Page 8 of Undefeated

“Ain’t nobody talkin’ to you, slick,” Josh said.

Slowly and methodically, the stranger turned from facing me to facing Josh.

“Well, I was addressing both of you, asshole. But I suppose now I’m speaking to her. Are you alright?” his tone changed from stern to pleasant and soft as he turned from facing Josh to face me again.

He studied my face.

Although his mouth didn’t form one, his eyes smiled. The temperature in the truck rose a hundred degrees. I melted into my seat.

I felt myself getting wet.

Take me with you, please. Save me.

I nodded.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, softly.

“Kace,” Josh said flatly.

Quickly, he turned and looked at Josh. He stared at him for a long second. Josh looked at the ground. The stranger slowly turned back toward me.

I nodded.

The stranger turned to Josh, who was holding the smashed Kindle in his hand.

“Ain’t your business, slick,” Josh said to the stranger as he looked down at the ground.

“Well, as I was getting off my bike, I heard the word whore. I looked up, and then watched you stomping on that,” the stranger said as he pointed to the Kindle.

“And, I suppose as long as you’re done being an asshole, and she’s okay, you’re right. It’s not my business,” the stranger said as he walked around Josh slowly. His walk was unique. He had a certain swagger.

His steel grey eyes never left Josh.

“Well, she was bein’ disrespectful. We got in a pissin’ match. Like I said, ain’t nothin’ to do with you,” Josh said to the stranger as he slowly walked around the truck.

As Josh opened the door to the truck, the stranger leaned onto the Red Box and focused on me. As he waited for us to back up, he put his sunglasses back on. His right hand had tattooed knuckles.

Squeeeeee!

Josh tossed the crushed Kindle at me as he got in the truck.

“What the fuck you lookin’ at? And why the fuck is he starin’ at you?” Josh asked as he started the truck.

As I admired the stranger, I was speechless. I shrugged my shoulders.

“Fuckin’ asshole. I shoulda punched his ass,” Josh snarled as he began to back the truck out of the parking spot.

As he put the truck in gear and started pulling forward, I looked out the window at the stranger and silently mouthed the words…

Help me.

SHANE. Two weeks. That’s all it took. Two fucking weeks.

Come on, shut your mouth. Don’t go there. Please, mister, don’t do it.

I pressed the hoodie to the sides of my face.

Just shut your mouth dude.