Kurt let the phone ring out. He couldn’t deal with “One” right now. Hell, he could barely deal with himself.
His hip was throbbing where Keisha’s car had clipped him, his face was stinging from where Stacy had slapped his soul out of him with her slipper, and his pride?
He limped over to his truck, every step made his face cringe. He managed to get the tailgate open and pulled himself into the back cab bed, laying down across it like he’d just been in a street fight.
He closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the pain. He was thinking if he just played there for a while that was a bad dream a nightmare that he would wake up from.
Maybe—
Nah. The pain was real.
Twenty minutes later, he heard another car pull into the parking lot. He didn’t even bother looking up.
He was done.
Whoever it was could finish him off for all he cared.
Then he heard the door slam. Footsteps.
Getting closer.
One: “Kurt?”
His eyes opened wide.
Kurt: Shit!
One: Kurt, were you at? I see your truck!”
It was One.
He tried to sit up, but his body wasn’t having it. He groaned, slumping back down.
The footsteps got louder, closer, until they stopped right outside the truck.
One: “Baby, what the hell—”
The back door swung open, and there she was. One—real name Amara, but he had been calling her One because she the number one woman in his life since they started messing around a year ago.
She was light-skinned, petite, with long black box braids and a temper that could go from zero to a hundred real quick.
She looked at him, and her mouth dropped open.
Amara: “What the fuck happened to you?!”
Kurt tried to play it off, even though he looked like he just got his ass kicked.
Kurt: “I’m good, baby. Just… had a rough night.”
She leaned over and looked at him laying in bed of the truck and seen him holding his hip and the red marks on his neck and face.
Amara: “A rough night? Kurt, you look like you got your ass beat! And who the hell was that bitch on the phone earlier?”
Kurt swallowed hard. His throat was dry.
Kurt: “That? That was just… the hotel housekeeper.”
Amara’s face twisted up.
Amara: “The housekeeper?”
Kurt: “Yeah, I came here to check their AC unit. You know I was referred by a reliable person who knows I been doing HVAC work on the side. They… they didn’t wanna pay me.”
Amara stared at him for a long, hard second.
Amara: “So they kicked your ass because they didn’t want to pay you?”
Kurt: “Yeah.”
She crossed her arms, her head tilting to the side.
Amara: “Kurt.”
Nick: “What?”
Amara: “Im about to beat your ass too because I don’t believe you.”
Kurt tried to sit up again, wincing.
Kurt: “Baby, I’m telling you the truth—”
Amara: “The truth?” Boy, you must think I’m stupid. The housekeeper answered your phone and said she was your girlfriend. What kind of housekeeper—”
Kurt cut in, talking fast now. “
Kurt: “She was mad, She was mad I wouldn’t pay her under the table or some shit. You know how people get. She was trying to mess with me, so she said that crazy shit when you called.”
Amara just looked at him. Her jaw was tight, her eyes narrowed. She wasn’t buying it, but she wasn’t calling him out yet either.
Amara: “And the scratches? The bruises? I guess that’s from the housekeeper too?”
Kurt: “Her and her… cousin or whoever, they jumped me in the parking lot when I tried to leave. That’s why I’m back here. I couldn’t even drive.”
Amara stood there, silent, just staring at him like she was trying to decide if she should believe him or drag him out the truck herself.
Finally, she stood there and shook her head.
Amara: “You know what, Kurt? You lucky I love your dumb ass, because this story sounds like straight bullshit.”
Kurt let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Kurt: “I swear, baby, that’s what happened.”
Amara pulled out her phone.
Amara: “A’ight. Well, if that’s what happened, we calling the police.”
To Be Continued……