“You don’t touch me unless I give permission,” Brazil told her in a tone that was four-star general.

“Motherfucker,” she hissed. “Nobody pushes away Divinity.”

She reached under her short skirt and slipped out a thin switchblade. It zipped open, the long steel blade glinting in the uneven light of the street.

“Man, it’s time to go,” the little mean kid with the buzz cut said.

“Put the fucking knife away,” the dumb one told Divinity.

“Get outta my face!” Divinity spat. “You fuckheads leave, now. I got business to do and a nice new car to ride.”

“We leave you, Smoke will kill us,” the dumb one matter-of-factly stated.

“You don’t and I’ll kill you,” Divinity promised.

The three guys ran off. They disappeared around the corner toward Robinson Street. Divinity pointed the knife at Brazil’s throat, moving in.

“I thought you wanted to be alone with me,” Brazil said as if nothing had ever scared him or ever could. “What kind of way is that to start?”

“Don’t fuck with me,” Divinity said in a soft, menacing voice.

“I thought that’s what you wanted me to do. Fuck with you.”

“When I’m finished with you, baby, you won’t be fucking nothing no more.”

Brazil pointed the remote key at the BMW’s door and the lock clicked free.

“You ever been in one of these?” he asked her as the knife caught light.

He knew he could grab her faster than she could stab, but he would get cut, probably badly. He had something else in mind. He opened the car door.

“What do you think?” he said.

Divinity couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering inside, taking in the dark, soft leather upholstery and thick carpet.

“Climb in,” Brazil said.

She looked uncertain.

“What’s the matter? You afraid to be seen with me?” Brazil asked. “You afraid your boyfriend will do something?”

“I’m not afraid of nothing,” she snapped.

“Maybe I just need to look the part, huh?” Brazil said. “Maybe I’m not dressed right, huh?”

He sat sidesaddle in the driver’s seat. He pulled his Polo shirt over his head and tossed it in back. Divinity stared at his bare chest. Sweat was rolling down it. He picked a Braves baseball cap off the dashboard and put it on backward.

Divinity grinned. She lowered the knife.

“I got Nikes on already.” Brazil held up his right foot. “So all I gotta do is roll up the pants leg and then you climb in with me, baby. And we’ll drive the night away.”

Divinity started giggling. She started laughing harder when Brazil reached down and started rolling up his right pants leg. She gasped when Brazil was suddenly pointing the Colt Mustang between her eyes. The switchblade clattered to the pavement. Divinity started running. An old shark-gray Lemans roared around the corner and slammed on the brakes. The back door flew open and Divinity dove in. Brazil stood in the middle of West Cary Street, the gun by his side, his heart pounding.