Dirty Bastard

A week went by before he finally asked me out. First date, super excited, except I didn't think my mom would go for it. She was still really protective, although I think she liked Christian. I have never been on a date before.

"So, I'll ask her if I can take you out. She can only say yes or no either way. We are spending the day together," Christian, said, sitting on the steps with me, waiting for my mama to get home.

"She just might," I said. She's definitely team, Christian. I still wasn't sure. I was also a little nervous. It had been a whole week since our kissing lessons and he had caught on really quick, like really quick. I was amazed at his skills, and he could now turn me on so fast it was scary. I wasn't ready, mentally to give him my cookie, but all this alone time made me want to. Sometimes I forgot who he claimed to be. He was always so nice and sweet when we were alone. Most days, I didn't see him as a thug.

But I remembered as soon as someone else came around us or we walked to the store, he would put on his "Game Face". I didn't really mind as long as he didn't use it with me.

Mama walked through the door and frowned at us, looking between us both. "What do yawl want?" She asked, hands-on-hips, lips pressed.

Christian cleared his throat and stood up to his full height, which was tall. "I was wondering, well, there is this new movie playing, and I wanted to take Ann to see it. She's been talking about it for like a week. I wanted to get your permission to take her out."

I almost clapped, spoken like a true gentleman, none of that gangster crap. Oh boy.

"Is that so, Anna?" mama asked me.

"Well, yeah," I whispered.

"Okay," she said, stepping around me. "Be home by ten or this will never happen again, and Christian remember, my body, do not touch." She was smiling as she walked up the stairs. For real, that was just too easy.

"Let's go," he said, pulling me up and pulling me toward the exit. My legs didn't seem to want to work. The calmness that my mother had used scared the hell out of me, and I simply couldn't believe it.

"She said we could go, Ann. Come on, before she thinks I'm making you come with me or something." He said, still pulling me.

"That was too easy," I said slowly, working my brain, trying to figure out what my mom was up to.

Christian smiled and pulled me into the crook of his arm. "She's trusting us, or rather, me. I have no intention of breaking that trust or messing it up, so hands off Ann, you know you a little freak."

"Whatever," I said, wrapping my arm around him too. It was a natural reaction. Everything felt natural to him.

We caught the public bus because, well, we didn't have cars and I really enjoyed the ride. St. Louis was beautiful at night, especially downtown. The movie was "Save the last dance", the place was the "St. Louis Union Station." This was one of my favorite malls. I loved it, and I loved how I got him to watch a chick flick.

The movie was great, I shed a few tears and as promised we were on our best behavior. He was being a gentleman today. He bought me a soda, popcorn, and chocolate-covered peanuts. The whole experience felt special. So special. After the movie we walked to the bus stop, holding hands and he bought me a rose from the famous "Rose man." Everything was going so great. Best first date ever. I should have known it was too good to be true.

When we made it to the bus stop, I was a little cold, and he gave me his jacket to keep me warm. Neither of us was speaking, and I suddenly found myself lost in the lights of downtown. The neon purple and green. It was beautiful. There are a lot of buildings and from where I was standing you could easily see the Arch. The view was amazing.

He came closer, and I felt something cold touch my neck. Without looking, I pushed it away. The cold touched my neck again, so I turned to look at him, irritated, and found that it was a gun pressed against my neck. What. The. Fuck. I knocked it away again and walked right up to him and punched him in the face. He let out a howl. Next, I kicked him in the nuts and then the stomach when he dropped low.

"How dare you," I Cried, "What the hell is wrong with you, you twisted little bastard. You want to pull a gun on me? On our first date, you just ruined it. Everything was fine and then you had to ruin it. Where the hell do, they do that at?" I reared back to kick him again and he caught my foot with one hand. I was panting, the adrenaline increased with my anger. I was fucking livid.

"I'm sorry," he groaned. "I was just playing. The safety was on. I would never shoot you. I just thought you would want to see it." He shouted, and he was laughing. He thought it was a joke? The only thing I thought was funny was him, for even pulling something like that.

I liked guns. I had grown up around them. They were no big deal to me. I had two uncles who always had guns on them. They were all over their houses, too. When I was eleven, my uncle had taken me hunting for the first time. My Uncle Bill had taught me to shoot, and my uncle Steve had taught me to hunt. The only time I feared a gun was when I didn't have one, and someone else did. Especially if they were as stupid as Christian.

