Our Muted Recklessness (Muted Hopelessness Book 2)

by Love Belvin

  My pulse now hard in my neck, shoulders feeling weak, I tried pushing back. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be wondering how you even found me. Stalker human, much?”

  Renata or Toya snickered behind me, I didn’t know which one. But it was clear Ashton didn’t like that.

  He peered over my head, face breaking into a dangerous grin. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” they sang in soprano.

  “I’m Ashton. I go to school with Tori. We play sports.”

  “You a boxer?” Treesha’s dumb ass asked.

  A sheet of air from Ashton’s snort hit my face. “She thinks she can take me, but nah. I run the ball.”

  “Oh, you!” Renata chirped. “Ohhh! Okay.”

  His face rolled down, one brow peaked. “Yeah,” he droned. “Mee.” If he thought I spilled one word of the crazy shit that had happened between the two of us over the past two weeks, he was stupidly mistaken. I was not that girl, and my cousins knew it. “Where’s dinner? Are you done eating?” His eyes lifted above my head again, into the kitchen.

  “No. We just got back from picking up the food,” Treesha explained. “Y’all want in?”

  My eyes closed, embarrassed. Treesha had no idea how much of a snob this guy standing in her living room was. Of course, she didn’t; he was all Newark this evening with the big guy behind him who was big enough to kill with one hand.

  “No,” I gritted.

  His face roved down to mine again. “Okay.” He smiled. “Well, it’s time to go. I haven’t eaten yet, and my momma ain’t happy about it.”

  “Ooh!” Toya mumbled, though we could all hear it.

  I knew it was her because she’d always do it when egging on a fight. It’s how she reacted when someone got one off on another or when she wanted to gas them up to.

  My eyes closed and I took a deep breath to prepare myself. Finally, I turned to the girls.

  “I guess I won’t need that ride after all. I’m gonna go.”

  “Where you going, Tori?” Renata was shocked.

  “With me to eat,” Ashton answered, showing his arrogance.

  “I’ll call you later,” I assured my cousin before starting for the door.

  “You need to go home to get your—” Ashton stopped when he saw me grab my duffle right by the door.

  I’d left my mother’s trailer first thing this morning, only washing up in the sink and changing my clothes. I was out the door before she was for work. I brought my things with me to my aunt’s trailer and I had been with my girls since. There was no way I’d go back to my mother’s and risk running into Paul.

  After rolling my eyes at bossy ass Ashton, I stepped outside.

  Chapter Seven

  -THEN-

  I covered my mouth from a harsh yawn blowing through my palm. Tired, my eyes blinked and watered, but no way was I wasting a second of being alert. Where were we going? My cousin, Renata, called my cell again on this trip up the Parkway, but I ignored it. Her first call came through when we were still on the Turnpike. I’d call her once we stopped and I could tell her where I was.

  The big guy, June, hadn’t moved an inch as he drove at full speed. And Ashton’s attention in the passenger seat went between the road and his Blackberry. Music blasted in the car that smelled of leather, weed, and old school gangsta. All sleepiness disappeared when we pulled into a busy city. Even for Thanksgiving night, the streets were packed with people moving in slow speed, not looking to go anywhere in particular. I sat up when we pulled into a garage that seemed more like a parking building. We stopped at a barrier gate and when June swiped a card against the small box near the driver’s side, it opened and we drove inside.

  June glided into a parking space and cut the engine. Ashton was opening my door as my eyes followed the big guy to the trunk. I stepped out, holding his hand.

  “Welcome to Newark,” he announced with humor in his eyes. “Have you ever been here?”

  I nodded. “I had a couple of fights in Newark. Told you that.”

  “Good. Let’s go eat.” Still holding my hand, he took my duffle June handed to him from the trunk.

  We walked over to the door inside the garage. Inside a glass booth was a security guard with a gun as he stood, using the phone. He hit a button and buzzed us inside the building.

  “You eat yet, Jim?”

  “Yup. A few hours ago, Spence.”

  “I’ll send a plate of desserts down,” Ashton informed without slowing toward the elevator.

