Cario “Crow” Domingo #2
Without another glance, I turned and walked away.
My boots echoed across the concrete as I headed back toward my office, leaving Nico on the floor to think about every stupid word that had come out of his mouth.
As I passed the front desk, my eyes landed on my receptionist. She was sitting there wide-eyed, phone still clutched in her hand.
Judging by the guilty look on her face, I already knew she’d called Rebel the second the argument started.
The reason why is because she and I use to have a sexual relationship, and she assumed I called it off because of my friendship with Rebel.
I pointed at her. You.”
She immediately sat up straighter. “Yes.”
“Come here,” I demanded.
“C-Crow, I was just—“
“Now.”
She swallowed hard and quickly stood from her chair. The second I stepped through the doorway, I held it open and motioned for her to come inside so I could discuss her playing games.
After chewing my receptionist out for calling Rebel, I finished the rest of the workday in a foul mood.
Nico eventually left, my mechanics got back to work, and the shop slowly returned to normal.
By the time I was locked up for the night, all I wanted was peace and quiet.
Between the police, Nico, and the bullshit at the shop, I was beyond irritated.
All I wanted was a shower, some food, and for everybody to leave me the hell alone.
The second I stepped inside my house, something felt off.
Maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was the fact that the kitchen light was on when I knew damn well I’d turned it off before leaving that morning.
I slowly set my keys on the coffee table in the living room.
“If somebody in my house, you got about five seconds to show yourself.”
It was nothing but silence. Then a laugh echoed through the house.
I already knew who it was. Shaking my head, I followed the sound into the kitchen.
Sure enough, Rebel was sitting at my table with one Timberland boot propped on the chair across from her while she drank a bottle of water she’d taken from my refrigerator.
“How the fuck did you get in here?”
“The spare key you keep in the fake flowerpot outside.”
I stared at her. “You still using my damn key?”
“You told me years ago to keep it in case of an emergency.”
“I also told you not to abuse the privilege.”
She shrugged without an ounce of shame.
“Today’s an emergency.”
“No, the fuck it ain’t.”
“It is for me.”
I sighed and rubbed a hand over my face.
“One day I’m changing these locks.”
“You’ve been saying that for ten years.”
“And one day I’m gonna mean it.”
She laughed. “No, you ain’t.”
The fucked-up part was she was right. Rebel had been letting herself into my house for so damn long, I couldn’t even remember when it started.
Somewhere over the years she’d stopped knocking, and somehow my house had become her house too.
Hell, half the time she’d walk in, raid my refrigerator, and make herself comfortable before I even realized she was there.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t gonna give her shit for it.
I pointed at her. “You know most normal people knock before they come inside somebody else’s house.”
She popped another piece of beef jerky into her mouth. “And most normal people don’t keep a spare key outside.”
“That key ain’t for your ass.”
“Yet here I am.”
“You impossible.”
“So, I’ve been told.”
I shook my head. “What the fuck do you want, Rainl?”
She took another sip of my bottled water like she paid the damn mortgage.
“Damn, Crow. I thought we were cool. You ain’t even gonna offer me a snack? What’s with all this negative energy?”
“The fuck you mean what’s it about?” I snapped. “You shot up my cousin’s car in my damn parking lot. The police had my shop tied up for hours asking questions. My mechanics couldn’t work, customers were staring, and half the neighborhood got a front-row seat to your damn meltdown.”
Rebel leaned back in the kitchen chair without a care in the world. “I missed him, didn’t I?”
“That ain’t the point.”
“Alright,” she said, holding up both hands. “I ain’t mean to cut a fool.”
“Oh, really?”
I gave her a look, and she held it for about two seconds before laughing.
“Aight... maybe I meant to cut a little fool.”
“A little?”
“Fine.” She grinned. “A medium-sized fool.”
I just shook my head.
“Listen,” she said. “I brought a peace offering.”
Before I could ask what the hell she was talking about, she reached into her leather jacket and tossed a bag of beef jerky onto my kitchen table. I looked at the bag. Then I looked at her.
“You know I hate this nasty shit.”
“I know.”
“So your peace offering is something only you eat?”
She smiled.
“I figured I’d eat it while you forgave me.”
