Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance

by Christina Clark

I whipped around, my nose wrinkling at Val's caustic tone. He handed me my Sprite and set his own Gatorade down on the visitor's sofa. I cracked open my soda, quenching my thirst before I tackled this.

  “I don't know, Nurse Hiro? We just met.”

  “Yeah? And what were you guys talking about?”

  “He was just giving me an update on Jackson... Why are you asking me this again?”

  “Really? 'Cause from where I was standing, it sure looked like the cocksucker was hitting on you.”

  “Watch your language,” I snapped, glancing over my shoulder at Jackson's sleeping face. “Don't be ridiculous. No one was hitting on anyone –”

  “You're right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” said Val. He slid his arms around my waist, pulling me in for another embrace. “I don't know where that came from. I just get a little defensive. Like I said, I really like you, Carrie. I just don't want anything to screw this up.”

  I was speechless. But as I felt the soothing warmth of his chest against my cheek, I hugged him back. Val was here for me, and that should have been the only thing that mattered. Besides, with what was going on, all our emotions were understandably on the fritz. Choosing to shake it off, I hugged Val tighter, breathing in the crisp fragrance of detergent on his sleeve.

  Chapter Thirty-Six: Kingsley

  Leaning against the brick wall behind me, I adjusted the height of my phone. I dragged 2 fingers apart on the screen, zooming in as I aimed it at the sushi place across the street. A young couple sat by the window in perfect view.

  The woman was a shining example of one of those high-maintenance diva types. She wore giant red sunglasses indoors and her hair was all done up like she was on her way to prom. It looked like a possum had curled up and died around her neck, too. The dope on the other end was just a random beefcake fuck boy. He wore a black V-neck that was way too small, and there was so much product in his hair it looked like you could sharpen a knife off it. Watching him feeding her raw eel across the table was doing something to the late breakfast I just downed 20 minutes ago, but this was good stuff. I snapped a couple of pictures, going crazy on the burst mode as I caught them touching tongues across the table.

  “What up, playa?”

  I turned my attention to the hot dog cart to my left. Beastly saluted me with a bun in each hand. His sketchy travel jacket with the multiple pockets, crass bling, and ripped jeans stood out like a black bean in a bowl of rice in this neighborhood. I slipped my phone back into my pocket and pulled up my hood.

  “Want a dog, dawg?” Beastly quipped. He tore into both hot dogs, chomping happily.

  “I'm good, thanks. Let's keep walking.”

  “Okay, but you're missing out, man.” Beastly fist bumped the vendor before catching up with me.

  I took him to an alley behind a Chinese restaurant, setting up shop on the stoops of an abandoned warehouse. By the time we sat down, Beastly had already scarfed down both buns. He wiped his greasy hands on the sides of his jacket and started rummaging around in his pockets.

  “You're in luck. One of my suppliers just got a shipment from Tijuana, and this shit gon' get you fucked up –”

  “I'm not looking to buy anything,” I stopped him before he could get too excited. “I just need to talk to you. But I could pay you for your time, if you want.”

  “Oh, okay. Naw, that's cool.” Beastly took his hands out of his pockets, laying them flat on the steps next to him. “You don't gotta pay me. We friends, right?”

  “For sure, man. So, you remember that chick you were talking about? The one that picks up arsenic?”

  “Oh, yeah, sure. That chick ain't right in the head. Don't know how she's still walking around free when one of my homeboys is locked up for a little dime bag,” said Beastly, shrugging. “She fine, though. What about her?”

  I took my phone back out of my pocket and loaded Jamie's Instagram.

  Hundreds of obnoxious selfies and pictures of Jackson filled the screen. The latest one was the most fucked up of them all. It was a filtered picture of a crying Jamie wearing more makeup than a drag queen, clasping Jackson's hand in hers. She made it a point to show off his hospital bracelet to the camera. Under the picture was the caption, “Plz pray for my baby. Trying to stay strong. Thanks for all the support. We love you all. #SingleMamaStruggles #TeamJackson #MommiesUnite.” And below that were links to her Snapchat and a Facebook fan page set up for Jackson.