  The building was…clean. Nice, actually. Clean carpet with a fancy design. The paint smelled new and the walls looked smooth. The elevator opened and Ashton invited me to step on first, finally letting my hand go. I hated losing his touch and hated myself for the emotion. He and June followed behind.

  On the ride up, June mumbled, “‘Bout to fuck up ‘bout two plates. She better have my shit ready, too.”

  Ashton chuckled. “Thanks for this, Ock.”

  “No doubt. Wasn’t ‘bout to have you out there with no protection. Fuck that,” he graveled.

  The doors opened and I followed them down the hall to an apartment door June opened without a key. Before I crossed the threshold, a robust aroma of soul food wafted over me and my stomach grumbled.

  “Nish!” June shouted, cutting a left into the living room. “I’m back. Hungry as fuck. Get my shit!”

  Kids running down the hall had me backing into the wall behind me. Ashton laughed.

  “Rusty, don’t make her fall!” he barked, amused by the two little ones taking off.

  “You back?” A pregnant woman with long lashes, a thick cable sweater, and brown Ugg boots appeared in the hall, holding a plate of pie asked.

  “Yeah. I told you I would be, girl,” Ashton joked.

  The woman smiled at me as she moved along. I could tell she felt awkward about not having an introduction by the way she ducked her head, but I was relieved by it. From the sounds above the music playing, I could sense this place was packed. Maybe this was a bad idea.

  A young guy, shirtless and with a game controller in one hand, neared the foyer to go into the opposite direction. He held a cup in his right hand and his face lit up when he saw Ashton.

  “Yoooooo! Ashton, I just spanked Junior’s ass in Madden! I stopped the run on ‘im.”

  Ashton raised his fisted arm to an arch. “My G.” He praised him, widening his smile even more before he turned to leave.

  “There you are!” a rich, throaty, and commanding voice carried in the foyer. A woman, holding a wine glass in the air, stood with her mouth open and brows meeting. “You leave out of here for five hours before I serve my damn Thanksgiving dinner, and return at night? I ain’t think you were coming back.”

  “I told you I’d be back.” Ashton kissed her cheek, ignoring the burning heat shooting from the angry woman. “Had to pick up a fellow-Panther.”

  Mouth even wider, she asked, “A fellow what?” Her confused eyes latched on to me.

  Ashton laughed, pulling her into his chest for a side hug affectionately. “Nothing. Ma, this is Tori McNabb. Tori, this is the illustrious Wanda Lee.”

  His mother…

  Nervously, I nodded. “Nice to meet you.” I tried smiling, even though I was scared as shit.

  I’d pulled her son away on the holiday.

  Wanda looked me up and down. Great… It was weird, though. I didn’t get wealthy snob from her the way I had everyone else attached to Ashton—except for his uncle, June. But judging by how many times her eyes dipped up and down my frame, I could tell she felt some kind of way about me that wasn’t welcoming.

  “Mmmhmmmm…” was all she said at first.

  Ashton laughed again, totally unaffected. “Be nice, Ms. Wanda.” He dipped to kiss her cheek again. “I’m going to toss her luggage in my room. Then I’ll be ready to grub. You better not had let them eat all of the lobster gumbo.”

  While staring at me suspiciously, she answered him. “The first pot went in thirty minutes.”

  “Ma
!” Ashton’s face lifted, mouth balled tightly.

  She swatted her free hand in the air, still looking at me. “You know I stashed more than enough for you!”

  “The best!” Ashton mumbled, kissing her again. “Oh, and send Jim some desserts down,” he ordered before taking off for the back of the apartment.

  “You from Newark?” Wanda asked while gaping at my shoes.

  I shook my head before remembering to speak. “Umm… No.”

  “You on birth control?” My eyes mushroomed and my head bounced. I was stunned into silence. “I asked you a question, young lady,” she demanded.

  “Ashton has a girlfriend, Miss.” So stupefied, I couldn’t remember her name in that moment.

  “She’s already answered the question.” Her head dropped to the side. “Now, I’m asking you.”

  I lied and nodded. It felt like I held my breath for an eternity until she turned and walked off after someone called her twice.

  “Tori!” Ashton barked. I moved around the corner and saw he was down the hall, outside a doorway. “Come wash your hands.”

  I moved on wobbly legs. He was inside the bathroom, washing his hands.

