What are you going to do with that? I asked, lying
helplessly on my freshly mowed lawn. William glanced
over the front of the cinder block he held over my
head. My jaw ached from where he had just punched
me, which was how I ended up on the ground in the first
place.
The same thing you did with my girlfriend. I'm gonna
bang you up real good, you lowlife bastard.
Now wait, Will. Nothing happened between us. The
brick began an ominous descent, and I threw my hands
up in a feeble effort to shield my face. Through one
half-opened eye I saw that he had not released his
grip.
What do you mean? he growled. You just confessed
the whole thing to me, how you came over when I was
gone and had yourself a real good time with Marcia.
I know, I know, Will. Let me explain. He grunted,
but the brick did not fall. You see, I had to make
you angry, and I knew that was the easiest way. I
never slept with Marcia, man. I wouldn't do that to
you.
You're just trying to save your life now.
No, I swear on my mother's grave.
Then, why? He drew the cinder block close to his
chest so that I could see his face completely.
So I could write a story about it. I spent the next
four days in the hospital.
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