Maximum Velocity

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Maximum Velocity Page 3

by Kelsey Elise Sparrow


  “What a douche,” Ilona states with as much disgust as she can muster in those three words.

  She shakes her head then shutters, releasing an additional disgusted sound from her lips.

  “Exactly. We all said the same thing.”

  “Whatever happened to them?” my sister finally asks.

  “Oh, the husband and wife are still married and live in separate homes.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  Shaking my head, I reveal something very few members of the crew know about Yaz.

  “The wife agreed to let her husband have his thing on the side as long as she was allowed to help raise the baby. The husband agreed because be didn't want to deal with the backlash of a woman scorned. It would’ve apparently looked bad with his business reps or something like that.”

  “What does be do for a living?”

  Max speaks up, “Hotel Owner.”

  “Okay,” Ilona sounds completely confused by Max’s two-word explanation.

  “The wife was the one who handled the marketing. She'd always wanted another baby but didn't want to be the one who carried the child. The husband liked the idea of his woman carrying his child. Yet another thing Yasmeen was willing to do that the wife wasn’t. Yaz accepted the stipulation because, in her words, ‘it was damn good, regular dick’ and she didn't have the first clue how to raise a child. The almost twenty-year age difference mattered not to our girl. The husband and Yasmeen were together for the first year of Kayla's life. They saw each other off and on for two years after that. Now, they are nothing more than fuck buddies and parents of the same kid.”

  “Kids. Blake?” Max says while clearing her throat.

  “Damn, I always forget that little bugger and no, it's not on purpose,” I add when I catch Max mid laugh.

  “Zo and Blake have a love hate relationship. Meaning she loves to hate him.”

  First, sending Max a glare I then roll my eyes. She chuckles in response causing me to glare even more.

  “Blake is hot and cold towards Zo. She never knows which side will greet her when he visits with Yaz. Still, he’s a sweet, memorable kid.”

  “That’s what you say,” I mumble then clear my throat. “Moving on. The forgotten second born of Yaz and Donovan Sr. came a year and four months after Kayla was born.”

  Ilona gives me a confused look when I’m done speaking. It takes me a moment to realize what she could possibly be questioning. I get it around the same time Ma figures it out. I yield the “floor” to her.

  “Blake is Donovan Snyder’s middle name.”

  It takes Ilona a moment to pick her bottom lip up off the floor. Donovan Snyder is a pretty well-to-do entrepreneur and owner of Snyder Incorporated. The Donovan Hotel is one of the premier hotels in the area. It’s known for it’s stellar service an amenities. Knowing someone who is not only rubbing elbows but other body parts with someone from that world usually takes people a moment to adjust to when they learn of Yaz’s connection to the “rich” and “elite” side of Atlanta. Ilona quickly recovers enough to offer up a response to all that we’ve shared with her.

  “That is one hell of a story.” Ilona sits back in her seat then sits up while tapping the table. “Wait, do they—Yaz, the wife, and Snyder—have the same deal for both kids?”

  Max is quicker than I am to respond.

  “Yep. Yes. Of course they do. Snyder wouldn’t have it any other way. He gets to have his cake and eat it too.”

  “Stories involving Yaz usually are,” I conclude.

  “Wait, so when she suddenly had to leave before ...?” Ilona asks as the waitress places our plates on the table.

  Nodding our heads in response, Max then speaks.

  “She'd received a text from Dick Pic.”

  That's what Max calls Donovan Sr. which I find hilarious.

  “Yeah, I want her not to be so available to him.”

  Ilona then makes a suggestion that makes my entire body cringe.

  “Set her up.”

  “I don't think a person exists who has the ability to handle all that is Yaz,” I tell them.

  “I might,” Max declares.

  “Of course, you do.” At our confused looks, I clarify, “Know of someone who could handle all of who Yaz is.”

  “Are you going somewhere special?” I ask as Yaz strolls into the office. “We saw the picture float across your screen so we figured you were headed over to see Dick Pic,” Cherry asks as she leans back in her seat to peer out of her booth so she can see Yaz as she struts by her area. “Looking at you now, I’m questioning whether or not that’s true.”

