Free Brutal by K.S. Adkins Page B

girls are getting roughed up; I should know seeing as I’ve stepped in more than I’d like to. He needed to know, I told him, so we’re square. Now, I need to lean on this dealer Miguel, aka Big Dom (he’s a puny little guy), who’s selling to kids. He’s next on my list, I want to wrap him up before work tonight, but I can’t focus with the thoughts bouncing around in my head. I put in my Skulls, listen to tonight’s set, trying lose myself to the music and the craziness that is my life. But no matter what I do, my thoughts bring me back to the Detective.
    As soon as I feel the air change, I prepare myself for company. Then, someone grips my arm causing my instincts take over. I hit the ground, taking the fucker with me. He tries to hold my arms to my sides, but that just sets me off. I will not be held down ever again. So I roll on top of the guy, secure his arms with my legs on the ditch of his elbows, ensuring that I’m free to choke the fuck out of him before I shoot his ass.
    Red fills my vision; I won’t be satisfied until he stops breathing. Past experience tells me that oxygen deprivation takes approximately 30-45 seconds. I hear my name, I think? But I can’t see his face. This happens when I’m in a snit. I want to stop, but I can’t. I’m missing something important here, but what? I hear my name again. I focus real hard, and then just like that, I’m fighting the urge to hurt. Whoever it is, isn’t fighting back. Why wouldn’t they fight back?
    “Come back to me, Venessa.” The voice is soothing, and when it registers, I’m immediately ashamed.
    I don’t want him to see me like this. I loosen my grip, all the fight leaving me instantly. Get up, Venessa. Walk away, now. Better yet, run as fast as your fucked up legs can carry you. You aren’t fit to be in public.
    “Venessa, enough. Look at me,” he demands, and I have no choice but to comply. When I do look at him, I am so embarrassed. I can see my hand prints around his big beautiful throat. “Keep looking at me. I’m going to let go now, I see you want to run, but don’t. Stay with me” he says, I want to tell him to fuck off.
    No one tells me what to do; no one gets close to me. But I can’t. The truth is, I don’t want to leave. I’ll stay here forever, if he just keeps talking to me.
    “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you and I deserved what I got. Won’t happen again. We’re cool,” he says, and the most ridiculous thing happens.
    I start laughing. I’m laughing so hard, that the more I try to stop, the harder I laugh. I may have even snorted, for Christ sakes. I just choked out my shadow/partner, who I’m still straddling, and I can’t stop laughing. Where’s my gun? When you find it, shoot me with it, kay?
    “I need you to say something Venessa,” he says, and I can’t formulate a thought. My current state of affairs is awkward to say the least. Should I get off of him?
    “I had my Skulls in, so I didn’t hear you. I also don’t like to be surprised up on, or touched,” I blurt out. Whoa. Where the hell did that come from?
    “I know. Max told me. This, right here, is my fault,” he says, and just like that, it’s not as weird anymore.
    “Um, sorry, let me get off of you,” I say, mortified, and also mourning the loss of his lap. I turn to stand, offering a hand to help him up, but he surprises me instead.
    “I was wrong,” he says.
    “About what, exactly?”
    “You,” he says simply.
    “Care to explain?”
    “You can take care of yourself, but you shouldn’t have to. Actually, now you don’t have to, but yeah, you’re ah, impressive,” he stutters. I swear he’s blushing, but that’s probably just the blood coming back to his head.
    “Thanks, but now that we’re in this together we have each other’s backs, yeah? Isn’t that how this partner thing works?”
    “We’ll talk about that later, but you have me now. I’ll have your back”
    “And I’ll have yours. Isn’t that what I just