Cario “Crow” Domingo
Amug shot was exactly what Rebel was aiming for.
There were too many damn eyes on us, all waiting to witness the mayhem and destruction that was about to unfold outside the arena.
The second Rebel looked down at the spit beside her Timbs, I knew the night had just taken a turn for the worse.
Shit, I’d seen that look before. Rebel wasn’t the type to yell or throw a tantrum when she got mad.
She simply got quiet, and that silence was always the warning.
As crazy as it sounded, if she caught a mug shot tonight, it’d probably be the prettiest damn mug shot I’d ever seen.
That woman somehow managed to look fine even when she was seconds away from catching a charge.
I stepped in front of her and gently rested a hand on her shoulder, hoping to bring her back to reality, but one look at the scowl on her face told me I was already too late.
She was gone, lost in that dangerous headspace where consequences didn’t matter.
If I didn’t stop her, somebody was about to get hurt.
“Rain...”
She didn’t even look at me. “Move, Crow.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
Her jaw flexed, but her eyes never left the woman standing behind Shameka. “I’m only gonna ask you one more time.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“Rain... don’t.”
Rebel finally looked at me. For just a second, it was like she was deciding whether I was worth listening to. Then she sighed and shook her head.
“Crow... I love you, but move.”
I could pick her stubborn ass up and carry her to the truck. Or I could get the hell out of her way. Knowing Rebel, the first option would probably get me punched before anybody else. I reached for her wrist anyway.
“Rain.”
Her eyes dropped to my hand before slowly lifting back to mine. “Crow...”
That was it. She didn’t raise her voice or pull away. I knew that tone. Another second, and she’d snatch her hand away herself. I let out a long sigh and released her wrist. There wasn’t no point in getting on bad terms with her over a chick I didn’t even know, so I decided to let her do her thing.
“Don’t make me regret this.”
Without another word, I stepped aside. The crowd collectively held its breath.
Everybody knew something was about to happen.
The second I moved, I already knew how this was gonna end.
True to her name, Rebel rebelled. She closed the distance between them in two long strides and drove her fist straight into the woman’s jaw.
The punch landed clean as the woman stumbled backward, before crashing onto the concrete.
Somebody yelled, “Ohhh, she knocked her ass out!”
Shameka rushed toward Rebel, pleading. “Rebel! Stop!”
Rebel wasn’t hearing shit and pushed my scary-ass baby mama back. I watched her snatch the woman up by the front of her jersey.
“You wanna spit?” she growled. “Spit now.”
The woman swung wildly. But Rebel slipped the punch like she’d done it a thousand times before and drove another shot into her ribs, causing the woman to fold over, gasping for air.
“Security!” somebody yelled.
“Call the police!” another person yelled.
I hurried over and wrapped both arms around Rebel’s waist before she could throw another punch.
“Rain! That’s enough!”
She fought against my grip.
“Nah, Crow! She spit at me!”
“I know!”
“She disrespected me!”
I know!”
“Then let me finish!”
Rebel tried to lunge again, but I tightened my hold.
The woman scrambled backward across the pavement, finally realizing she’d picked the wrong person to provoke.
Around us, the crowd had doubled in size.
Everybody wanted to see the rest of the show.
Then Rebel suddenly stopped fighting me.
She looked past the crowd, and a slow grin spread across her face.
Before I could ask what she was looking at, she elbowed me in the ribs just hard enough to make me loosen my grip so she could slip free.
The next thing I knew, she sprinted toward a black motorcycle parked near the curb.
The owner had been recording the fight on his phone, his keys dangling from his fingers.
Rebel snatched them right out of his hand.
“The hell?!” he yelled.
“I’ll bring it back!” she shouted over her shoulder.
Without breaking stride, she swung a leg over the bike and fired it up. The engine roared to life. Watching her impulsive ass, my eyes damn near bulged out of my head.
“Don’t you take that!” I yelled at Rebel.
Instead of listening, she laughed and revved the throttle. The rear tire chirped against the pavement as she launched the motorcycle forward. The crowd scattered in every direction. Within seconds, Rebel disappeared into the night. The motorcycle owner slowly turned toward me.
“She just stole my bike,” the man said.
I rubbed both hands over my face and let out the longest sigh of my life. “She ain’t stealing it.”
He frowned. “The hell you mean? She is gone.”
I pulled one of my business cards from my wallet and handed it to him. “My shop’s on there.”
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he was confused.
“Come see me tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Knowing her, she’ll probably wash it before she brings it back.”
The man stared at me like I’d lost my damn mind. Who the hell is she?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “My biggest headache.”
