Page 7 of Blind Spot
“Hold on, baby girl. I gotcha. Not interested in spending the night behind bars.”
“I feel ya, but don’t get a vehicular homicide charge with me back here either.”
I chuckled. “Baby girl, you wildin’.”
I took a few more turns, and within ten minutes, we were pulling into the lot of Black Diamonds night club. It was one of the most hype places to go on a Friday night, and it was also where Charly was scheduled to be on shift in twenty minutes.
The night lit up with the sound of my teammates and their plus ones rolling into the lot with nothing but music and V-8 engines roaring.
When I climbed out of my 1970 Plymouth Hemi Barracuda 426, I reached back and pulled her out of the car along with me.
“You good?” I asked, checking her out all over.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I think,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes.
Everyone crowded around us and congratulated me again.
“Let’s roll inside,” I declared and threw my arm around Charly as she snuggled into my side.
Everyone followed us inside, and we all grabbed the tables closest to the bar. That way, we could still be close to Charly and chop it up with her during her downtime for her shift that would be starting soon.
Five minutes after we arrived, Chopper strode into the club, scanning the crowd until his eyes landed on us. He walked in my direction and bent down.
“Aye, let me holla at you for a sec, Reap.”
I nodded and set my beer down. “A’ight. Watch my drink, Charly.”
Speed teased me. “Nigga, don’t nobody wanna take advantage of yo’ old ornery ass. These women up in here looking for a real one tonight!” He held his glass bottle up, and the other brothers did the same and laughed at my expense.
I shook my head and glanced at Charly, who wore a worried expression. “You good?” I asked her.
“Yeah,” she replied softly.
“A’ight. Be right back.”
I walked to where Chopper stood a few feet away. “What’s good, G?”
“I’on know. That’s what I’m tryna figure out.”
“Whatcha talking about?”
“You and that shit show back there at the meet-up spot. How you gon’ blow up the set like that, big homie?”
“You heard that shit he was talking. Chrome is always in somebody’s face, doing too much.”
“He is, but you’ve always been good at ignoring his ass and telling everybody else to do the same.”
“It’s time somebody set that nigga straight, Chopper, you know that. And it just happened to be me.”
“But did it have to be?”
“What are you saying, Chop?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
He flared his nostrils and bobbed his head slightly, realizing that he was pissing me off, but I knew his ass didn’t care. Chopper didn’t let things like tempers, attitudes, and flexing cause him a moment of sweat.
“I’m saying that what happened tonight wasn’t you.”
“Felt like all me out there tonight. Felt like I was the one he put his hands on and disrespected.”