  “You think it’s cool for me to be here?”

  Ashton’s attention went to the mirror to look at me. “Why you look like that?” Then he froze, cracking a grin seconds later. “Did she ask you how often you go to the GYN?”

  I shook my head. “Deeper into that visit. She asked if I was on birth control.”

  Ashton’s head dropped back and he howled hard, laughing. Suddenly, he stopped, brows meeting with curiosity. “Well, are you?” My eyes ballooned again from that unexpected question. “Don’t shit your pants. I’m just fuckin’ with you, Tori!” He continued cracking up. “But my mom wasn’t.”

  I fell into the wall. “I think I should go.”

  “Nah. You’re good. She’s cool, I swear.” He moved over for me to wash my hands. “What was your answer?” He ripped a paper towel from the roll on the wall.

  I shrugged. “I lied, just wanting the interrogation to be over.”

  Ashton couldn’t stop laughing. That helped ease my raging nerves, and it didn’t. He handed me a paper towel.

  “You don’t have to lie, but don’t stay on her bad side for the next eighteen hours: she already put you there by default.”

  “Why?”

  His face straightened. “Because she senses it.”

  I gulped in air and whispered hard, “What?”

  “About us.”

  I leaped closer to him. “You told her about—”

  He shook his head, eyes rolled. “Of course, not.”

  “Then what? What does she know?”

  Ashton stepped out of the fancy bathroom with striped cranberry and white walls and gold trimming. “Clearly something you don’t.” He tossed his head. “Grub time. I’m starving. You ready to eat?”

  Confused and embarrassed by the fact, I nodded. He pulled me roughly by the wrist, hardly allowing time for me to toss the paper towel in the trash before being dashed into the hall. We ran into human bodies at every turn. The place was packed and…luxurious. That was the Ashton I knew. Nothing was ordinary about him. That was until I paid attention to his family. They were regular people I didn’t know, but was familiar with.

  When we reached the kitchen, Ashton handed me a large plate that wasn’t plastic, which made me wonder if it was china. Ashton was a china type of guy. At least a dozen people were around the countertop shaped like a peninsula and kitchen table.

  “Everybody, this is Tori.” His face was toward a wooden basket filled with forks, spoons, and knives. “Tori, this is my bomb ass, annoying ass, I-can’t-do-shit-without-my family.” His voice was strong, projected, and with authority. “Now, everybody, say hi to Tori.”

  As we turned to leave the kitchen, they all shouted out of turn, but friendly, “Hey Tori.” Or “Hi, Tori.” And it came from inside and outside of the kitchen.

  Giggling nervously, I returned, “Hey, Ashton’s bomb ass, annoying ass, I-can’t-do-shit-without-my family.”

  They laughed and Ashton turned back to me with a playfully annoyed grin. “Come on.”

  We moved into the packed dining room. Most of the chairs were occupied, but dinner was obviously done. But the food was still there on display, buffet style, against the wall. The turkey, ham, chicken, and what looked like meatloaf all looked good. We fixed our plates in silence. I forced myself to ignore the long stares, figuring it was because of the obvious. I was not Aivery Cooper. Ashton’s girlfriend had to have spent loads of time with these people. I understood. Apparently, they respected Ashton enough not to mention it.

  He didn’t give them time to. After our plates were packed with food, we moved into the living room where space was made for us on the sofa. Ashton had his cousin grab us tray tables. Another older relative was asked to get our drinks, and did so dutifully. His mother, Wanda, served us both bowls of lobster gumbo without another harassing word or nasty look to me. They all seemed to cater to and adore him. It was clear by the conversation they engaged in with Ashton while watching the Kings play the Giants. June was in there with a thick woman leaning over him from the arm of his chair. She was pale with bright red lipstick as her attention locked into the screen while June ate between two plates. I figured she was Nisha.

  “Run the ball!” June shouted.

  “Run it!” another man I didn’t know followed up with.

  Ashton shot to his feet. “C’mon, Evans! Come on, baby!” He smacked his hands together loudly.