“Get the fuck out.”
She laughed so hard she almost choked.
“See? You smiling already.”
“I am not smiling.”
“The corners of your mouth say otherwise.”
“That’s gas.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“Crazy thing is,” I joked, grabbing my crotch, “you don’t want to try some real beef.”
Her eyes immediately dropped before she rolled them.
“There you go with your bullshit.”
“What?”
“Every damn conversation somehow ends with you talking about your little dick.”
I barked out a laugh.
“Ain’t nothing about me little. That’s why my baby mama couldn’t leave my ass alone.”
“I’m serious. You over here trying to sell me bargain-bin meat.”
“It ain’t bargain-bin.”
She looked me up and down with her nose scrunched. “Nah... I’m good.”
“See, that’s your problem.”
“My problem?”
“Yeah.”
“What now?”
“You keep dressing like you about to kick somebody’s front door in.”
She looked down at herself. “The fuck that got to do with anything?”
“You wear baggy clothes, combat boots, ride motorcycles, own more guns than most niggas I know, and barely give men the time of day.”
“So?” She was offended.
“So folks swear you gay.”
She laughed so hard she nearly dropped her beef jerky.
“Boy, ain’t nobody thinking that.”
“The hell they ain’t.”
“They know I like men.”
“I know you like men.”
“I’ve always liked men.”
“I know,” I laughed. “I’m just saying, if somebody didn’t know you, they’d probably think otherwise.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why? Because I don’t like wearing tight ass clothes. They need to mind their damn business.”
“I agree.”
“Besides,” she smirked, “I ain’t changing the way I dress for nobody.”
“I know you ain’t.”
“And if a man can’t handle a woman in combat boots, he ain’t the man for me anyway.”
I pointed at her.
“Now that... I actually agree with.”
She grinned. “Damn. Mark this day on the calendar.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
For the first time all damn day, I found myself laughing.
Rebel was a menace. She knew damn well she wasn’t fooling nobody.
Hell, she’d been dressing like that since we were teenagers, and she’d still had plenty of men chasing after her.
She just never seemed interested in keeping one around.
I stood and pointed another finger at her.
“Don’t touch nothing while I shower.”
“You say that every time I come over.”
“And every time I come back, something missing.”
“That’s a lie.”
“You stole my favorite hoodie.”
“I borrowed it.”
“Three years ago.”
She flashed me a shameless grin.
“Semantics.”
I shook my head and headed toward the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, I came back downstairs wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of sweats. Rebel was exactly where I left her. Only now she had her boots kicked off and was halfway through another bottle of water.
“Comfortable?” I asked.
“Very.”
“Good to know breaking into people’s houses relaxing for you.”
She flipped me off, and I grinned. Something about seeing her sitting there made the house feel less empty. I hated admitting that. Especially after the day I’d had because of her ass.
“Dominoes?” she asked.
“You trying to lose some more money?”
Rebel laughed. “Crow, please. The only thing you beat is your chest.”
I grabbed the domino box from the shelf and dropped it on the table. “Keep talking.”
She rubbed her hands together. “That’s my favorite hobby.”
We started setting up the pieces. For a few minutes, neither of us said much. It wasn’t awkward. Never had been. Me and Rebel had known each other for so long that silence didn’t need to be filled. When she looked up and saw me staring, she frowned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Then, why are you staring?
I raised an eyebrow. “Naw, I wasn’t staring.”
“You definitely was.”
I smirked. “Nah. I was trying to figure out how somebody can shoot up a car at noon and be playing dominoes by dinner.”
A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Talent.”
“More like insanity.”
“Tomato. Tomahto.”
I laughed and shook my head. Yeah, Rebel was absolutely crazy.
The problem was I couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t sitting somewhere in the background of my life causing trouble.
Since neither one of us felt like calling it a night just yet, we threw on some old-school R&B, kicked back on the couch, and let the music fill the room.
I unscrewed the cap off the bottle of bourbon, took a long sip, then handed it to Rebel.
Without saying a word, she tipped the bottle back and took it to the head like it was water. I couldn’t help but laugh. Sometimes I forget she was only five-foot-six because she damn sure drank like one of the fellas.