  I scrolled through the nauseating pictures and found a random one of her facing the camera straight on.

  “Is this the girl?”

  Beastly sat up straight, his eyes widening. He clammed up and went pale, leaning forward to look up and down the empty alley. When he sat back down, he pushed my phone away and inched away from me.

  “I ain't no snitch, man.”

  “Listen to me, Beastly.” I scrolled to the next picture. It was one of Jackson in some kind of tree costume, posing with both thumbs up. I gripped Beastly's shoulder, forcing my phone in front of him. When I knew I got his attention, I swiped to the next picture of Jackson in his hospital bed. “You're right. That bitch is a fucking lunatic, because that's the dude she's been poisoning.”

  Beastly's shoulders slumped as he stared at the camera. The cloudy look in his eyes parted, slowly sobering up from whatever high he was on. Seeing the defeated look on his face, I put my phone down.

  “That's her son. He's 5 years old, man.”

  “I swear to you, I didn't know.” Beastly buried his face in his hands, rubbing his temples. “I don't ask any questions. That's why I'm good at my job – shit. What am I supposed to do? This shit is fucked up, yo. I can't rat her out –”

  “No, but I've got a feeling she's about to hit you up real soon for another refill.” I looked him square in the eyes. “And you let me know when she does –”

  “I don't know, man. I don't wanna get involved.” Beastly jumped to his feet, brushing off the dirt on the back off his pants. “I gotta run. This product ain't gonna move itself, know what I mean?”

  “Don't be stupid, Beastly. If the kid dies, his blood is on your hands.”

  As Beastly walked away from me, I cupped my hands around my mouth and hollered after him.

  “Think about what I said, bro!”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: Carrie

  “You know, you're missing back-to-back episodes of Alan the Architect.”

  Though I could see his chest rising and falling, Jackson's cheek felt so cold against my fingers. I dragged my chair a little closer to his bed, rubbing his arm gently. The catchy tune to the claymation cartoon on the TV filled the heartrending quiet of the room.

  “Alan and his team are building a new day care center for Kittyville.” The lump in my throat was making it impossible to keep the shakiness out of my voice. “And on the next episode, they're building a new town hall for – wait for it – Dino County!”

  I wasn't expecting a reaction, but his lack of a response only intensified the stinging in my chest. He looked so peaceful in his static slumber, I was afraid he'd made himself too much at home. I stared intently at his eyelids, just praying to anyone who would listen for them to peel back.

  Heaving a jagged breath, I leaned away from him. Torturing myself with useless hopes and wishes wasn't doing anyone any good. I needed to fight as hard as Jackson was fighting. But as I rocked back against my chair, I saw it. A startling dark red liquid dribbled down the tube connected to Jackson's urine bag.I reached over to the control panel on Jackson's bed instinctively, smashing the Nurse call button.

  Nurse Samantha sped into the room just a few seconds later. The front of her bun was sticking out with flyaways like she'd just rubbed a balloon over her head, and the ID hanging on her neck strap was flung over the side over her shoulder from her haste.

  “What's wrong, Carrie?”

  My brain was shorting in my panic, and no words were coming out of my mouth. All I could do was point at the urine bag under Jackson's bed. Nurse Samantha called out over her shoulde
r, summoning Dr. Wang and Nurse Hiro. Nurse Hiro laid a hand on my back gently, whispering some sort of encouragement in my ear before leading me out of the room.

  I watched the door close in slow motion, shunning me into the dark. My head was screaming with fear, seizing my temples hostage. I spun away from the scene, colliding face first with a hulking, powerful chest.

  I couldn't explain it; I didn't see his face, but I just knew who it was. Burying my face into his chest, I felt a solacing warmth course through me. His shoulders relaxed as he held me, raking his fingers through my hair. He said nothing. I said nothing. There were no tears, either. Time had paused just for a second, allowing me to breathe. Finally, I stepped back and gazed up at him.

  “Kingsley.”

  “What's going on?”

  “Saw some blood in Jackson's urine. Dr. Wang's in there checking on him right now.” I sounded more put-together than I actually felt.

  Kingsley nodded solemnly, looking around him.