  I may not have known much about football, but I did know Ashton worshipped Tariq Evans of the Kings. I tried ignoring him, devouring my food. Everything tasted so good, I begged myself not to embarrass myself. I’d never had gumbo before. It was banging! As I ate, I observed the wall. There were so many pictures of Ashton at different ages in different sized frames, but so coordinated, it looked like a museum of Ashton and friends.

  This was surreal, being in Ashton Spencer’s home. His real home, not his dorm. I wondered if he grew up here or moved into the apartment later in his childhood. There was so much I didn’t know about Ashton, like who was his father? Did he have brothers and sisters?

  Did he have lots of girlfriends before Aivery?

  I hated how I obsessed over her, but knew it came from inappropriate thoughts of him. I thought of him way too much. And when you thought of a guy the way I thought of Ashton, you couldn’t leave out the very important fact that he had a girlfriend.

  We finished eating and watched the Kings lose. Ashton moped for a little while like I’d seen him do after a Panthers’ loss. Only, he wasn’t the leader in Connecticut, only at Blakewood. He didn’t talk as much to his gang of cousins, but he wasn’t rude. I found it…cute. Once, I’d even bumped his arm to wake him out of his mood. He responded by yanking my ponytail back.

  “I’m gonna go call my cousin back and let her know I’m good,” I shared, standing.

  “I’ll be here.” Ashton pulled his phone from his pocket.

  Going to the door, I weaved through people tall and short, trying to remain invisible and away from Wanda. Once in the hallway, I walked a few feet before stopping.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey!” Renata barked. “You good?”

  I laughed. “Yeah. Why you worrying?”

  “Because I ‘on’t know him. And he came bustin’ up here with that big dude like they run thangs.” I heard someone speaking in the background. “Yeah!” Renata shouted even louder. “Treesha said why you ain’t tell us he was so fuckin’ bomb?”

  I stilled, confused. “What?”

  “The Ashton dude. You said he was preppy and the most popular guy on campus, but you ain’t said he look good. Shit! You said cute. That nigga fine time past cute! Yo, that beard had my damn panties screaming. You ain’t say none of that shit.”

  Because he already knows!

  Rolling my eyes, I laughed, “He ain’t all that. Don’t
swell the boy’s head.”

  “Treesha said you better fuck him. She would. Hell, I would, too!”

  The apartment door opened and guys started piling out, trailing to the exit down the hall. When I saw Ashton shoulder through, holding two bottles of Corona, I knew it was time to go.

  “I gotta go, Renata.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know.” Had no idea where I’d be staying tonight. “I’ll let you know either way, but my flight leaves at two tomorrow anyway.”

  “A’ight. Tell Ashton I fuck and suck and do whatever the fuck he want!” She hooted into the phone. I could hear Treesha cackling with her just before hanging up.

  “Time for me to go?” I asked as Ashton approached me, handing me a bottle.

  “No.” His face tightened and lips pouted as though I’d said something ridiculous. “Going to shoot dice.”

  I followed him down the hall, picking up speed to keep up. We went into the exit and dropped down a few levels.

  “She said the first floor,” Ashton shouted to the guys in front.

  We ran down several flights before they gathered near a door leading into a hallway when someone tossed out dice. Immediately, fingers snapped, money was being pulled from pockets, and shouting began. Ashton was in the middle of five other men, talking shit about his game and flirting with the small, dotted cubes.

  Once I realized the event taking place before me, I slowly sank down to sit on a step. But I was confused. I’d seen dice games happen on a corner, and heard of some in project hallways from Ragee. But I’d never seen one in a luxury apartment building; it didn’t matter that we were in Newark. The building was secured with an armed guard. These weren’t project apartments, I knew that from being inside just one. Yet and still, the guy with the tattoo on his face lit up a spliff and passed it to all except for Ashton.

  Who was I to question their actions? I sat back and sipped on my beer as I witnessed a whole other side of Ashton Spencer. There was nothing familiar about the preppy boy at BSU. He wasn’t even the “leader” here he had to be at school. This was not the snobbish, highbrow classmate being a human pamphlet for our esteemed HBCU. Ashton was just a son, nephew, and cousin. He was a guy from Essex County, New Jersey, who could afford the Blakewood experience, I guessed. But even seeing him in this urban element, you could still see the light in his eye, reminding you of how special he was.