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that speed walking was not good on a stomach – and a head – full of Sangria . She stumbled a little a s she reached the crosswalk.
    Déjà vu again. The bikers practically mowed her down even though she had the light and had already stepped off the curb. A quick step back to move out of the way of the marauding bikes landed her square ly on her ass. An explosion of red sauce splattered the sidewalk as the bag burst on impact. Ribs, fries and sweet potato pie were now street litter.
    Sitting among the destruction , Nailah's earlier resignation morphed into something feral, something white boiling hot . Fed by anger, denied hunger and liquid courage, she picked up a rib bone and rose. The last of the bikers was still crossing against the red light, just past the crosswalk.
    Her aim wasn't sure. However, the gods of barbecue must have lent a bit of luck to her trajectory because the bone smacked the last rider square on the cheek as he rode past .
    The next minutes blurred in a quick succession . The impact of the sudden projectile caused the rider to lose control. His b ike skid, wobbled, then toppled beneath him . The spectacle of it all made her laugh with righteous vindication.
    He extricated himself from his bike, sauce smearing his jaw and dripping on to his shirt . She realized too late that laughing wasn't exactly the wisest thing to do in a situation like this. She e specially realized this when his eyes fell on her in a thunderous stare . Inwardly she blame d the Sangria for her stupidity . Or rather a mixture of Sangria and Ms. Barton. Both were about to get her killed.
    Word must have gone down the line of bikers because they were turning around , the sound of engines a chorus as they headed back in her direction . Just like the chorus of laughter that erupted as the bikers stopped and took in the scene. The bikes jammed the intersection forcing cars to move around the blockade. She hadn't realized there were so many of them.
    "Hey Dele! Looks like the bitch's trying to get your attention! Maybe you got somethin' she wants!" This from a ZZ top wannabe with a blondish beard down to mid chest. T he others see med to take their cue from him and laughed .
    "You need to show her the errors of her ways," the "leader" offered , this time without a trace of mirth . "She needs to learn a thing or two about frontin' off to a Demon ."
    The first rider wiped sauce from his face, never taking his eyes from her. Unlike the others, he didn't sport a full beard but rather a few day's growth.
    "We don't have time for this shit," the man answered . "We've got business to take care of."
    "Bro, I decide when and what business we handle. Now t his black bitch think she 's gonna get away with dissin' one of my crew. I say it's our business to show her some reality."
    Nailah had been quiet up until that point, her anger duly squelched by her sudden "reality." But she had learned a thing or two about getting out of bad situations and she definitely had to use some ingenuity to get out of this.
    " Y ou're going to hurt me with all these witnesses around , not to mention a few strategically placed traffic cams ? Tha t's about ten to twenty when you're caught . And s ince I'm guessing most of you aren't unfamiliar with the inside of a jail cell , I figure there'll be some cumulative time tagged on . Now, do you think I'm worth all that? "
    The ZZ top guy smiled. "Who says we'll get caught? But you're right about the cams. What we' re going to do to you won't be recorded. Grab her, Dele."
    The man they called Dele he sitated for a second with an "ah shit" expression on his face . But in the end he moved toward her even as Nailah try to evade his reach. Unfortunately his reach was longer than she calculated and an arm roughly encircled her waist. He dragged her toward his now erect bike, pushed her onto the seat.
    "I'm no t fucking going anywhere with you ! You're going to have to kill me here! "
    "Don't think I won't, " he said