It took about an hour, a wad of cash, and the promise of free service at my shop for a year before I convinced him not to call the police on Rebel.
When I finally got home, I was tired as hell.
I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the shower.
As the hot water poured over me, I couldn’t help but think about Rebel, who had once again showed her ass.
Even after all that chaos, I’d still had fun.
Hell, I couldn’t believe I’d kissed her.
Chuckling, I closed my eyes and let the water run over my face, replaying the moment over and over.
Her lips were softer than I’d imagined, and for the first time in years, I found myself wondering what would’ve happened if that damn Kiss Cam had never stopped on us.
I finished my shower, climbed into bed, and shook my head.
That woman was gonna be the death of me.
The Next Morning…
Iwasn’t about to sit around waiting for Rebel to show up at my shop.
Knowing her, she’d probably disappear for a couple of days just to avoid hearing my mouth.
Instead, I drove over to her place to check on her stubborn ass.
After climbing out of my Escalade, I made my way up the walkway and knocked on the front door.
Rebel cracked it open wearing an oversized T-shirt, basketball shorts, and a pair of fuzzy house slippers.
Her locs were pulled into a messy bun, and she looked completely unbothered by the chaos she’d caused the night before.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes before letting out a yawn.
“Morning. You here to fuss...” she asked, leaning against the doorframe, “...or eat breakfast?”
I folded my arms.
“Hell yeah, I’m here to fuss. You stole that man’s motorcycle.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You know I took it to the shop first thing this morning. I even sent you a text.”
“I had to pay that man cash and promise him free service at my shop for a whole damn year.”
She gave me a sheepish grin. “’Preciate you looking out, bestie.”
“You really don’t see the problem, do you?”
“Nah, ‘cause I returned it. I even filled the tank.”
I stared at her. “You’re proud of yourself, ain’t you?”
“Damn right.”
“One day you’re gonna give me a damn heart attack.”
She grinned. “Nah.”
“How you figure?”
“’Cause you’ll be too busy fussing to die.”
“You know... you really ain’t got no damn sense.”
I shook my head and stepped inside her place.
The smell of weed hit me almost immediately.
We settled onto the couch, and she handed me the blunt.
I took a long pull before leaning back, spreading my legs as I got comfortable.
As the smoke drifted toward the ceiling, my eyes wandered around the room and landed on the pictures.
Most of them were of Rebel and Rose, with a few of the three of us mixed in.
A small smile tugged at my lips as I reached over and picked up one of the picture frames from the coffee table.
We couldn’t have been more than thirteen in the picture.
The three of us were standing outside our very first concert, all smiles, wearing oversized jerseys and baggy jeans like we thought we were the coolest kids alive.
I chuckled to myself and carefully set the frame back on the table.
When I looked up, Rebel was already staring at me.
“So...” she said, twisting one of her locs around her finger. “Why’d you kiss me at the game?”
I shrugged. “It was the Kiss Cam. I wasn’t about to let us get booed.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“Nothin’.”
She leaned back on the couch, staring at the television for a few seconds.
“You think it was just ‘cause we were caught up in the moment?”
“I don’t know.”
“Wanna find out?” she asked.
“Find out what?”
“If the kiss was really all that... or if the crowd had us trippin’.”
I chuckled. “You serious?”
She shrugged. “I mean... we’ve done dumber shit.”
She wasn’t lying.
I looked at her for a second before scooting a little closer. “Aight.”
She met me halfway. The second our lips touched, I realized this wasn’t anything like the kiss at the game.
There wasn’t a crowd screaming or a camera pointed at us.
It was just me and her. I tilted my head and kissed her again, a little slower this time.
Before I knew it, my tongue brushed against her lips, silently asking permission.
When she parted them, I slipped inside, and our tongues tangled together in a slow, unhurried rhythm.
A few seconds later, we finally pulled apart.
Neither of us said a damn thing. Finally, I cleared my throat.
“So...”
“So,” she copied me.
“We good?”
She nodded once. “Yeah. We good.”
Then a crooked grin spread across her face.
“Next time, put some ChapStick on, my nigga.”
I laughed. “You telling me? Your shit was rough for a woman.”
She smacked my arm, and we both burst out laughing.
I knew I shouldn’t have kissed her again.
Because once I crossed that line with a woman, there was no going back.
I wasn’t the type to fool around just for the hell of it.
If I kept putting my lips on Rebel, eventually I’d want more.
And if we ever ended up in bed together, that’d be the end of us being just friends.
Neither one of us was ready for that conversation, so we did what we’d always done whenever life got too real.
We laughed it off, turned the TV up, and acted like nothing had happened.