Mother Fuckin’ Billy
by Shannon Barber
The tattoo on the side of her neck reads just “Billy” in floral looking script, there are other tattoos I can see dotting her smooth brown skin. She has a regal profile, aquiline nose, and a jagged pale beige scar that zigzags from her earlobe up through her eyebrow.
God damn it.
I see her cut her eyes at me, then turn her head. Her eyes narrow and she tilts her head up just slightly and I see a dahlia tattooed on the front of her neck. She runs a hand through her silver brush cut and that’s it.
I pick up my beer and walk over. I sit and we look at each other for a long minute before she speaks.
“What you want Negra?”
I can tell by her inflection she isn’t being a bitch so I smile.
Her scarred eyebrow lifts.
Maybe it’s the rye whiskey that makes me think it’s okay, I reach out and stroke the tattoo on her neck with a fingertip.
“Billy. Who’s Billy?”
The way she licks her lips and the corner of her mouth jerks when I touch her makes me smile.
“Billy. Billy is an ex.”
“Like an ex-ex or an ex you still fucks with?”
She leans over, her lips close to my ear.
“The kind that nobody will ever find. He cut me once. Never again.”
I move my body closer to her heat, I turn my face so was almost nose to nose. She holds my gaze while I dip into my cleavage with two fingers and pull out my old pearl handled straight razor. She doesn’t even flinch when I slide it open and touch my lip with it.
“Good. Cause I would cut a mother fucker named Billy. I hate competition.”
The rest of the room is gone. Her breath fogs my blade and her smile flashes a silver tooth at me.
“You wave that around like you’re gonna use it. Don’t make promises your ass can’t cash Negra.”
I turn away and shotgun the last of my drink before I put my blade away.
“Finish your drink and don’t start talking shit. You remember what happened last time.”
Last time was five years ago and she had walked away with the impression of my teeth in the meat of her left butt cheek. We both stand and she grabs my hips and pulls me in tight to her body. She’s softer than I remember, less hard won muscle and more cushion atop brute strength.
She kisses me so lightly and gently my knees almost give out and she holds me up with her hands cupped under my ass. Five years upstate and she still remembers my body.
“I missed you Negra. Now stop talking shit and take me home.”
I rub my nose against the tattoo.
“Mother fuckin’ Billy.”
She starts to laugh and around us, our old friends hoot and clap while she murmurs in my ear.
“Mother. Fucking. Billy.”
PS..this week brought to you by the one word prompt “Billy” that I stole from someone else.