Meeting the Step Read Free Page B

I would stand by that. I never called them.
    Glory finished dressing and I dropped her off at her car at The Bay. She leaned in and kissed me like we were lovers then whispered, "call me, Max."
    I watched her sashay to her car and when she got in, I rubbed my hand over the gearshift and realized that it smelled like pussy. I'd leave it there just as a reminder of the woman I was balls deep in just moments ago.
     

 
    Chapter Four
    Max
     
    THERE WAS NO way I could roll home unannounced. The muffler to the car was like a siren telling the whole neighborhood that Max had returned. I might as well roll down the window and wave to everyone. I parked the Mustang on the street where Dad had put it earlier. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. Silence and satisfaction, finally. Today had been jammed full of bullshit.
    I leaned my head over and looked at the house I had grown up in and reminisced about my childhood. Very little had changed other than the landscaping. The color was the same light blue it had always been and the shutters a cream white. It was the typical suburban Californian home on the coast. The neighbor's houses were only inches apart and the lawns almost identical. I glanced over at the purple truck and BMW that sat in the driveway. Dad's convertible was in the garage along with the Honda he drove back and forth to work.
    When I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw a lifted truck with big mud tires zooming down the street with high beams blazing and music blasting. I flicked the tab on the bottom of the rearview mirror so I wouldn't be completely blinded. The truck's deep engine revved when it pulled into my driveway and black diesel smoke filled the streets.
    What the actual fuck?
    The music was loud and the bass was pumping. The lights reflected against the white garage doors and shot beams of annoyance through the neighborhood. Whoever was driving killed the engine.
    Silence had returned, but it was short-lived because the sound of people yelling at one another filled my ears. I placed my hand over the headrest of the passenger seat and tried to see what was going on inside of the truck. When I saw movement inside, my heart immediately started racing.
    A door slammed and that was when I spotted the infamous Chelsea. She moved in front of the truck flipping off the driver with both of her hands in the air. He started the engine and rolled down the window. "You're a fucking bitch," he screamed.
    She moved quickly to the driver's side window and the man jumped out of his truck. He totally had little man syndrome. I wanted to laugh seeing he stood eye to eye with her, but he was stronger, and intimidating with his broad shoulders and muscles. Quickly he grabbed her by her wrists and forced her back against the truck. She spit in his face and he wiped it off and laughed, holding her tightly against her will.
    I couldn't watch the scene any longer. I opened the door to the Mustang and walked across the grass toward them. I was inches taller and stronger, minus the beer gut. I actually took care of myself and by the look of him, he cared about nothing but drinking.
    "Hey," I yelled over the pounding music.
    The man turned around still with Chelsea tight in his grip.
    "What the fuck you looking at, bud?" His nostrils flared. I could smell the alcohol permeating from them both.
    "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I asked using the same tone.
    He stared at me.
    "Let her go." I was calm, but my anger level was quickly rising and hit a dangerous place when he laughed at me. But I continued forward, rolling up my sleeves.
    "Fuck you," he said. "Make me."
    So I did.
    I walked toward him calmly cracking my knuckles. He let her go and smiled like he loved trouble then raised his fists for the fight. With a clumsy wobble, he swung and missed, then I punched him square in the nose with a right hook that I had been perfecting for years. He stumbled back against the truck, unstable in his stance.
    "Now get the fuck