Page 10 of Kisses Behind the Spotlight

Easing down the street, I shot Q and Duke texts to let them know I was headed home. Once that was handled, I put my old-school playlist on shuffle and turned the heat on for the ride. Hopping on 75, the road was clear, and I set cruise control on 85. There was nothing like a late-night interstate drive to clear the mind with old school music playing. Once the car warmed up, I put one hand on the steering wheel and used the other hand to pull my hoody off to get comfortable. A soft ruffling sound cut into Bootsy Collins’s crooning as I shed the hoody. My neck snapped around to check the backseat, praying a nigga didn’t catch me slipping while I was too focused on beefing with Khaleesi’s crazy ass.

Confirming that the back seat was empty, I released the grip I had on my gun. When I turned back around to focus on the road, a green blob flew towards me. Sharp claws tore at my arm and chest before I could react.

“Aaarrrggggghhhhh!” I screamed, smacking the iguana away from me. It slapped up against the passenger door with a loud thud before falling back into the seat. “What the fuck?!” I exhaled as my heart pounded in my chest.

A second green blob flew in my direction as I gathered myself. The second iguana landed on my head, clawing at my face while its black and green tail whipped at me, breaking the skin on my neck. I released the steering wheel, losing control of the truck while prying the second iguana from my face. The first iguana came back with a vengeance, clawing at my chest a second time. I slammed on the brakes to regain control of the truck, but the wet roads were not in my favor.

SKKKKKKKKRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT!

The impact from the truck colliding with something sent the iguanas flying to the passenger side. I didn’t know where they landed, but I hoped they stayed the fuck away from me. The windshield shattered upon impact, sending shards of glass flying throughout the truck. My neck snapped back, slamming my head into the back of the headrest just as the airbag exploded. I felt paralyzed for a few seconds, blinking rapidly as I tried to refocus on my surroundings. The truck was on its side, and we collided with the guardrails. Once my surroundings came back into view, I spotted one of the iguanas scurrying away from the truck as flashing lights approached in the distance.

“Fuck me,” I groaned, then emitted an involuntary cough.

Clicking the button on my seat belt, I released myself and slowly crawled out of the truck through the shattered driver’s window. Thankfully, I could feel all my limbs, and my vision seemed fine after a few fluttered blinks. As soon as I was out of the truck, I collapsed on the frigid, damp pavement. The adrenaline wore off, and I was reminded that Florida was experiencing record low temperatures. I rolled onto my back, staring up into the darkness, my breath drifting above me in little pale clouds. My teeth chattered the longer I lay on the damp ground in the thin long-sleeve shirt.

“Sir, are you alright?” The officer questioned, rushing over to my side where I lay, teeth chattering, but my body was too sore to move.

“I’m good,” I lied.

“The ambulance is two minutes out. What happened?”

“I was attacked by iguanas while I was driving and lost control of the vehicle,” I replied.

“Did you say iguanas?”

“Yeah, I don’t know how they got in my truck, but they did.”

The officer double blinked like he couldn’t believe his ears, and I couldn’t believe I was saying that shit either.

“Sir, have you been drinking?”

“No,” I refuted.

He helped me off the ground, and a few minutes later, the EMTs pulled up to usher me into the back of the truck. They draped a warm blanket over me while administering their concussion test and a few others before clearing me medically. They suggested I go to the hospital, but I declined, asking to clean up the bruises and abrasions from the iguana attack instead. By the time I was done in the back of the ambulance, additional police officers and the Florida Highway Patrol were there to document the accident scene, and I contacted the insurance company to have the truck towed.

It took a few hours to scrape the truck off the road and clear me to leave the scene. The officer clearly didn’t believe my story because he requested a breathalyzer, and I complied because I didn’t have shit to hide and knew they would try to arrest my black ass if I didn’t. Vincent pulled up to grab me, and I instantly relaxed once I was seated in the comfort of the warm Suburban he pulled up in. Slipping into the backseat with Vincent instead of the front seat or driving was different for me. I had been driving and securing Q for the past four years, and almost forgot what the fuck this felt like. Maybe I was pouring myself into work too much.

“So you said some iguanas whooped yo ass and caused the car accident?” Vincent inquired. “Duke, hit the lights,” he requested.

Duke held the light above him for a few seconds, illuminating the interior of the Suburban. Vincent’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned in to examine my face, suspicion written all over his. I hadn’t looked in a mirror, but I could feel the damage. My lip was already fat from Khaleesi attacking me, and I felt a cut on my neck where one of the iguana’s tails whipped me, plus there were countless scratches on my face. I was fucked up.

“That’s what the fuck happened. Ion know how the iguanas got in the truck, but they were in there, and they were mad as shit too,” I detailed as the truck vibrated, rolling over the rumble strips to rejoin the light traffic on the interstate.

“You know the iguanas are freezing up because it’s abnormally cold down here, and I saw the news warning people not to pick them up because they wake up on go,” Duke pointed out, then emitted a low chuckle, snickering at my expense. “Yooooooo…” he blustered, dragging his words like he had an epiphany, looking up at us through the rearview mirror.

“What?” I exploded on that smirking motha fucka.

“Khaleesi did stop out by the cars for a few minutes after she got dropped off at the end of the driveway. She ain’t an enemy, so I didn’t think shit of it at the time,” he shrugged.

At the sound of that, my fists balled up. I had been racking my brain since I saw the first iguana, wondering how the fuck they got in the truck. You couldn’t put shit past that devious motha fucka.

“She tried to kill me,” I said just above a whisper, allowing that reality to settle in.

“Oh, you done met your match,” Vincent monotoned, leaning back in his seat.

“Met my match? She’s the devil! Look at my fuckin’ face, Vincent!” I roared, chest heaving as the reality that she tried to kill me settled in.

Vincent held my gaze for a moment, then emitted a deep, guttural laugh that came from the pit of his soul. “I fuck with Khaleesi. She fucked you up and didn’t even have to do too much. She is strategic with her shit. That get back a motha fucka. You better leave my niece alone before⁠—”