  Yaz blows out an exasperated breath.

  “Is it possible for y’all to actually call him by his name and not the name Boss Lady Max gave him?”

  The remaining staff takes no time in responding.

  “No!”

  We all smile or laugh while Yaz rolls her eyes. Pulling her emergency bag from beneath her desk, she silently answers my question.

  “Soooo, you are going to see ... him.” Cherry says then stands to move closer to where Yaz is waiting.

  “Not that any of you really care, but yes.”

  I smirk because I have a snide ass reply but Yaz appears to be extra sensitive today. I’ll keep it to myself.

  Instead I offer up, “Oh, the problem isn’t with us caring. That has never been the issue.”

  “Really?” Yaz replies with a little too much sass for my liking.

  Max decides to put it all out there.

  “All right. Tonight, instead a ‘fuck and duck,’ you’re getting him to ‘take you for a spin’ so he can see what he’ll win?”

  Cherry snorts and tries to cover her response with her hand when she sees the hurt on Yaz’s face.

  “Why does it have to be like that?”

  “It has to be like that because not one week ago you were lying on my couch with your head in my lap, crying your eyes out over how horrible this man treats you. Today, you’re all dolled up like you’re going on a date in a brand-new situation.”

  Max nods her head in agreement with my statements.

  “It isn’t new and you’re not some fresh-faced teen. You’re a woman in her twenties who is mother to two of this man’s children. You’re accepting of a situation and a person who isn’t worth your time. I don’t care how you try to rationalize this situation, the man is still married. I don’t give a damn what the reasons are behind it. It’s the truth.”

  “You don’t understand what it is we have together.”

  Yaz turns on her heel and makes for the door. Her statement makes me sad for her. She doesn’t know what it means to have a man in her life who is solely devoted to her and wants to do everything in his power to ensure her every happiness. I’m sad because I wish she had a guy like one of the men Max, Cherry, and I have. Those guys would fold the world in half just to keep a smile on their woman’s face.

  “You deserve more than he’s offering, Yaz. Hopefully soon you’ll know that for yourself,” I tell her exiting form.

  I know she’s going to be pissed at us. I also know she hates it when we doe this because she knows we’re right. I don’t care because I can’t stand the fact that my friend is getting hurt and taken advantage of because her esteem is too low to accept that she’s not happy. Nor can she accept the fact that living in misery for the sake of keeping a man makes the man instantly unworthy of the jewel that she is.

  Nodding to Max, I silently tell her that I’m “in” on whatever scheme she has cooked up. Maxie’s phone is in her hand within the next second. I hope like hell she is right about whoever this guy is because Yaz doesn’t need another pathetic sac of nothing in her life. She’s full up enough for several people.

  Chapter

  Atlanta, Georgia- Inked to the Max

  Trev

  4 months pregnant

  S

  tanding in front of my booth, I watch the people surrounding one area and wonder what the hell did I miss while I was
lost in thoughts of my life with Zoie?

  I’m out of my mind. That’s what they’ll tell me. I’ve gone and lost it. I can understand the thinking behind their judgements. If I were in their places, I’d feel the same way. I don’t blame them. My mother is going to shit herself. My uncle—the man who stepped up when my father died—is going to pass out. No one is going to believe me when I tell them I am set to steady go it with one female and one female alone.

  One of the new people working with Deck walks in the back door along with Tracker and I not my acknowledgement. Zander. Zander Collins is his name. that’s all I know and all I care to know because that shit doesn’t involve me.

  “Look Man, that’s her, isn’t it?”

  I’m waiting for my next customer to choose their art when I hear that question float through the air to my ears. There are exactly four women in the main booth area when the question is tossed out. Three of the four are claimed and one of them happens to be mine. I try to follow dude’s line of sight but can’t seeing as all of the women are in the same vicinity. Deck must’ve heart them too because he’s eyeballing the two at the front reception area as much as I am. The next words out of the taller one’s mouth have me in motion seconds later.