  “Where's Jamie?”

  “I sent her home so she could take a proper shower and get some sleep on an actual bed.” I raised my eyebrows, blowing a raspberry. “It wasn't easy –”

  “Okay.” Kingsley rubbed his palms together, pacing. “Okay. I need to talk to you about something. It's important. Is there somewhere private we can talk?”

  I held onto one elbow as I led him to the emergency exit, pushing down on the heavy metal bar to gain access to the staircase. We wandered down the steps before settling on a secluded landing on the floor with the least activity. I rested my weight on one leg and leaned against a corner, hugging myself.

  “Okay, so bear with me here. I know how this is going to sound, but I've got proof –”

  “No.”

  “No...what?” Kingsley's sexy angled brows met together in his puzzlement.

  I wasn't sure what had gotten into me, nor was I proud of what I did next. Now, I could blame it on the fact that I'd only had 4 hours of sleep in the last 72 hours, but ultimately, it was on me. I was just so exhausted from paddling to keep my head above water, I was desperate for something that would make me feel good for a change. Even if it was just for a little while...

  “I'm serious, Carrie, you need to –”

  I literally pounced on him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and hooking my legs around his thighs for support. Kingsley staggered back in shock, but caught his balance against the drab gray wall of the fire exit. Our lips connected effortlessly. He was so strong and powerful, but his soft lips were so tender at the same time. My fingers scraped the edges of his jaw, almost as if my body itself knew how much I'd missed this.

  “Wait, Carrie, maybe we should –”

  “Don't say anything.” I slid off him. Walking over to the steps, I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down with my panties, not even bothering to take them off completely. I crawled up 3 steps and stuck out my bare ass at him, swaying my hips. “Just fuck me. Fuck me till every thought bleeds out of my mind...”

  Kingsley looked torn for a few seconds as he battled the thoughts in his head. But when his eyes pivoted to the pulsing mound between my legs, he charged towards me. He yanked down his pants, his smoldering eyes glued to the prize.

  I loved seeing how Kingsley's playful blue-gray eyes and charming features transitioned when he was in the zone. He squinched his eyes with an almost dangerous look of intensity, and his face darkened in his determination. I grabbed his cock, squeezing my hand up and down his veined shaft. He groaned, biting down one side of his lip as I fondled him ravenously.

  Letting go of his cock, I reached between my legs, prying my lips apart for him. He took a step back and dipped his head, molding my ass cheeks as he took a close-up view of my cunt. He inhaled deeply, dragging his trembling tongue across the length of my lips. I thrust my hip in his face. My elbows teetered across the edge of the step, struggling to hold on as he slurped me silly.

  While I rearranged my elbows, Kingsley rammed into me without warning. I threw my head back in surprise, my eyes squeezing shut as I felt every inch of his fat cock between my walls. He hiked up my shirt over my bra, digging his fingers into my hips. His cock pumped in and out of me with so much force I could feel his sweat dripping on the small of my back.

  Suddenly, Kingsley started slowing down. I was about to open my mouth in protest until he slipped one hand under my stomach, angling my hips upward. His wonderfully ill-fitting pole wasn't just squeezing in and out of my cunt. The head of his cock kissed against the budding ridge deep in my cunt.

  Kingsley paid close attention to my increasingly loud cries, reverberating down the emergency exit stairs. He thrust his full cock into me, keeping it there. Grinding his tip against the ridge, he gripped my sides forcefully to keep me from squirming. The flowering intensity of electric heat numbing my cunt and thighs sent my body convulsing in hiccuping shivers. I couldn't even make a sound, my moans falling mute behind my quivering chin.

  And when I couldn't hold it in any longer, I grasped onto the edge of the steps above me. What felt like an explosion of fluids dribbled out of my cunt, coating my thighs. With every drop dribbling out of me, my body softened in the sweet moment of debilitating ecstasy.

  “Hey! Who's there?”

  There was a loud bang of a slamming metal door, followed by squeaking footsteps padding up the steps below us. I jerked my head over my shoulder, exchanging alarmed looks with Kingsley. We scrambled to our feet, fixing ourselves up lickety-split before bolting up the stairs to the 8th floor.

