by Love Belvin
“Fuck that! I got this. Put ‘im down, cousin.” I sensed that was Butchie.
They were speaking facts. I could kill this dude, but for what? He wasn’t worth it. I let him down. Ryder fell to his ass, holding his neck as he gasped for air. I slung spit next to him and pulled up my sweats.
“I’ll tell my wife to expect that apology before the sun goes down,” were my last words as I turned to walk away.
Good sense had finally arrived and my conscience began flooding in. I was sure no one could see it, because I shielded it from my face. I was gone. Had flipped. Violent.
The guys followed me to the truck.
“Yo, Tyheem, man,” Trick yelled, on my heels, “get him in there. People gone start coming around, taking pix and shit for the Gram!”
Tyheem was already on it, had the door waiting as I approached the truck. I caught him slipping the pistol back in the holster as he waited.
“Yo, Brick, man,” Butchie yelled while following us. He pointed to Ryder, holding his neck on the ground. “Don’t let that nigga go nowhere until I say so!”
Trick and Butchie jumped in the truck on the other side and Tyheem pulled off.
They moved to leave the truck.
“Yo, man, y’all be safe out here,” I bade.
We drove around for close to thirty minutes catching up. I filled Butchie in on the Ryder situation, not giving away more details than he needed to know. My problems with my stepson’s father were mine. I was a grown man and could handle them alone. I knew I’d catch Ryder whether it was randomly like today—even though I wasn’t expecting it—or at Christmas when he dropped off gifts for Ky—if he bought him anything, because according to Jade, he hadn’t yet—or on the low at next year’s birthday party. We were going to settle his disrespect from that day.
“No problem, TB. I’m glad I saw you, man! Can’t believe you remembered me after all these years. Yo, you know how many times I told people you my cousin and they didn’t believe me ‘cause we ain’t in Camden no more?”
“No doubt. I remember you, man. I ain’t been around in a while, but we came up together, Butchie.” I didn’t want family like him thinking I had a big head. I didn’t want any of my family believing I was bigger or better—unless it was out on the football field. “You just keep your head up, and hands out them streets. Ain’t too late for you, man. I’mma be praying for your success.”
“Ah, man!” Butchie was more hyper than I remembered him, but mad cool. I could easily think it was because of my celebrity, but I recognized that loyal spirit in him from when we were pups. “That’s G, my nigga. You think you could hook me up with job training? I’m pushing three hun’-ed, man. I could be security. I probably can’t carry legally, but I got them shifty eyes and can peep out snakes. I likes to get my hands dirty!”
“Now that I got your number, I’ll put you in touch with Tyheem.” I tossed my chin to the front seat. “He can hook you up with the information. If you’re serious about this, I’ll cover the cost of your training. Lots of players are looking for good security. It’s about more than holding a gun. It’s about street smarts and knowing how to diffuse a situation. My man, Ramsey Bishop, just said he looking for somebody. The market’s definitely there.”
“Word? Ramsey Bishop from that show From the Sidelines with fine ass Wil? Damn!” He clapped his hands together as he laughed, face turning red. “Yo, nobody saw that coming. He a good look for the Kings, yo!” He nodded his approval. “Or I could be your other security!” Butchie looked gassed at that prospect.
“Nah. I can do that. I may’ve been on knock off, but this my brother. That’s why I’m ready to get back to this Ryder nigga now. We wasn’t raised as nephew and uncle. We was like twins. I’mma prove my loyalty again. Watch,” Trick vowed.
The weight of his words were too much for me. I was nobody to look up to, but wouldn’t mind having my dude back in my life.
“Nah.” I brushed my nose with my thumb, my eyes went out the window. “I got something else for you. Something that’s going to get you outta Jersey. I’m waiting to see how it go down first,” I shared honestly.
I was referring to the casino Divine was about to take over. When it happened, he would need fresh eyes in security. Trick may have been a felon, but Divine employed them by the dozen. I’d put in a word for Trick. He could use a change of scenery. Wasn’t nothing in Camden for him but familiar enticement of trouble. In the meantime, I’d watch him. See if he could live up to his word of letting the past go.