  “That ass and those hips are unforgettable. Neither is the taste of that honey, sweet pussy. I can tell you that much. I’m going in because I’ve been missing that. Need to finish what I started.”

  I have no fucking idea how I reach the two before Deck but I’m in dude’s face by the time he makes his claim about tapping what’s mine.

  “I'm going to have to disappoint you there, Son. You can’t touch what’s unavailable. Even if she were up for “tasting,” your grimy ass hands still wouldn’t touch that precious flesh.”

  “Oh yeah. Who says? Her daddy? I’m not trying hear you, Old Man.”

  Old man? This kid is joking right?

  This kid is a fucking joke. I’m not in a kidding around mood. I’m never going to be when it comes to Zoie. She is my world and the center of my joy. Knowing she is carrying the future within her spurs me into possessive asshole mode.

  “You don’t want to know who I truly am, Kid. The truth would fuck with your simple ass mind. All you need to know is when it comes to her I’m whomever I fucking need to be. I’m her daddy, her bodyguard, her motherfucking tooth fairy and fairy godmother if your leprechaun looking ass needs a little magic to make you fucking believe just how real this is.” What the kid doesn’t know is as I’ve been talking I’ve pulled out two different weapons. One is pointed at his gut, the other is aimed at his balls. “Now, be real smart about this or they’ll be pulling both lead and steel from your body.”

  When I speak the words, he feels the pressure I put on his balls and his abdomen. Swallowing hard, his eyes dart from one side to the other. His boys don’t have a clue that their supposed leader could be dead in a matter of seconds if he gives me the wrong fucking response. What the other two idiots don’t know is Neal has one in his line of sight and Deck has the other. Marjorie, behind the counter, has her finger on the trigger of the concealed weapon beneath the counter and Yaz is currently spinning her Sais underneath her desk. We live in fucking Atlanta and most of us grew up running in the streets of this wrong side of town or somewhere similar. This isn’t a crew to fuck with regardless of the team of trained marksmen that keeps tabs on this place because of who their team lead fell in love with.

  The kid does the right thing by beginning to back away from me. I don’t let up because he strikes me as the type to try to get in a blindsided sucker punch if I don’t pay attention.

  Just as I thought. I don’t get a chance to complete the damn thought before he takes two steps back and tries to swing on me. Key word here is he tries to swing. With a quick twist of his wrist, I have on his knees. Guns cock the second I move, so I know I have nothing to worry about from the other two dumbasses who followed this asshole into the shop.

  “I’d heed his words, young buck. No one’s in a mood to play games with you. Today, most of the people inside are trigger happy. If your particular goal of the moment is to feel some heat, then keep pushing the button you’re pressing. Otherwise ...”

  Deck leaves the statement open-ended. The kid isn’t as stupid as I initially thought he was. He quickly assesses the situation then finally determines to wisely make his exit. Today, he gets to walk away with no lead lancing through his body. Let’s hope he doesn't do something that will later warrant another outcome.

  Chapter

  Atlanta, Georgia – Inked to the Max

  Zoie

  4 months pregnant

  H

  elp me understand what I’m looking at so I can get this right,” I hear Max state.

  That’s usually our clue that something interesting is going on in Max’s area.

  Standing, I walk over to the area pretending like there is something at her station I need. On a sheet of paper is a fox chasing a rabbit. The phone is pretty cool. It has some tribal aspects to it. What makes the photo interesting is the fact that there is a head of lettuce complete with arms and legs running from the rabbit. The guy’s eyes flick up to me then back to Max.

  “It’s the circle of life,” the guy in Max’s chair says.

  I hear snickers and snorts from the other side of Max’s station and recognize the hushed whispers of Cherry and Yaz. I laugh as I exit the area and find Trevor leaning against the wall, smirking. That is one of the most interesting takes on the circle of life I’ve seen in a while. I think I failed to mention the fact that all three things are actually forming a circle on the paper. The drawing includes connective lines.