  Nurse Samantha was in mid-conversation with Nurse Hiro when we spilled into the ward.

  “Sam-Samantha.” I sandwiched myself between the pair of nurses, catching my breath. “Is everything okay?”

  “Jackson stopped bleeding shortly after we arrived. None of his vitals seemed to be affected, so I wouldn't be too worried about it,” she replied reassuringly with a hint of a smile. “But of course, we're staying vigilant. You can return to his room, if you'd like.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  Kingsley followed me to Jackson's room. As I shuffled over to Jackson's side, the beeping monitors and TV in the background sank in once more. I sat back down on my chair, resting my arms over the bed railing.

  “So. I, um, sorta cut you off earlier. What were you going to tell me?”

  “Yeah.” Kingsley's skittish gaze landed on Jackson before he beckoned me towards him.

  I approached him cautiously, frowning.

  “If this has anything to do with Val again, I don't wanna hear it. But I'll have you know I did another background check on him and like I said, nothing came up. I can't even find any records of Xiao-Xin –”

  “No, but we'll talk about that later.”

  “Then, by all means. Shoot.”

  “So I was doing a little research –” Kingsley noted my cocked brow, shaking his head. “Not the time. You ever heard of MBPS?”

  “MPBS?”

  “Munchausen by proxy syndrome. It's like Munchausen, only it's when a primary caretaker causes deliberate harm to someone else for the attention or sympathy –”

  “I know what it means,” I interjected. Sweat began pooling in the lines of my palms. “Where are you going with this?”

  Kingsley rubbed his lip exasperatedly and took a step towards me.

  “You ever notice anything off about Jamie's social media?”

  “What do you mean?” I barked defensively, glimpsing at my feet. “So she likes to share, it's not a crime to –”

  I stopped, my fists slowly unfurling.

  “Are you – are you actually accusing my sister of –”

  “Look, I know it's a lot to hear, but I walked in on her the other night –” said Kingsley, raising his palms at me.

  “What? When were you even here? Jamie never said anything –”

  “Exactly.” Kingsley's wide eyes burned into mine. His words sounded so earnest, and I think that's what was freaking me out the most. “I saw her fucking with Ja
ckson's feeding tubes. She had a needle in her hands and everything –”

  “You're wrong. You must have seen something else, and now you're just blowing this out of proportion –”

  “Jackson's being poisoned with arsenic,” Kingsley spoke over me, determined to drive his absurd point home. “She's got it all figured out – she doesn't buy it on the market so she doesn't leave a paper trail. She gets it from a dealer and pays in cash. Trust me, I know what I'm saying here – I wouldn't just come to you without proof. I know the dude she gets it from –”

  “What's his name?” I challenged him icily, rising to my feet.

  Kingsley sucked in his lips, clearly aggravated.

  “I can't tell you that –”

  “Then you're full of shit.”

  “Carrie, I know this is a lot to handle, but you need to set aside the fact that she's your sister, and think about Jackson –”

  “Just stop, Kingsley.” I sneered, looking away from him disgustedly. “You don't know what you're talking about. I know Jamie can be a little over-emotional, but that's just how she is. She's a good mother. You don't even know her –”

  Right that moment, Kingsley's phone beeped twice with a new message. In our hurry, ¾ of his phone had been hanging out of his back pocket. As a result, the vibration pushed his phone out of his pocket and landed face-up on the floor.

  My eyes narrowed at the text of his new message.

  “'Are we still meeting at the Brunswick Lodge at 9? – I,'” I recited bitterly. “I? Who's – Ivanka?!”

  “Carrie –”

  “Go ahead, answer it. I mean, seriously? After everything –”

  “Carrie!” Kingsley yelled over me.

  “What? I'm talking...” But when I realized Kingsley wasn't looking at me, I craned my head over my shoulder.

  Jackson's eyes slowly fluttered open, his eyes shifting from side to side as they adjusted to the light.

  “Did – did Alan go to Dino County yet?”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Kingsley

  I pulled back the tap, refilling my bottle at the water station.