There was a respect that came with growing up with guns. It wasn't a toy. It could do real damage. Sometimes they were unpredictable, like jamming up or backfiring. One thing I would always remember about guns is you don't pull one on someone unless you plan to use it. I didn't want to shoot Christian, but I needed him to feel me. I picked it up, put it to his head, and asked, "How does that feel. Do you think this is funny?"

Still holding it, I switched the safety off, and he went still. "Be careful Anna," he said.

Which only set me off again. "Are you fucking kidding me? You had this to my neck. You don't play like that Christian, nobody does. I was always taught never to point a gun at someone unless... unless you were going to use it. Did you plan on using it?" I asked. The power I felt was real. Realistically, I knew I didn't want to shoot him. In the back of my mind laid the thought that he might have just tried to kill me. He whiffed his head no. I let out a breath and tucked the pistol in my purse.

"It's mine now. And don't say shit to me on the way home, if you value your life." I said and walked to the next bus stop.

The buses arrived, and I climbed on eagerly and paid my fare. I moved to the very back and sat down to glare at him. Some nosy ass man sat a few seats away from me. He was talking, but I wasn't listening. He looked old enough to be my granddad, his eyes were bloodshot, and I can smell the alcohol on his body.

"Is that your boyfriend?" he asked.

"No?" I spoke. I saw Christian narrow his eyes at me. He did not know what revenge looked like for me. I never broke eye contact while saying no for a second time to the drunk old man when he asked if he could take the seat right next to me.

"Then can I have your number? You sure are cute." He slurred.

"Mister, you are too old for me," I spat, finally looking at him. He walked to the front of the bus, and I whispered "Pervvy bastard."

I noticed Christian snicker from his seat in the front. I glared even harder. That dirty bastard, how could he. He still had it in him to laugh. When all I wanted to do was cry or hurt someone. I looked out the window with blurry vision as my eyes started to leak. First, he ruined my first kiss and then the perfect first date. He was an asshole. For the first time since meeting him, I thought maybe we weren't meant to be. Too many red flags.

I felt guilty for kicking his ass, and happy that I did. He really did not know who I was. He knew now. I was not to be fucked with. I never started shit, but I knew how to finish it. I had never lost a fight. I had never been trained to fight or anything. It's like I was born with it. No matter the odds, I had always somehow come out on top. Even if my opponent was a guy.

At my stop, I left through the back door and dashed to my door. Mama was on the front porch, and I heard her ask me what was wrong, but I kept on going up to my living room to look out my window. My mama wasn't stupid. She would know he had done something to me. I had seen my mom fight before. She was ruthless, she didn't fight. She brawled.

My little brother Charlie's dad raised me for eleven years. That's how long he had beaten the shit out of my mom's. He was controlling, abusive, and manipulative. I had witnessed my mom on over one occasion cover a bruise with makeup. I had seen her smile through the pain.

It would be after years of the abuse that Charlie and I felt we needed to do something. The next time he had put hands on mama, we had rushed him. I was eleven, Charlie was eight. He had a broom, and I had a knife. We and rushed into that room and gave it our best shot, a grown-ass man against two kids. He had easily knocked us down.

That has been the last time though because mama bear came in like a tornado. She fucked him up good. She had asked us to go to our rooms. She had done it nicely, and when we left, it was his pain we heard. Mama had even taken him to the hospital. Where he spun a tale about getting robbed. I imagine it would have been embarrassing to say 'my woman whipped my ass'. After the hospital, she had called her brothers and some nephews to get his shit out of the house.

It had been a big thing. She barbecued, and they all had a great time. I remember just being happy to see her be herself. I knew we would always have the mom we had when he was not around. Since then, my mom had been a beast. She took shit from no one. I imagined her taking Christian to the hospital this time and him saying he had been jumped. The thought made me smile even as my heart skipped a beat.

"What did you do to her?" mama asked him? Her tone was like metal. She placed her hand on his collar, pulling him down to her height.

"She took a joke the wrong way," I heard Christian saying. "I didn't know she would get mad. Can you please tell her I'm sorry and sorry to you for hurting your daughter? I'll make it right, I promise."

Mama said something then, so low I couldn't hear. Then she let him go and he walked on down the street. I wanted to chase him and tell him it was cool, but the fact was it wasn't. It just wasn't cool. My emotions were all over the place.

"What happened, Anna?" Mom said, coming into my room and sitting on the bed.

What could I say? If I told her the truth, she would likely kill that boy and I didn't want that on my conscience, plus against my better judgment, I didn't feel like we were totally over. I had questions. Every fiber of my being wanted to go to him. Even now, I wanted to protect him.

