freshly made margaritas, holding his lopsided plate close for he’d almost spilled its contents on his chest. It had to be the guy; he was exactly as Milan had described, and he’d held tight to the details when he made the woman confess to him what was bothering her. Blond hair, tight, thin lips, long face, a constant smirk across his face, and his notorious sweater vest and shirt paired with pleated pants. A couple of weeks earlier he’d noticed she was not quite herself, and come to find out, even after a warning from Garrett, the fucker was up to some carefully crafted tricks and veiled threats that were hard to prove as malicious. Milan tapped his shoulder, bringing him to full focus.
“Hey honey, you want some of those stuffed olives? I heard they are really good. They have feta cheese in them.”
“Mmmm hmmm,” was all he could muster as he grabbed a few, then made his way down the rest of the line. Soon they were sitting at a long white linen covered table and eating amongst well-dressed strangers. Two other tables with other employees sat close by, and everyone began fellowshipping in celebration of the employee, Darryl, who was retiring. For the most part, many of Milan’s coworkers appeared quite nice and one thing was for certain—they seemed to think the world of her. He wasn’t positive if these folks were just putting on appearances, if they were sincere or acting splendidly because he was there. He’d been told he had a threatening appearance, which boded well for him in his profession, but at times he felt displaced. Regardless, all things considered, it was unlikely anyone would say anything slick to her while in his presence.
He picked at his lettuce, vehemently stabbing it to death while examining other bits and pieces of his meal. Occasionally, he’d look up and smile at whoever was speaking, attempting to be charming for the sake of the woman he loved. Truth of the matter was, he’d rather be curled up by the fireplace in his home with her in his arms. Naked, their bodies wrapped up together like a bawl of twine, or his head buried between her quaking thighs as he devoured the last of her love. After a bit more time had passed, he followed Milan’s eyes to his number one suspect. He immediately took notice of how her easygoing expression stopped, froze and tightened like an insect suddenly sprayed with RAID.
Oh yeah, that’s that motherfucker…
He gripped his pants, bunching the fabric in a tight fist as he stared at the bastard.
“Hey baby, you want something else to drink?” he whispered in her ear after downing his glass of wine, the perfect excuse for a clean getaway.
“Yes, thank you.” She nodded and smiled at him, then turned back towards her boss who was speaking about all of Darryl’s contributions.
He got up and strolled over to the small bar with both flute glasses in hand, where the pigeon-looking fucker stood with another man, a scrawny guy with flared nostrils large enough to inhale all of Atlanta, laughing it up. They stayed glued to the wine and beer as if the alcohol needed white-collar protection, soft bodyguards. Julian sucked his teeth and handed the bartender both glasses.
“I need two glasses of Toro Loco, please.”
The bartender nodded and prepared them. As Julian waited, he threw on an award-winning smile at Martin.
“Hi!” He nodded, chin checking, as if they were long lost buddies.
The man’s face twisted in obvious confusion.
“…Uh, hello…” Martin grinned at the man standing next to him, as if sharing some sort of inside joke, something said with bountiful humor.
“Something funny? What? I can’t say hi to you, man?” Julian’s smile broadened as he prepared to go in deep.
“Here you are, sir,” said the bartender.
“Thanks, I appreciate it …” Julian took the two wine glasses and placed them down on the table in front of him.
“So yeah, like I was saying…is it a crime to say, ‘hello’?” Julian went on, itching for a fight as he once again faced his opponent.
Say something, jackass…
“No, it’s just, well…” Martin smirked as he eyed him up and down, taking inventory and no doubt making inaccurate assessments, judging him based on his long hair and other physical elements. “I just don’t know you.”
This cocksucker thinks he is really the shit…time to knock him down a notch or two…
“You don’t know me?” He smirked. “No problem! Let me introduce myself, so that we are acquainted, Martin.”
The man’s face drew more stern, no doubt realizing that Julian hadn’t come over to talk about the damn weather or the best golf courses in all of Georgia.
Yeah, it’s not too funny anymore, is it? Why aren’t you smiling you goofy son of a bitch? I don’t see you kee-keeing, now…your friend doesn’t look amused, either…
“My name is Julian Savant. I am the owner of, ‘Soul Inscriptions’.”
“Soul Inscriptions? Never heard of it.” Martin burst out in a bounty of chuckles, feeling pretty cheeky no doubt, needing to keep up appearances in front of his one-man audience. His eyes grew tiny with exaggerated mirth as he rolled to the side a bit, really living it up. Instead of becoming belligerent, Julian nodded and shot him a cool, relaxed grin.
“Yeah? Hmmm, never heard of Soul Inscriptions…that’s cool. Gotta question for you, maybe you’ve heard of this, then… Ever heard of gettin’ your ass kicked, boy?” Julian said calmly, smiling a bit wider, too. “Does that sound like something you’d like to find out about? ‘Cause let me tell you, you are about to know all about it.” He relished in seeing the man’s face melt right before his eyes. Julian scratched the spot between his brows, waiting for the fucker to straighten up, slip up or fuck up. Whatever came first didn’t matter to him, as long as he was going down.
“Yeah, I’m Milan Parker’s fiancé… She’s going to be my wife pretty soon.” He picked up his wine glass and took a casual sip, returned it to the table and crossed his arms. “I don’t like you upsetting her…I don’t like what you’ve been doing.”
