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Black man finally admits his feelings to white woman.

He spoke carefully, "Get in your fancy car and get the fuck out before I fuck you up right here on the street."

"You have no comprehension of how I handle my business, Carlos." She knew where her twins were without looking, hearing them come up quickly, heels clicking.

Before he could unleash another epithet-laden sentence, he was lifted from his feet by a hand like an iron claw around his neck. He experienced momentary weightlessness before the wind nearly left his body after crashing into the weathered concrete wall of the store. "What the fuck?" The shock came out as a strained gurgle that could barely be heard over the shock of his lackeys and Lisa and Kayley trying desperately to diffuse the situation.

Even with both hands on her forearm, Carlos could budge the woman not an inch. Her gray eyes weren't dead, really, they were looking through him and beyond him as though she just wasn't...completely in the moment.

While Staci held Carlos, Traci put a fist into the face of one of Carlos's friends, a soul who looked like he had pretty consistently lived from the food trucks. He fell to the ground in a heap, while the other, a bronze-skinned man who spent an equal amount of time at the gym looked on in shock at how quickly his friend was on the ground and gone to the world. In a rush, he reached into his black and red football team jacket, but froze when he heard matter-of-factly, "Touch that gun and I will crush both your wrists. You will never use your hands normally again."

He froze. It wasn't a simple threat to beat the shit out of him or kill him. The specificity of it chilled him, like she'd already settled on the how and what the result would be. And then there were the eyes. He'd seen eyes like that with people who literally didn't care if others lived or died. What she said would happen would happen or he'd be dead and she simply didn't care either way. He held his hands up, "Relax, baby. I barely know the dude."

Traci did not act, but she didn't relax even slightly.

Lisa and Kayley were now off to the side watching, stunned into silence at what the scene had become. Kayley looked at Samuels' demeanor. She was relaxed, as though she knew that this would be the precise outcome from the moment she made the decision to get out of her car. She was fearless.

"Let me down you crazy bi...," he began before trailing off, realizing it might be best not to piss either of them off. "Let me down."

Samuels came up to him, looking up at him, yet down upon him. "Now that we've gotten past the bluster and you seem to be more willing to listen, let me say that your girls were paid well. I dare say better than what they probably usually make, so that wasn't the problem."

"The problem, as I see it, is you, Carlos. You're so obsessed with every nickel and dime so that you maintain your," she gave his clothes a look as though they stank, "lifestyle, you don't care that your associates don't have all the tools they need or even that you want them to have. If Tiffany works for you, and you need her phone to work, and you take most, if not all of her money, whose fault is it that you can't reach her?"

He clawed at the arm again, it finally registering that the woman holding him up should have at least looked like she was getting sick of holding him up, but she looked like she could hold him like this all night while the woman looked at him with the amusement a sadist might have after ripping the wings off a fly. "It's mine."

"I'm sorry, Carlos, I didn't catch that?"

He tried to raise his voice, and succeeded mostly in scraping his throat, "It's my fault."

"And when we transgress upon others like you have, what do we say in an effort to make amends?"

"I'm sorry." The words came out angry even as hushed as they sounded.

"Mean it."

His fingers were tingling from the lack of air, so he tried again with a little more whine. "I'm sorry."

Samuel's grinned.

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