Page 8 of Ruger

"I ain't apologizing for shit! If you had waited a second, I was going to say it, but now I'm not saying shit!" She pushed me.

This was the second woman to put their hands on me today.Did I have a tat on my forehead that said fucking push me?

"Don't put your hands on me, shorty. You can cuss and fuss all the fuck you want, butdon'tput your hands on me."

As if my words went over Kenzi's head, she pushed me harder in my chest as I grabbed her wrists and twisted them behind her back.

"Ah! Let me go, you bastard!" I opened the kitchen drawer and removed the duct tape. I used my teeth, pulled a piece of it, then wrapped it tightly around her wrists.

"Stop it! Somebody help meee!"

I placed a piece over her mouth, walked her into the living room, and tossed her ass on the couch. She started kicking at me, and I sat on her legs, wrapping some tape around her ankles. I stood and looked down at her, quickly pulling the shirt down because the glimpse I got of her fat pussy and ass was more than I could handle right now. It was a shame I had to do this shit, but she had me fucked up. I didn't play about that hitting shit. I'd endured enough of that from my mean ass mama, so when people put their hands on me, I was easily triggered.

"You're doing all this shit when it could have been simple. You don't have manners, but I promise before you leave here, ya ass gon' learn some."

She mumbled a "Fuck you" as she tried to kick me, but I dodged it.

"You really don't give a fuck about your life, do you, Mona Lisa?" I grabbed her face. "I'm not one of these niggas that you play with. Get that shit out ya system. By the time I return, I want an apology and a thank you." I mushed her head before heading upstairs to shower and change clothes. This girl was going to make me put hands on her... in the best and worst way.

It hadto have been hours before I opened my eyes, not realizing that I had fallen asleep. The musky smell invading my nose alerted me that someone was near. When I noticed I could move around freely, I jumped up and fell on the floor.

Okay, jumping out of my sleep was a bad idea.

I lifted from the floor and noticed the tall, sexy, evil man sitting in the window seal. It was now dark as I watched the tip of his blunt glow red while he puffed away. Our eyes locked, and I swallowed. He didn't look happy, but hell, neither was I. I took my time making that good ass salad, and he just tossed it in the garbage. I admit I could have just said thank you, but I didn't like the way he made people do shit as if we were obligated to do ashe said. Ghana told me to be nice, but how could I when he was being a rude asshole?

"You calm now?" he asked. I lifted from the floor and sat on the couch, staring at him.

"I get crazy when I'm hungry. You saw how happy I was making that salad... I even put on a whole concert, and you came in here ruining everything. How did you think I was going to act?"

"Grateful."

I snorted. "Maybe I could have said thank you, but your sarcasm and ugly attitude made me rebel. You're not being very nice, so why should I? Then you tie me up like some kidnapper?—"

"You put your hands on me."

"I wouldn't have put my hands on you if you hadn't dumped my food down the drain."

"I wouldn't have dumped your shit down the drain had you said thank you."

"I would have said thank you if you weren't being a dick."

"Maybe some dick is what you need."

"I wouldn't fuck your rude ass if you were the last nigga on earth."

Through the lighting coming through the window, I could see the mischief in his smile. "Who saidIwould be the one giving it to you? Stop trying to fuck me, Mona."

"Pssh, please. Don't flatter yourself. You think because you're fine, you can fuck anybody with a pussy?"

"I don't fuck just anybody with a pussy... everybody's not worthy."

"You're really an arrogant asshole."

"Contrary to what you believe, I'm probably the nicest nigga you'd ever meet. Only when motherfuckas act out do I matchtheir energy times ten. Don't be on the receiving end of my wrath, Mona Lisa. I'm trying to wave the red flag."

"Why do you keep calling me that? And it's a white flag."

"My flag will always be red." Ruger stared at me. Only this time, I didn't see anger, irritation, or malice. His eyes conveyed what I saw earlier today... admiration.

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