  Seeing him reminds me of what day it is and the smile on my face couldn’t get any bigger if I tried.

  “Z babe, how do you know what I’m working with when ...” he moves closer so that I am the only one who can hear the remainder of the question. “You haven’t ridden this ride just yet?”

  This is a game we play every so often. It’s her idea. The fact that she really gets into the role is worth every cheesy thing I have to say.

  When I look at him and see that boyish grin or hear that Louisiana drawl of his, I don’t know how I held out for as long as I have. He steps into my space and I know it’s partially for my benefit but mostly for Devin’s. Trevor wants Devin to know that I’m comfortable with him invading my space and I’m happy to allow him this moment to let it be known to everyone here that he’s who I want to be with for always. I’ll admit to anyone who asks me that I enjoy the hell out of this alpha male, territorial thing he has going.

  Stepping in closer, I strategically place my thigh where I can feel the weight of his balls and smile before whispering in his ear.

  “I don’t need to ride the ride to know the equipment is worth the token. Today’s Appreciation Tuesday and I’m more than ready to show versus tell.”

  As I walk away, I put a little extra swing in my hips. I don’t look back, but I feel Trevor’s eyes on me. For the first time in the five years of my working in this shop, Trevor is silent. I hear Deck ask Trevor if he’s all right. When I hear Trevor’s responding question, I die laughing. I’m sitting in the back room.

  “What the hell is ‘Appreciation Tuesday’ and why the fuck didn’t I know about it until today?”

  If I know Max and Deck, they are both laughing their asses off.

  “Trev, prepare yourself. Actually, Yasmeen clear the tomorrow’s schedule for this man. Shit’s about to get real for him today,” Max yells to the front of the shop.

  If I were standing outside, I’d be beet red from embarrassment. As it is, I’m blushing hard in the back lounge. The good thing for me is I already have the afternoon off, so I don’t have to exit through the front. My car is right next to the back door. I have a lot to take care of in the next hour. I’m more than ready to get the hell out of here.

  Trev’s Lady: I’ll see you soon. Heed Max’s words. ☺

  Trevor’s response is immediate. />
  Zo’s Man: Fucking hate that I have a customer. Knocking this shit out quick as fuck.

  Trev’s Lady: hope those words don’t speak to our plans for later.

  Zo’s Man: Fuck no. Disappointment is not on the menu, Z babe.

  I am wearing the biggest smile on my face as I walk out the back exit of Inked to the Max. My smile immediately vanishes when Devin’s ass is standing next to my car.

  “Sorry Zoie. If it’s any consolation, this isn’t my doing. My fucking big mouth.”

  I furrow my brows in confusion. This is a change in demeanor from the overly presumptuous bastard that was in the shop a few minutes ago. If Devin was this person when we were together, then I may have been a little more willing to try to make our relationship work. As it were, he was a grade “A” asshole for most of the time we were together and I’d had enough of his bullshit.

  I open my mouth to tell him that I don’t have time to try to figure out what in the hell he could possibly be talking about when a bag is suddenly thrown over my head. I struggle but am scooped up by strong arms. There is a drawstring on the bag and it cinches tightly around my throat. Still, I fight.

  “Hope this bitch doesn’t put up this much of a fight when I’m fucking her tonight,” a voice I don’t recognize says and a tremor of fear rips through my body.

  Chapter 2

  Atlanta, Georgia – Trevor’s Apt.

  Zoie

  10 months ago

  S

  hy ome days, you just never know what you’re walking into. I don’t know when it happened but it did. I just didn’t realize we’d hit that point in our relationship. I think this as I take the key and put it in the lock. It’s a lock that isn’t my own. It’s a key that’s only mine because it was recently given to me. It’s a trust I haven’t had with anyone prior to this man. Let me amend that statement. I’ve had it just not with anyone outside of my family or Max. My brothers have a key to my house, but Maxie has the codes to my alarms for both my home and the office I have.

 

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