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from it.  It wasn’t a deep cut, but it was deep enough where it needed to be wrapped in bandages.  When we got to the stoplight, Desmon continued to ramble on and on about his broken window.  I calmly asked him to pull over.
                “For what?” he asked and then pulled over.
                I opened the door and got out. I then leaned down, looking at him through the window. “Good game. Next time, though, control your attitude.  It’s liable to cause you a serious loss.”
                He waved me off. “Man, fuck you,” he said, speeding off.
                I walked to the convenience mart again, and picked up a bandage for my arm.  The Arab who worked there became very familiar with my face and gave me a smile this time around. 
                When I got back home, Ginger was in the kitchen cooking dinner.  She had the phone pressed up against her ear, talking to one of her girlfriends.  I sat at the kitchen table and placed my hands behind my head.  She saw the disgruntled look on my face and quickly ended the call.
                “What happened to your arm?” she asked as I’d already started to wrap it.
                “I got cut by a piece of glass that was on the bleachers.”
                She took a seat beside me, observing my arm. “Let me see it.  I’ll wrap it for you.”
                I held my arm up while Ginger wiped the blood off with a towel and wrapped it.  I stared at her and waited for her to ask me how the game went.  She never did.  After she wrapped my arm, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a head of lettuce.
                “Do you want a salad with your baked chicken?”
                “Do you even give a fuck anymore?”
                She slammed the lettuce on the counter and sighed. “Kiley, what do you want from me?  What are you talking about now?”
                Since I refused to argue with her, I got up and went into the living room.  I turned the TV on and plopped down on the couch.  There was no doubt I was disgusted with Ginger, and with myself for what had happened today.  What example had I set for my son?  I’d only been out of prison for two days and already had to drop somebody.  I didn’t know if the nigga was dead or alive, and frankly, didn’t give a damn. Today proved to me that I was a walking time bomb.  So much anger was inside of me and I didn’t know how to get it out, without hurting somebody.  What was I mad at, though?  As I thought more about it, it all flashed back to Desmon.  He had so much control over my mind, and my thoughts, and didn’t even know it.  He could trigger my mind off in a minute by saying or doing the wrong things. Just like Kareem did.  The only way to deal with him was to fuck with his mind as well.  He wanted me to argue with him in the car, but when I got out and told him what a good game he’d had, I’m sure that fucked with him.  Yeah, he was trying hard to push my buttons, and in a matter of time, we were going to see who would win this battle.
     
     
     
     
     

A DIFFERENT KIND OF LOVE
    Chapter Three
               
    Desmon didn’t make it home until almost four-thirty in the morning.  And when he did, he brought company with him.  Within moments after his arrival, I could hear the action from downstairs coming through the vents in the bedroom.
    As I eased out of bed, Ginger lay naked beside me. We’d worked through our previous argument by fucking, and afterwards, she was fast asleep in my arms.
    Making Desmon aware that I was up, I stomped on the floor, flushed the toilet and ran water in the sink.  I then put on my robe and headed downstairs to confront him.  The basement was pitch black, and when I reached to screw in the light at the bottom of the steps, the light came on.  I couldn’t see much, but I could tell the two love birds