by HJ Bellus
After brushing her hair out of her face, she takes in the place. “I could kiss both of you right now right smack on the lips.”
I pucker, pretending to go in for a kiss. She swats me away.
“It was a joke. But holy shit, thank you for cleaning up this place. It was getting pretty damn bad.”
“No problem. Mack only gagged once while cleaning out the fridge.” I shrug.
Layla brushes past me after setting the grocery bags on the counter. The two women do what women do when babies are around. Coo and ahh over the cuteness overload, which leaves me to unpack the groceries. The phone in my pocket weighs me down as I put shit away. It’s the complete opposite thing I need on my mind right now.
I brush that thought away. We end up spending the rest of the day at Jag’s place. The worn-out parents waltz out hours later, looking like brand-new people. Sunni clutched her breasts wincing in pain. The timing was spot on. Layla and Mack helped get the boys settled with their mother.
I whipped up one of my mom’s casseroles, although it didn’t help to take my mind off of the storm brewing. It was my favorite meal growing up. Brightened any day when she’d make it. I’d eat so much of the shit I always ended up groaning in pain afterward. It’s comfort food at its best with tater tots, cheese, cream of mushroom, and hamburger. Layla whipped up a salad to go with it.
Sunni and Jag polish off a few plates of food while the women go batshit crazy over the boys. Leaning back on the counter eating bland chicken, I watch Mack with baby Felix. It does something to me. The caveman lingering inside wants nothing more than to take her in the bathroom and knock her ass up right now. Fuck the birth control pills she just got on.
“Lost in thought, sheep fucker?” Jag leans on the counter next to me.
“Just thinking of knocking up my woman,” I respond.
He snorts. “It’s pretty fucking awesome.”
“Yeah, in time for us.”
“What gives?” He narrows his attention in on me.
I turn to look at him. The man can read me like a book. “Not feeling settled is all. Gonna suck ass not having you at the fight tonight.”
“Not going to lie, it’s going to be hard as fuck on me. I can’t leave Sunni here with the boys all alone quite yet.”
“I get it. You need to be here. I’m off.”
“Something up with Mack?” He snags a bottle of water, draining it in one swallow.
“No, hell no. We are good. Shit has been amazing.” I stand up from the counter and rest both of my hands on the top of my head, knowing he won’t give up until I tell him everything. “Home shit. Mom keeps calling and wants to talk about my dad.”
Jag flinches. He knows all too well how our past can really screw with our heads. “The best advice I can give you is to take care of that shit. Seal it up before it takes you down. Because no doubt it will eat you alive.”
“That much I do know,” I growl.
“I’m here for you, man, any time of the day.” Jag slaps my back before going back to his wife’s side.
Now, I feel like a damn pussy. When your head isn’t on right when you enter the octagon, it’s a dangerous combination. I’ll call my mom after the fight tonight, or at least that’s what I tell myself. It soothes away a bit of the anxiety.
Entering the living area, I spot Mack disappearing down the hallway. Perfect. She’s just what I need to erase the chaos. I ignore Jag’s moans from the living room when he picks up on what I’m doing.
Mack jumps when I wrap my arms around her and pull her back into my chest.
“What are you doing?”
I growl into her neck while pushing us into the bathroom. I shut and lock the door. Not wasting any time, I tug down her shorts and lacy thong.
“Trick,” she hisses. “We can’t do this here.”
Our sexual appetite has been on fire since the night of her birthday. We can’t keep our hands off each other. It doesn’t matter that I had her twice this morning before heading out. I need her again.
“Yes, we can, rebel girl.” I sink to my knees, backing her up against a wall.
I hitch one of her legs over my shoulder then the other. Mack’s hands flail down to my head. Her pleas fall on deaf ears.
“Trick, seriously.” She pauses. “Oh God.”
I smile against her pussy as I glide my tongue through her folds. My fingers dig into her ass. I’m relentless, swirling my tongue and sucking hard on her clit. Mack’s moan grows in intensity. She fists a handful of my hair and tugs on it when she cums all over my tongue. The sweetest nectar I’ve ever tasted.
