terms that I can go fuck myself, my mother, and my neighbor’s dog.
I’m gonna go ahead and assume he won’t be there when I get back.
My phone dings in my pocket, so I pull it out and glance at the screen. Swiping to accept the call, I bring it up to my ear. “Soph?”
“Hey. I see you. Why’d you stop driving so far back?”
“I wanted to walk and see the street for myself. You sure this is the one? It’s rough as fuck.” And knowing that, knowing this is where Cam lives makes my heart ache.
“It’s where she was when she took your call. She could have been working, or at a deli, or walking by when she called, but I feel like maybe she was home. How else would she be watching the news when she saw you?”
“This place is the fuckin’ ghetto, Soph. It’s not safe.”
“Better watch your back, then, fighter. Her phone is switched off, so I don’t see her on my map. But I see you. You’re a block away. She’ll be on your left.”
“And I’m supposed to just…” I look into the darkness ahead. “Knock?”
“It’s what most folks would do when standing at a door.” She’s mocking me, smiling through her words. “Perhaps practice your side step, because it’s been four years, and she sounds kinda mad still.”
“You’re not helping, you know?” I grunt and step off the curb, cross the street, and step back up. “My shoulder is fuckin’ singing, Soph.”
“Probably shoulda listened to your doctor, then, huh? Is it in a sling?”
“No. Slings draw attention.”
She snorts. “I can’t fault your logic, but you’re effectively forfeiting the tournament this year if you don’t rest it. You can’t fight like that.”
I make the ‘eh’ sound in the back of my throat. “I don’t care about the tournament. How far away am I?”
“Fifty feet on your left. Satellite images show a broken dish on top, windows with riot bars, and a stained, dogshit brown door. Three locks on the front.”
“Riot bars,” I sigh, “three locks, and dogshit brown. Perfect.”
“You want me to stay on the phone when you knock? I’m kinda invested, so I wanna know how it turns out.”
“Um…” I lock eyes with the brown door, the triple locks, and frown. “Nah. Let me knock, I’m gonna need all my senses before she maims me. But I’ll call you when it’s done.”
“I’ve got you on satellite anyway. If you go in, but don’t come out, I’ll assume she killed you and baked you into a pie.”
“That’s probably not outside the realm of possibility.” I lower my head and chuckle. “She’s got an attitude on her.”
“My favorite kinda chick. Good luck, Lothario. I’ll see you on the other side.”
“Do a little digging for me while I’m gone, okay? I’d lay good money down on the fact she has a dance studio nearby. Find it for me.”
“Is that an order?” she cuts in like a knife. “Or is there a pretty please coming soon?”
“Pretty please, Soph?” I slow my steps just twenty feet from the door. “You’d be doing me a huge favor.”
“Aw shit, and you’re so cute too,” she bullshits. “I’ll take a look while you’re busy with your girl. If she invites you in and it’s all good, send me a text to say you’re all good. Otherwise I won’t be able to tell if you’re fucking, or baking.”
“Yeah. I don’t see myself fucking tonight.” And yet, my cock grows inside my jeans. It’s been a long time, and Cam is so fucking beautiful. She’s the only woman on the planet who has made my heart beat the way it does when she’s around. “I’ll text you. Thanks for your help, Soph.”
“I’ve got you, handsome. Good luck.”
We hang up, I slide my phone into my pocket, and before stepping up the three concrete stairs leading to the door I suspect is Cam’s home, I dig my hands into my pockets and glance along the street. It’s nine at night – late for some, and early for others. Joe cooks his hotdogs just a block down, but he has no customers. There are kids hanging out at the next corner, they’re doing deals that cops would frown upon, but I’m not making it my concern tonight. A few cars drive by, more than we would get in a residential street back home, but not all that many considering the population of this city.
When I deem the street sort of safe, or at least, no one here