Martin’s face reddened and became dewy with a sudden burst of sweat. It was clear as day that the understanding had now been reached.
“What is your problem?” the man blurted, his lips hanging partially opened with a look of frantic perplexity dancing in his eyes. Never the less, the man stood a bit straighter, his chin high, borrowing from his well of pompousness he kept on ice, in his internal reserve.
He didn’t blame the man for trying to save face; after all, he had a spectator. Perhaps the showdown could become a spectator sport…
“You might want to tell your little ass licker here to beat it.” He pointed in the opposite direction in case the tiny bastard needed a map, directions for the exit. “He’s been laughing all night at everything you say, and I’m certain you’re not that damn funny…besides, I’m not in joking mood.”
The man standing next to him got ready to speak, but seemed to think better of it as he caught sight of the tattoo snaking up Julian’s neck and the brass knuckles drawn in thick, black ink across his right hand. This was one time where being perceived as hardcore ‘white trash’ worked in his favor.
“Look man, have you had too much to drink tonight? I don’t know what Milan has told you, but you need to cool it,” Martin barked as he placed one hand on his hip like he was someone to beware of. All that did was tickle Julian, make his stomach roll with delight. “Everyone is just having a good time, alright? Don’t spoil it, go ruining it…sober up.”
“I’m not drunk. I’m sober as your father should have been when he made the likes of you, you whiny, two-faced, lazy, lying ass fuckface!” Julian shot out between clenched teeth. “Yeah, why don’t you fuck with someone your own size, huh? Milan was just trying to do her job and after that guy, your little buddy helping to run the good ol’ boy system told you to cool it,” He pointed toward Garrett, who was still running his big, floppy mouth, causing the people at his table to light up with laughter. “You kept right on. He didn’t want to lose her; he knows deep down you aren’t half the employee she is, so he pulled your ass aside and told you to cut that shit out. He told you to lay off of her, remember? You seem to need a refresher course and lucky for you, I’m an excellent teacher.”
Martin fisted and unfisted his hand by his sides, as if he were thinking about striking.
Oh, you little bitch. I’d love for you to do that. Give it your best shot. I will mop this damn floor with your ass! At least you’d then be useful for a change!
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh…you know. You have some serious problems, Martin, but no one has time for this bullshit.” His eyes hooded. “I don’t know if it is because she’s a woman, because she’s black, or because you know deep down she is better than you that you continue on with this nonsense. She’s your biggest competition and you are so fucking insecure that you have to keep doing this crap, to make her seem smaller than you. I suspect it’s because you know she is about to be promoted as manager, too. You’d be equals and that pisses you off. Too bad! I tell you this much though, I don’t care what the reason is, it stops now.” He pointed towards the floor.
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Martin choked out, fear clearly in his eyes.
“Denial will not help you and you know that I know exactly what I’m talking about. Let’s see here… You started giving her more work after she told Garrett what you’d been doing. You must be madly in love with yourself, Martin, because you keep screwing yourself over nice ‘nd good. I hope you and your other half are quite happy together.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?! My job and what I decide to do with my employees is none of your business. Dating her doesn’t give you the right to act like this.”
“Obviously you’ve never cared about anyone before, Martin. Everything…” Julian stabbed the air with his finger, pointing to the back of Milan, who remained oblivious. “I mean everything regarding that woman right there is my business, so therefore, now you are, too. You’re playin’ with fire.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’ll break it down to you.” He smirked and looked towards the sidekick, whose glasses now slid down his prominent nose. “It’s good you have your little flunky here to be a witness to this.” Julian pointed in his face. “If I hear of you messing with Milan ever again, trying to make her life harder, I will deal with you personally.”
“Are you threatening me?!”
“No, of course not.” Julian smirked then took another sip from his glass and set it back down, just in case he needed his hands free. “I’m guaranteeing you that what I am saying is true. Let me find out one more thing,” he cracked his knuckles. “Let me hear of anything else you’ve done to her, and strange, bizarre, damn right obscenely grotesque things will happen to you.” His eyes narrowed. “Keep fuckin’ with her, and I’ll fuck with you. Got it? I’m sure I am well understood. You couldn’t possibly be as stupid as you look. Now…” Julian scooped up both glasses and grinned, his teeth no doubt gleaming under the bright lights. “You have a good evening, and enjoy yourself, Martin. I know I sure will.” He winked at the motherfucker and made his way back across the room to reclaim his seat. Leaning over, he kissed Milan on the cheek. He knew the man was still looking at him, and that made it all the better.
Martin is a rodeo clown…he can’t fuck with a real bull. This time, he got the horns…
“Hi baby, you missed a really funny story Daryl told. I’ll have to tell you about it later.” She smiled wide as she took a sip from her refreshed glass of wine. “Mmmm, this is even tastier the second time around.” She beamed.
“Indeed it is…Sometimes all it takes is a special touch to make the old taste new again…” He kissed the top of her head, wrapped his arm possessively around her chair, leisurely crossed his ankles and joined in the conversation, easily making everyone at the table fall in love with him by the end of the evening as he shared his shop stories and his love for the beautiful woman on his arm…
Well, all accept one person way behind him, by the bar stuffed in an argyle sweater vest…
‡