Trick nodded, acknowledging my proposal.
“I’ll hit you about it as it develops. You just gotta stay sucker free in these streets.” I held out my arm to give them some love, Trick first.
“Peace, Trent!” Butchie yelled when he was out of the truck, looking in. “I got you on all dat, big homie!”
I nodded. Trick saluted me, and I acknowledged him with a neck bow, too.
Tyheem pulled off and I relaxed in my seat, scooting back to rest my head. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes.
God, what is up with my temper?
It had been flaring up too much lately. I felt out of control and didn’t like it. I could have done some serious damage to that clown! Dude was a light weight. It wasn’t even fair. He was Ky’s father, for God’s sake!
On the ride to Connecticut, I prayed and repented until I fell asleep. If there was one thing today showed me, it was why I still needed Jesus.
~Twenty-One
Me: I’m here.
I took a deep breath after hitting send. My eyes glanced around to the grand building before me. I was here at the grand ballroom Hotep Black Financial Bank owned, not too far from the stadium deemed the home of the Connecticut Kings.
My nerves were far more rampant than I considered. Maybe I should have ridden in the limo with April. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to drive myself in case I needed a fast getaway. What if Brielle was here? Or another hard to shake former lover of Trent’s? No. I made the right call. What would have been more perfect was if Shank’s foundation’s fundraiser would have been in his home state of New Jersey. But when we planned it, we knew if we wanted to kick it off this year, it would have to be near Trent’s job. Technically, no major events like this should be scheduled during the season.
I took a deep breath. Trent was back at work now. Officially. The training camp gave us space from one another to think this marriage thing through. I don’t believe I’d come to any resolve yet, though. I was still angry and confused. I couldn’t divorce him now. I wasn’t prepared to leave our church. Neither could I leave the Alpine mansion. I had two kids to think about.
Trent: Where? John’s out there. He said he don’t see you.
I rolled my eyes at the phone. Then I put it down to drive toward the entrance. I was late—unintentionally. I ran into traffic on the way up. The last thing I wanted to do was embarrass Trent. It was why I came anyway. Not showing to the first fundraiser from the foundation named after his beloved uncle would have been a slap in the face to my husband so soon after our public nuptials.
Of course, he doesn’t give me the same consideration…
As I pulled up to the entrance, I spotted John looking dapper in his black tux. He noticed me, too, and whistled for the valet. I quickly plopped down the mirror in the sun visor to apply a fresh coat of lipstick. By the time the attendant made it to my truck, I had my clutch and shoes in hand.
John was there to usher me inside. The moment we entered the lobby, Elle was there waiting for me. She didn’t even speak. Right away, she grabbed my sandals, dropped into a squat in her exquisite gown, and tapped my ankle for me to lift. She changed my footwear as I held onto John’s big frame.
“I’m grateful for this,” I murmured down to Elle, hearing the live band playing from beyond the ballroom doors.
“And I’m grateful you came,” she returned. Once done, she stood effortlessly and straightened her gown. “You know that thing with Brielle was a meaningless nuanc
e, at best, don’t you?”
I smoothed down my own gown, wiggling to form it. My chin lifted and I peered ahead. “Let’s get this show on the road before my bladder gives.”
Completely ignoring her plea, I began my stride to the entrance of the room. I was pregnant, weeks away from delivering and stubborn as hell. The last thing I was going to do was discuss my marital issues with my husband’s public relations guru. Elle was damn good, but my marriage was mine to govern.
John released my arm to open the door for us. As he did, Elle released a big smile and faced me. The room opened to guests engaging, some holding champagne flutes or tumblers. The festiveness of the atmosphere could be felt immediately. Right away, I thought all the planning and all the stress was worth what I could feel in those first few moments.
The first face somewhat recognizable was Terrance Grant, a Kings wide receiver under JJ. I knew of him because of all the pictures he took with Trent, tagging him like crazy as though they were tight. Trent told me before training camp he believed Grant did that to spite Jordan. He said he had no relationship like that with Grant. That alone made me not like him. Jordan was my heart. No way I could be okay with someone trying to antagonize him.