“Jesus, Trick, what’s wrong with you?” Mack asks, panting and peering down at me.
“Want you. Need you.”
Mack wiggles one leg off my shoulder then eases herself into a standing position. She plants her palms on my chest, backing me up until I’m forced to sit down on a wooden bench. She drops to her knees, licking her lips.
“You bring out the crazy in me, Trick.” She makes easy work of getting my throbbing cock out.
“My bad.” I shrug.
She stands back up. “No, you’re good, baby.”
I hiss when Mack settles down on me. She sinks slowly until she hits the base of my dick. Her rhythmic moves are slow at first. It’s pure torture. I clutch her ass, beginning to control her speed, slamming her tight pussy down on me. I’ve been careful not to be too rough with Mack. That sense of control shreds into bits.
I stand in one swift movement. Mack scrambles to hang on. I’d never let her fall. We find our tempo within seconds. I slam her down on me in a swinging motion while thrusting in her.
“Not gonna last, baby. You there yet?” I hiss.
“Trick. Oh, Trick. I’m there. Don’t stop. Let go.” She drops her head to the top of my shoulder.
I follow her command. My balls tighten, my teeth clench, and that sensational tingle darts up my spine. I begin to roar out my release. Mack pops her head up and seals her lips to mine, caging the echo of the sound. She falls limp in my arms, placing a line of kisses down my jawline.
“You okay?” she asks.
Mack’s been amazing not putting pressure on the topic of my family. She’s no idiot, though. It’s clear it’s been eating me alive.
“Fucking golden now.” I bury my face in her hair.
“You’re lying, but I’ll give you time.”
I chuckle. We clean up in a hurry. I need to get to the gym.
“Are you good heading to the gym when Layla does?” I ask, pulling up her shorts and buttoning them.
“Yes!” She claps her hands together. “More baby time.”
I shake my head. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I want her to have my last name and pregnant with my baby. I have no doubt it will happen one day. It’s too soon right now.
Jag gives me hell before I leave. The girls roll their eyes. With one final lingering kiss to Mack, I begin the short walk to the gym. A bright yellow van whizzes past me. It reminds me of my own bundle of sunshine; I reach down in my pocket for my phone to text her.
“Shit,” I mutter.
I must’ve left my phone on the counter at Jag’s. I don’t have time to turn around. I’ll have to use my old iPod for music. I square my shoulders and fight to get in the right frame of mind.
Chapter 20
Mack
I volunteer to clean up the kitchen. Mindless work always soothes me. Being around those sweet babies has done one hell of a job of doing that as well. I spot a black iPhone on the counter. Picking it up, I notice it’s Trick’s. I push the home button, but it remains black.
Popping back into the living room, I hold it up. “Do you guys have a charger? Trick left his phone.”
“Right here.” Sunni holds her hand up.
I give it to her, and she plugs it in. I go back to the kitchen, finishing up my job.
“Mack,” Sunni whisper-yells from her seat. “It’s not dead. It was powered off.”
“Okay.”
I dry my hands off on a dishtowel and join the gang in the living room.
I grab it from Sunni to see the phone coming to life. A full battery signals at the top of the screen. Odd, he had it turned off.
“Does it need a charge?” Sunni asks.
“No,” I whisper.
Several texts from Trick’s mom pop up on the screen. I can read the first line of each one. My curiosity wins out. I’m concerned about Trick; it’s not that I’m nosey.
Mom: Trenton, I really need you to call me.
Mom: I’m not going to lie here or try to trick you into coming home. Your dad is dying. He’s been given weeks at the most. I want this shit fixed between the two of you. If at all possible, please come home even if it’s for a weekend.
Mom: Sorry, to drop this on you in a text. I knew you would never listen to me.
Mom: I love you.
“Mack, everything okay?” Sunni leans forward in her recliner, causing it to squeak.
I swallow hard. “Yeah, just can’t believe Trick left his phone behind.”
“He seemed off today,” she replies.
