ABBIE
I sat in my living room waiting. Waiting for that familiar sound of engines revving. I knew they'd be back and that my little show last night hadn't done a damn thing to dissuade them. Assholes. My hope was that, maybe, the cops scared them away from hanging out in my parking lot. I knew it was a silly hope and one not likely to be fulfilled. I knew they'd be back as sure as I knew my own name.
At least one of them would be back, anyway. My hope was that he wouldn't bring his whole group of thugs with him. But I knew he was coming. I had something of his, something worth a lot of money. And something I was sure he desperately wanted back. As I looked at the bag sitting on my coffee table, I knew it was something he'd be back for. There was no two ways about it. The question was when would he be coming for it?
My eyes were drifting shut as I sat on my couch, waiting for him to show up. I looked at the clock and saw it was just after eight. It wasn't that late yet, but I was exhausted. Running on little to no sleep for days at a time would do that to a person. And it was because of those assholes that I was in this seemingly perpetual zombified state.
I'd nearly dozed off in front of the TV when I heard that familiar and oh-so-annoying sound. Immediately, my heart began to race – but not with fear. With anger. Lots and lots of anger.
I stopped to listen and was surprised by what I heard. A motorcycle had pulled into the parking lot – just one motorcycle, though. I was surprised he hadn't brought his goons to back him up. Part of me wondered if maybe it wasn't him after all. But when the sound of the bike stopped, I knew he was here for me.
Getting up off the couch, I went over to my window and looked outside. Unsurprisingly, I saw the blonde haired leader of that group of assholes climbing off of his bike. I grabbed his bag of shit, raced out my door, and flew down the stairs. I'd just made it out the front gate of the complex when I saw him about to ring my buzzer.
He shook his head and his scraggly blonde hair covered his face for a moment. But with one sweeping gesture, he pushed all of it back, showing me those deep, blue eyes. He obviously hadn't shaved in a few days – at least – so a little scruff covered much of his face. But underneath it all, you could still see his chiseled features, plain as day. And that body – clad in tight black jeans, a black t-shirt that clung to his chest, and a leather jacket – nearly made me stop in my tracks. But I wasn't about to let myself get caught up in his good looks. Oh, hell no. I was pissed and had every right to be. I was going to make sure he didn't leave my complex without a very large, very irate piece of my mind. He turned those blue eyes on me and smiled. And I stopped.
Goddamn him. That cocky, arrogant smile made my blood boil and made me want to hit him with something. He hadn't said but a handful of words to me so far in all the time I'd been fighting with them. So when he merely held out his hand as if he'd expected I'd just hand over the goods like a good little girl, I wasn't entirely surprised. He was such a smug, arrogant prick. But he wouldn't be getting off that easy. If he thought that, he had another thing coming. He'd put me at risk. He'd planted drugs on me without my consent. Hell, he'd planted drugs on me without my knowledge! Not to mention all of the goddamn trouble he'd caused me and my neighbors by hanging out in our parking lot, being loud and obnoxious, night after night with his gang of unruly friends.
Nope, I wasn't about to let him get off that easily. Who did he think he was?
“Excuse me, but I think you have some explaining to do,” I said sharply. I kept the bag firmly in my hand – which I held behind my back, trying my best to hide it so it didn't look like I was involved in a drug deal.
A deep, manly laugh escaped his throat – which only served to make me even angrier than I already was. After all that he'd done, after all the trouble he'd caused, and the risk he'd exposed me to – he was going to laugh at me? Really?
“I don't see what's so funny about all this,” I said, my jaw set, standing my ground.
He might be twice my height and triple my weight – he was after all, a big brute of a man – but there was no way I was going to let that intimidate me. Men like him were used to pushing people around, getting their way because they scared people. But I wasn't about to back down. I wasn't about to be afraid. I was going to show him that I wasn't some pushover or somebody he could easily dismiss. I was going to speak my mind and show him that I wasn't going to be intimidated by him.
“You're funny, Abbie. You've got some spunk, that's for sure,” he said at last, his voice coming out deep, but somewhat softer than I'd expected it to. It was almost gentle – which seemed somewhat at odds with his physical appearance.
“How do you know my name?” I asked. I tried to think back to last night and the only thing I could remember was telling the cop. “Never mind. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're an arrogant asshole. You're rude. Condescending. And I haven't had a good night's sleep in I don't know how long because you and your troglodyte friends make it impossible to get any sleep. It's bullshit!”
“I'm King,” he said, reaching out his hand again as if to shake mine, but I wasn't about to fall for that.
He still wanted me to hand over the goods and was trying to bait me with his polite act. But I wasn't going to fall for it. Wasn't going to happen. No way, no how. He wasn't getting his shit until he heard me out and made certain promises to me. Eventually, as I stared at his hand like a coiled serpent and refused to touch it, he dropped his hand and shook his head. What I wouldn't give to hear his thoughts in that moment.
“For someone so desperate to get back what I have, you sure seem to be having a helluva time there, King,” I said, shaking the bag in front of me, letting him see that, yes, I, indeed, had what he wanted.
I looked him in the eye and planted my feet firmly to the ground. I was letting him know that if he wanted it back, at the very least, he was going to have to apologize. Not only that, but he was going to have to give me his word that he and his band of hooligans were never going to come around and bother me and my neighbors ever again.
“I'm never desperate,” he said, narrowing his gaze on me, causing my skin to flush. There was something in his eyes that said he wasn't talking about the bag full of drugs I was waving around in front of him. “But I would appreciate it if you handed over what's rightfully mine. I really don't want things to get unpleasant.”
“Don't you dare threaten me, you fucking cretin. And what are you talking about? What's rightfully yours?” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Unbelievable. You slipped this into my bag without my consent and now you're acting like I stole something from you.”
“Look,” he said. “I just want to – ”
“I don't give a shit what you want,” I hissed. “You're not in control here. I am. You are going to apologize to me and then you are going to give me your word that you and your asshole buddies are never going to darken my doorstep again.”
“Yeah, that's not going to – ”
“Listen here, asshole,” I snapped, cutting him off again, “you may be king of your band of assholes, but you're not king of the world. So fuck off already. And since possession is nine-tenths of the law, it looks like this bag of shit is mine to do with as I wish. In fact, I may go back upstairs and just flush this all down the toilet. What would you think about that, King Asshole?”
His eyes narrowed and I saw anger flash through them. He took a step toward me and without thinking about it, I turned and as hard as I could, I threw the bag over the chain link fence that was off to my right. It felt so good to throw it; it was almost cathartic. And I was proud of myself for my act of defiance. There was no way in hell I was letting that prick push me around.
I'd been so caught up in my little triumph that I wasn't even paying attention to where the bag landed until I heard the splash and saw the look in King's eyes. Turning, I saw the black baggie sink to the bottom of the apartment swimming pool. Fear flashed through me for a moment, but a current of righteous anger and indignation replaced it.
“Serves you right, dickhead,” I said, giving him the finger. “Go get what's rightfully yours now.”
I turned on my heels and marched back up the stairs to my apartment. The entire time, I felt his eyes on me, burning through me. Was he angry? Not that I cared, but I had to wonder. Any sane man would want to kill me right about now, but King seemed sort of amused by me. At least on the outside, he remained as calm and unflappable as ever. Before I'd walked away, I'd even seen that goddamn infuriating smile on his face. I walked into my apartment and slammed my door for good measure.
“Serves him right,” I muttered again, beaming with pride at what I'd just done. “Try to pull one over on me, you'll get what's coming to you. I showed that arrogant asshole that I'm not going to be pushed around.”