True to my usual luck, Grant approached me the moment his eyes lit with recognition. Funny thing was, we’d never met. Quickly, my latest act of revenge came to mind. I’d made my Facebook and Instagram pages public to anger my husband with sexy pictures and to make his former lover, Brielle—and whomever else he’d been keeping from me—jealous.
“Mrs. Bailey,” Terrance Grant greeted with familiarity and hooded eyes the moment he was upon me.
That struck me. So much that I scoffed with eyes sweeping over to Elle.
“Jade, meet Terrance Grant, a third string wide receiver for your husband’s Connecticut Kings.” I couldn’t ignore the possession of the team in that introduction. “Mr. Grant, maybe Mrs. Bailey will be able to chat with you soon. She now needs to work the room before dinner is called.”
With a crestfallen expression, Grant backed up with a heavy pout and neck bow. Boy, was he laying it on thick.
Not two seconds after we advanced inside the opulent hall did Wil Cunningham and Ramsey Bishop come into view. The media had been dragging their relationship through the mud. According to Trent, per Ramsey, they weren’t “together” at my wedding. The word spread during Ramsey’s earlier days at training camp, which was two weeks before Trent started along with the other veterans. And now…seeing them “together”…it all made sense. Their proximity was blazed with chemistry.
“I’m so glad you two were able to make it!” I gushed, feeling a sense of familiarity with them now, particularly Wil. A blissful wedding would do that to you. Not to mention Wil’s interview of Trent this summer before training camp began. It was a near disaster, thanks to my overprotectiveness of Trent’s privacy. Her mentioning his relationship with his parents and legal woes had steam shooting through my ears. But Wil forged through, making it clear she had no ill intent and was padded with journalistic integrity. It also didn’t hurt that she was an admitted Trent Bailey fan. “Wil—wow! You look amazing!”
“Hey, Jade!” She approached me with a warm and clutching hug, letting me know our disagreement over the direction of her interview was forgiven. I was grateful. The end result was tasteful, honest to Trent’s character, and informative. “You look amazing yourself! And how far along are you now?” she asked excitedly.
“Whew!” I rubbed my tight belly. “Almost thirty-eight weeks, girl, and little miss thang doesn’t seem to be outgrowing her digs. My worst nightmare is her not adhering to the eviction notice at the end of the month!” I winked. “But I have a backup plan for missy.” I formed my fingers to resemble scissors.
We laughed.
“Well, it looks good on you, Jade,” Ramsey complimented. “TB is crazy excited about his little girl. He can’t stop talking about her and you. I’m happy for him.”
That mention of Trent doting on our baby sent a warm sensation coursing my spine. Okay… Maybe the inclusion of me played a part in it, too.
“You’re looking good in those Ase Garbs,” I noted while gazing down at his oxfords. “Is that a whole-cut derby? Oh, my god!” I breathed, covering my nose. “I love those! Trent wouldn’t let me order them for him. He’s so—urban!”
“He’s been looking good to me in all that Ase Garb and Gucci.” Ramsey winked.
“Yeah, but he’s so plain. My husband could wear gray sweats and fresh Timberland boots with a tee shirt every day and die a content man. I’ve been trying to explain his role as a model for these high-end brands.” I rolled my eyes dramatically, to which the couple laughed, Wil clasped onto Ramsey’s arm.
“He’s looking pretty urbane tonight,” Wil offered.
“That’s because he followed my instructions to a T. I wish I had more fashion-forward minds like you to dress, Ramsey. It would make my life easier.” I smiled, rolling my eyes again.
Ramsey had a different sports agent. Ironically, they were offered a contract by Ase Garb as well. I’d noticed Ramsey was a fashion divo himself. He always looked stately and clean no matter casual or formal wear.
Yeah… I see you Wil, girl…
As I smiled brightly at the handsome couple, behind my eyes reading their undeniable adhesiveness, something stirred in my soul. Admittedly, I knew nothing of their affair, but observing them in those few minutes as we chatted reminded me of how palpable good loving is. And not just sex: unadulterated love. Maybe they hadn’t crossed that bridge yet. I didn’t know. Perhaps those feelings had begun budding long before the admittance of it. Whatever it was reminded me of what I had with my husband.