I shrug. “I think it’s the fight tonight.”
Nobody in the room buys my excuse. They also don’t push me, for which I’m thankful. I fell fast for Trick and continue to do so every single day, and to see him struggling guts me. I know all too well that sometimes you have to come to grips with your problems all on your own. Trick was the one person to push me out of my comfort zone. It was scary as hell. Took a whole hell of a lot of nerve to do so. I did it all in my own time. Now I sit here with close friends, all of us concerned over Trick. Even though I’m worried about him, it’s also comforting to know we will have his back.
I’m relieved when Sunni asks if we’ll help bathe the babies. Yes, it takes all four of us to do so. Those boys do not like the water at all. It was a party of constant screaming.
“Dexter, it’s okay, baby. Ssshhhh.” I pick him up in his fresh clothes and cradle him to my chest, rocking back and forth.
Felix is still kicking and screaming on the changing table. Jag’s doing his best to get his diaper on him. Everything happens in slow motion.
An arc of pee shoots up and nails Jag right between the eyes. And his mouth was open.
“Are you kidding me, son?” He wipes his face off with the back of his hand.
Layla’s howls of laughter outmatch Felix’s cries. She manages to talk through it all. “I got that on video. Priceless.”
“I’m gonna kick your ass, Layla,” Jag grits out. “It’s okay, Felix, you can pee on your aunt when you’re older.”
Sunni shoves Jag to the side. He doesn’t protest; instead he races to the bathroom. The sound of the shower fills the tiny apartment. Sunni gets the job done in a matter of seconds. And the babies are ready to eat once again. It’s all they do. Eat, sleep, poop, and pee; such a rough life.
We get Sunni settled in her recliner. She has it down nursing both of the babies. I’m pretty sure Layla and I are just in the way.
“Okay, we’re going to head out.” Layla bends down and kisses Sunni’s forehead. “I’ll text you guys updates. Oh, and I’ll make sure to show the entire gym the video.”
“Sounds good. Thank you, guys, for everything. Come back anytime.”
Jag reappears with just a towel wrapped around his hips. He points a finger straight at Layla. “Share that video, and I will kick your ass.”
“Remember all the times you’ve depantsed me? It’s on, buddy!”
He chases after her. Layla is faster getting out of the apartment. Jag follows her. I whip my vision to the open door and back to Sunni. She doesn’t seem shocked he ran outside only wrapped in a towel. I shouldn’t be either. The man is insane.
I gift Sunni with one more wave before stepping outside.
“You shit,” Jag hollers.
I gasp when I come into view of Jag’s bare ass. Layla waves the towel around her head as if it’s a victory flag. She taunts him for a few beats before tossing it back at him. It’s a wonder she hasn’t pissed herself. Jag flips her the bird then spins on his heels. The grin on his face is damn near contagious. I keep my eyes focused straight ahead, not eager for another towel mishap.
“Mack.” Jag snags my shoulder before I can get past him.
“Yeah.” Eyes still focused up.
“Talk to Boss. Have him step in. It’s the only way you’ll get Trick to listen.”
I take a step back, shocked. Does he know more about Trick than I do?
“Okay,” I stutter out.
“Don’t give up on him.”
This comment makes my spine stiffen. “I’d never do that, Jag. I love him.”
“Good.” He slaps my ass as he walks past me. “Good talk, sport.”
Did he just coach me? I’m confident he did.
“Daddy’s home!” Jag shouts before shutting the door.
I can’t quite make out what Sunni shouts back at him, but I’m relatively sure the F-bomb was involved.
***
The gym is packed like a can of sardines. Makes sense since this is a sanctioned fight. This place has become like a second home to me. If I want to spend time with Trick, this is the place. It comforts me even if he’s training. It’s hot, sweaty, man candy for all the taking. My man candy.
Layla points out our seats before rushing off. They’re front once again. I don’t recognize one familiar face, convincing me the fighters and Boss must be in the locker room. I’ve heard all about the after-fight locker room scandals. It seems it’s tradition for Cruz to take Layla back there after every fight, even the ones he doesn’t fight in. There have been some rumblings about Jag and Sunni doing the same thing.
