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the entrance, laughinā€™ anā€™ clappinā€™ each other on thā€™ back anā€™ actinā€™ like a bunch of frat boys anā€™ I thought, ā€œI could wipe those smiles off your faces, punks, one right after the other.  Punk you out, one after the other.  All in one night.  All together.  Anā€™ Iā€™d have the time of my life doinā€™ it.ā€

Anā€™ then one of ā€˜em headed right for me.  A big blond buck with perfect teeth anā€™ perfect hair anā€™ still perfect shirt, even after hours of playinā€™ pool anā€™ downinā€™ beers.  He looked like he probably played football in college.  Tight end or half-back or somethinā€™ that called for speed anā€™ agility, but he wasnā€™t keepinā€™ himself up.  He still had broad shoulders, but they couldnā€™t hide the gut he was startinā€™ to get.  But he was wearinā€™ these black jeans that made his ass look inviting.  Anā€™ when he turned away from me anā€™ headed up the side street, I followed him.

I dunno why I did, I have to admit.  Nothinā€™ hit me in thā€™ form of a thought as to what I was gonna do.  I just saw how happy he looked, anā€™ how easy his lifeā€™d been anā€™ how perfect it would be from then on.  So I followed him.  Watched him jaunt towards this three year old Dodge parked halfway between two street lights.  Watched his ass move under those jeans.  Even thā€™ way he walked screamed at me how happy he was, anā€™ I knew I had to kill that walk.

I dug in my pockets for somethinā€™, anythinā€™ I could use for a weapon to make him come with me.  Shit, all I had was a fingernail clipper.  But it had a file, anā€™ the file was sharp.  If I held it right, heā€™d never know.  I mean, if a guy believes you can cut him, you donā€™t really have to be able to, right?

He ā€œbeepedā€ off his alarm anā€™ got to his car anā€™ opened his door anā€™ I was about to make my move when I heard, ā€œHey, Chad!ā€ behind me.  I went cold, but I didnā€™t stop.  Didnā€™t even hesitate.  Just kept walkinā€™ right by him as I heard somebody run up to him anā€™ chatter loudly, ā€œIā€™m cominā€™ with you.  Robā€™s got too much shit in his back seat.ā€

ā€œFuckinā€™ dick,ā€ I heard Chad say.  ā€œWhat you wanna bet his cribā€™s the same way?ā€

ā€œIf it is, Iā€™m gone.ā€

I heard two car doors slam anā€™ thā€™ car roar to life as I kept headinā€™ down the street.  A second later, they zoomed past me, radio blarinā€™ with some second-rate rockerā€™s rendition of ā€œRelaxā€ anā€™ turned left to go back to Sunset.  Anā€™ I dropped to my knees.

I mean, I was shakinā€™ like you wouldnā€™t believe.  Like I was scared.  But I wasnā€™t scared, thatā€™s whatā€™s so freaky about it.  I was pissed off that he got away.  Really fuckinā€™ pissed.  I wanted to chase that fuckinā€™ Dodge down the street anā€™ fuck Chadā€™s fuckinā€™ buddy, Rob, in the ass anā€™ in thā€™ mouth anā€™ rip his fuckinā€™ dick off anā€™ shove it up his ass for helpinā€™ fuckinā€™ Chad get away from me.  I dug my nails into the sidewalk, wishinā€™ it was fuckinā€™ Chadā€™s fuckinā€™ face I was rippinā€™ apart.  I tore my fingers up, good, but it didnā€™t help.  I leaned against the wall of this ratty old buildinā€™ anā€™ sat there, fightinā€™ to shut the anger down, but I couldnā€™t.  I could feel myself drowninā€™ in it, even as I wondered where the hell it came from.

I donā€™t remember standinā€™ up, but suddenly I was half-walkinā€™-half-stumblinā€™ back to Sunset.  I donā€™t remember seeinā€™ a clock, but somehow I knew it was after one.  I heard music -- I remember it beinā€™ like dance.  Like what Iā€™d hear at the raves I went to.  But I donā€™t know what the song was or anything; it just fed the mess in my brain.  I remember there was a bar down the street, some kind of club with a long line of people waitinā€™ to get in.  Anā€™ people laughinā€™ anā€™ chatterinā€™ while they waited.  Couples.  Good-lookinā€™ couples, like there used to be.  Fuckinā€™ happy good-lookinā€™ couples.  Shit, that fed the mess, too.  I wanted tā€™ head on.  Go home tā€™ Connie.  But I felt sick.  My stomach was churninā€™ anā€™ it was all I could do to lean back against that buildinā€™ right at the corner of thā€™ side street anā€™ try to keep from hurlinā€™.

Is that how a lion feels when he loses his kill?  Is that why they roar anā€™ pace anā€™ snarl after theyā€™ve got themselves all primed up for a feast anā€™ then find their fresh meatā€™s been able to skit away to safety?  Not defeated.  Not hungry.  Just fuckinā€™ pissed off.  Am I that much of an animal?

My hands dropped between my legs anā€™ I jolted.  Theyā€™d brushed against my crotch anā€™ I realized for the first time I had a major hard-on.  Iā€™d forgot I wasnā€™t wearinā€™ briefs.  Iā€™d got so used to them, since leavinā€™ Mid-State.  Iā€™d never really liked boxers, except to sleep in.  Always liked briefs when Iā€™m in jeans.  Felt more protected.

Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I almost couldnā€™t breathe, I felt so raw.  IT felt raw.  My dick.  I left my right hand down there anā€™ I let it rock up anā€™ down a little on it, sendinā€™ explosions over my thighs and up my back anā€™ into my mind.  Maybe if I kept doinā€™ that, everythingā€™d be okay.

Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I wanted to go home to Connie.  I wanted to get hold of her and not let go.  I wanted to pretend this whole nightā€™d never happened.  That I never met Wayne anā€™ Lenny.  That I never went to their place anā€™ talked about my life anā€™ made that bet thinkinā€™ itā€™d make

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