I laughed as Ramsey told a story of a disagreement he’d gotten into with a head designer at Ase Garb, since his endorsement, about pattern and how fluid it is and can be paired with far more than the designer had been practicing. The light in Wil’s eyes as she gazed into his when he spoke… The glow they both shared being in such close proximity… I had that.
With my husband.
Darker thoughts would have me remember the look in Trent’s eyes as he smiled down on Brielle while holding her in his arms. Did they wear this glow once upon a time? Couldn’t have. I may have had my bouts with insecurity and feverish jealousy, but more than those features when it came to my husband, I recognized belonging. I belonged to that man. We may have been a fitful pair, but we belonged. It took us over twenty-five years to belong. But we did. To each other.
“Oh! You’re still here,” Elle noted as she walked up on us, her blonde curly hair unbelievably flawless, something I hadn’t noticed before, I was so flustered. “We have to get you off to the host of the night, Mrs. Bailey.” Her smile swept from me to Ramsey and Wil. Then she gave a faux pout to ask for forgiveness.
I reached for Wil’s hand that was clutched to Ramsey’s thick arm and squeezed.
“Promise me you’ll consider coming by for grilled food and a preseason game out on the deck before I deliver,” my voice was humbly exact, hoping she’d be open to it.
What these two didn’t know was, in just a few short minutes of our exchange, they’d revived my stamina to fight for a love I’d never known before Trent, but undoubtedly had since he opened his bedroom and heart to me willingly.
“Oh, without a doubt!” Wil breathed with wild eyes. “That’s if the princess doesn’t take the eviction notice personally and decide to leave before the applied date.”
A slow but excited smile spread on my face. I had possibly made a new friend. I hoped so. It would be good to gain another ally I could relate to when it came to the football and fame game.
I said my “see you laters” and took off at the guidance of Elle. We passed notable figures on the way: the governor of the state and his family, the CEO of Hotep Black Financial Bank, executives from Ase Garb, and Eli Richardson and his lovely wife, Mel. I was prepared to see Azmir Jacobs after seeing Eli. Those two usually rolled together f
or anything Connecticut Kings related. But I recalled his regret. He was out of the country all month with his family on a tour that had been set for nearly a year. The Jacobs’ regret was amply clear when their six-figure donation came through last month. I couldn’t Trent was connected to wealth like that.
My parents were present, reminding me they belonged to this realm of affluence. We chatted briefly as my mother picked over my hair, not believing it was all mine. The Bailey family wasn’t too far off. I bumped into Trick and his girlfriend first. His missing tooth grabbed my attention, but his humility in verbally approving the event stole my heart. Cora Mae and her crew were in tow. I loved their girlfriend-ship. They raved over the food and pure lavishness of the place. It filled my heart to see faces that were now familiar to me. People I felt a connection to, strangely enough. I ran into Lex, too. We did quick air kisses as she announced she needed the ladies room.
Pastor Carmichael had just stepped off for the podium, giving way to full view of the sexiest man alive. He stood next to a wall with his one hand tucked into the pocket of his trousers, broad shoulders stretched with virility. He wore the black shawl-collared tuxedo I advised and had even had someone apply the pointed style bow tie I insisted on to stick out against his beard. The only thing I enjoyed more than dressing Trent was removing every garment of his clothing.
That beard…
It was full and shaped with precision. It reminded me of how many of his alluring features I hadn’t seen in weeks. My hungry eyes fell away at the rush of blood to southern regions tingling feverishly. But I couldn’t look away for long. Like a moth to a flame, my regard magnetically pulled to him. Trent hadn’t moved, steeled in place statuesque like.
And his eyes. Oh, my… They spoke something. I hoped whatever it was, it was approving of me. I was only weeks away from delivering. And while I felt good and was still mobile, the fact remained I was very much pregnant and not an ideal bedroom fantasy.