Our bathroom romp was good enough for me. I cover my face with my hand, thinking about it. I still can’t believe we did it. My core tightens remembering what Trick did to me. I catch Boss striding up to the front counter and decide it’s a now or never moment. There really is no perfect time to have this discussion.
“Boss.” I tap him on his shoulder.
He whirls around, a scowl firmly planted on his face. It softens the moment he sees me. “Mack-A-Bee, what’s up?”
That damn nickname. I dig into my back pocket, pulling out Trick’s phone. “I don’t know how to say this.”
“Say it.” He leans back on the counter. “I’m all ears.”
I blurt it out in long-winded sentences. “Trick’s mom called the night of my birthday. He was upset afterward. He left his phone at Jag’s, and I read the unopened texts from his mom. I know I shouldn’t have. He’s been struggling, and it’s killing me. He does his best to hide it. His dad is dying.”
My hands tremble, and tears war in my eyes. Guilt strikes me hard. I shouldn’t have opened that text. Boss doesn’t respond. He steps up and wraps his arms around me in a tight hug.
“You love him, and that’s all that matters at the end of the day, Mack. We will talk to him after the fight. You’ve done the right thing.” He rubs soothing circles on my back.
When he lets me go, I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand. “Do you think he’ll be okay tonight? I mean for the fight.”
Boss nods. “I’ve got him.”
I nod. Boss gives me one more pat before heading back to the locker room. I felt drained and energized at the same time. It took a lot getting that out and asking for help. I wander back to my seat after buying some popcorn and chilled Dr. Pepper. I don’t recognize any of the fighters in the first few matches. Layla does as she’s up on her feet and cussing like a sailor during every one.
I don’t pay much attention to any of the fights until The Country Boy Brawler is announced.
The baritone voice of the announcer booms across the gym. “Your hometown boy, representing Diablo’s Throne, with a mixed martial arts record of twelve knockouts and five submissions, this badass country boy fears nothing. Triiiiick, the Country Boy Brawler!”
“A Country Boy Can Survive” beats steady as the crowd er
upts in a deafening roar. Nearly everyone is on their feet, pumping their hands in the air for Trick. I’m not much of a country music fan, but I love this song. It’s Trick to the core.
Trick stares straight ahead. His eyes are stone cold and laser-focused. His ball cap sits backward on his head; the black silk robe lies open, showcasing his abs. The closer he gets to the ring, the faster he walks. Stomping out each stride with power and confidence, Trick enters the ring.
He shreds the robe and tosses it to the corner. He stares down his opponent for a long time before retreating to his corner. Boss puts stuff on his face while barking at him. The referee checks Trick’s mouthpiece and fists.
“Clear your fucking head.” Boss taps Trick’s temples.
He nods, hopping from foot to foot. I’m up on my feet with my hands balled into fists.
“C’mon, baby,” I whisper to myself.
The bell rings. The fighters dance around each other. The other man throws a punch, landing it square on Trick’s jaw. He doesn’t even try to dodge it. He absorbs it and the next four that come his way.
I glance to his corner to see Riot and Boss clinging to the cage. The veins in Boss’ temple throb in frustration. Trick’s shoulders slump when the bell rings. Boss ridicules him once his ass hits the stool in his corner. Trick nods as if he’s listening.
Before the time’s up, Boss leans down and whispers something in his ear. I didn’t think it was possible for Trick to slump any more than he already was. I was wrong. Boss slaps his back. His voice is so raised I can hear each word.
“I mean it, Trick. Goddammit, I mean it. I’ll always be at every fight of yours, by your side.”
It seems the pep talk did no good. Trick continues to take punch after punch. Blood covers his face and spills onto the mat. I glance at the clock to see there are thirty seconds left in the second round. The other man punishes Trick with a brutal knee to his ribcage. It snaps something in him. I see the moment it happens. Trick’s eyes finally flare to life.