So, I lied. "He elbowed me in the neck, and I got mad." It came out without a second thought. Like that, I knew I was a goner. Sweeping all the red flags under the rug.

Mama let out a breath she had been holding, "Girl don't do me like that, I was fixing to kill that boy and send him to the chop shop." She joked.

I laughed despite my hurt feelings. Mama was the nicest violent person sometimes. She pulled me close, and she gave me her take.

"That's no reason to be so mad honey, I'm sure it was an accident. You have my temper, Anna, and I'm almost sorry you do, but men make mistakes and as women, we are supposed to forgive them for the first few stupid ones. Give him another shot, and I'm sure that bruise on his face didn't get there by itself. Apologize Anna and be real about it. I don't want you beating on your boyfriend." She spoke.

She had a faraway look in her eyes, and I knew she was thinking about those days. I often heard her say she hoped we didn't carry any scars from those days. We had them alright. I had no problem with fighting a man. In most fights I had had with guys, I always hit first. I would try to take his fucking head off his shoulders. Deep down, I knew it was because of Charlie's dad. Somehow, I figured if I hit first, I had a better chance of beating him. It always worked too.

"Okay mama," I said. If she only knew the truth, she would be singing a completely different song. But I will never tell her the truth. I needed her more than she needed to kill him. I went to bed that night dreaming of how the night could have ended. With a gentle kiss and me telling Ciara about the movie. Instead, I was silently licking my wounds and feeling worse about hitting him.

*****

The next morning, I woke up to the phone ringing. It was like a continuous shrill in my brain now. It had been happening for what seemed like forever. I was so irritated. Why wasn't mama answering the phone?

"It's for you Anna," she yelled from somewhere in the house.

"Hello?" I said, eyes still closed.

"I guess you didn't tell your mother what I did since she isn't trying to kill me or curse me out this morning?" he said sadly.

Christian. My heart flipped, flopped, and died. I was still hella mad at him. He was not getting out of this so easily. Even though after sleep I didn't feel as murderous.

"What do you want, punk. I was sleeping." I said I had to dig a little for that anger and it still didn't cover it.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry, and I deserved the ass-kicking. I really would never hurt you, Ann, I straight got feelings for you. I just wanted to show off, and it went horribly wrong," he said.

"You got that right," I whispered.

"I understand if you never want to see me again," He took a breather, "But I need that gun back. It's my brothers and just so you know, he and my aunt got on my neck good last night too, telling me how stupid I was."

"When do you want it?" I asked.

"ASAP, or whenever you can get it to me." He replied.

"I got you."

I hung up and jumped out of bed. I put on my long brown gypsy skirt and my plain white v neck brushed out my hair and grabbed my white flip flops. I grabbed a paper bag and put the pistol in it. As an afterthought, I put my cutter on my hip and walked out of the house.

I decided I was going to stall him out. He obviously would not hurt me, or he could have. He was stronger than me, but I could make him sweat a little. Revenge was what I would need to truly get over this. And time.

I walked calmly up to his steps and knocked on his door. I leaned against the jam, waiting for him to open it. When he did, he looked shocked but quickly recovered, and moved aside to let me in. As soon as I was inside, he grabbed me on tried to kiss me. I pushed him so hard he landed on the couch, but he didn't get up or touch me again.

I laid the gun on the living room table, out of his reach, just in case. Then I turned to him and jumped on his legs, straddling him. He smiled and wrapped his arms around me. It was only when he tried to lean forward to kiss me, he felt my blade in his side.

"What the fuck, Anna. I thought you weren't mad no more." He yelled.

"I'm not mad, but you need to know, Christian, that I don't play like that. Do not ever again in your life point a gun at me. I don't enjoy looking down the barrel of a burner, okay. I'm giving you a pass, don't fuck up again or I will take my time cutting you from your asshole to your appetite. You understand?" I asked.

He nodded his head, his eyes never leaving mine, and then he smiled again. I hated that smile. It was so easy to forget everything when he smiled like that. He took my knife and laid it on the floor and without a word, started to kiss my face. "I missed you," he said, "I thought I fucked it up."

"You almost did," I told him, grasping his face and making him look at me. As much as I'd like to kiss him all day, I had to be sure he understood me. "I like you. I can be violent and vengeful. I don't want to have to hurt you."

He smiled and laughed before pulling me in for another kiss. My heart ached still because I knew he thought it was a joke. A game some girls play. Females often make threats they never plan to carry out. I wasn't that type of girl.