“Travis really is gay…” I mumbled that more to myself, but he heard it.
He shook his head. “No, I suppose my wording was confusing to you. He doesn’t like sex at all. He’s more or less…asexual. He tells me he can perform when he needs to but prefers not to. Although, he did say he grew to enjoy you…”
My mouth dropped open. What the hell did I almost marry into? “So, you think I would’ve just slept with you because you wanted me to? You must be out your damn mind!” I hissed.
“Oh, I know your type. You would’ve let me have you for the right price, and I planned to be very generous to you. Still will, if you’d like to enter into an arrangement with me now.” He spoke so softly, gently, as he insulted me.
I opened my mouth to curse him out in at least three different languages, not including English, but was interrupted by Travis-the-conniving-asexual. And to think, I still felt guilty about calling the wedding off!
“Judge, Mom is ready to—” He looked up, and noticing me, muted himself.
“You expected me to screw your father after I married you?!” I yelled.
Travis jumped a little. “That was you yelling back here? We were wondering what was going on. Couldn’t make out what you were saying over the godawful Mediterranean music they play here…”
“Answer my question, asshole! You thought I was gonna have sex with-with this?!” I pointed at the judge.
Travis’s eyes darted between me and his father, and then he clutched his forehead. “Uh, Judge…”
“You sonofabitch! You did! I can’t believe this!”
“Well, I can’t believe you left me for your best friend!” Travis gritted.
“Thank God I did instead of falling into this nasty-ass sex cult of yours!”
“The hell is going on?” That voice made my heart jump in my chest. Behind the judge stood Damon with his eyes glued to me. “Why do you look upset, Nick?”
“Nick,” Travis scoffed.
Damon’s eyes shot to Travis. “Excuse me?”
Travis cleared his throat and with a nod of acknowledgement, said, “Damon.”
Damon returned his nod, and said, “Ben Stone.”
Travis looked confused and opened his mouth to respond, then quickly closed it.
“Damon?” I said weakly, relief flooding me as his silly ass stepped beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
“Oh!” said Judge McClure. “You’re the fellow she left my boy for. Lucky man, from what I hear. Travis says she’s a tiger in bed. I would love to experience it for myself.” He winked at Damon, who lunged for him.
I grabbed him, and so did Angie and Renee, who’d appeared out of nowhere. All three of us struggled to keep his big strong ass off the judge. “Damon, don’t! He’s a judge. You don’t need that kind of trouble. Not now. Not when things are going so good for you. You’ve worked too hard to mess it up over him,” I begged.
“Listen to her, young man. You don’t want the trouble I can give you. She isn’t worth it.” The judge turned to leave with Travis on his heels.
“Oh, but I ain’t got shit to lose!” I kicked at him, and felt arms grabbing me now, heard my sisters yelling something, then felt my feet lift from the floor as Damon hoisted me up and began carrying me out of the restaurant.
*****
My mind raced as I sat in the passenger’s seat of Damon’s car with an array of emotions crowding me. I was relieved, freaking elated that I’d dodged that bullet, not that I would have ever slept with Judge McClure’s old crusty ass, but shit! The thought of him even thinking he could have some was nauseating. I might have been a ho’, but I was a selective one. I did not screw old men. And knowing that Travis went along with this disgusting plan? Now that pissed me off.
“What the hell was that back there, Nick?” Damon asked, his voice low, shaky. He was obviously still upset.
“Travis’s father cornered me when I was leaving the restroom, started saying all kinds of crazy stuff. Sexual stuff. You heard what he said right in front of you!”
His eyes shot from the road to me and back, but he didn’t respond.
“Evidently, he and Travis had a plan for him to keep me ‘satisfied,’” I said, making air quotes. “Because Travis is asexual.”
“I knew his ass wasn’t straight! I knew it!”
“He’s not gay either. He’s—shit, I don’t know or care, but I’m creeped the hell out by this plan they had, and I can’t believe he’d confront me in public like that. They’re so big on protecting their name.”
“You heard him. Asexual or not, A.D.A. Barba’s ass recognized you got that good-good and told his father, got him feenin’ for it. Nick, good pussy, or the prospect of some, can make a man forget how to think rationally. Believe me, I know.”
“I guess, but…”
“But what?”
I blinked back tears. “He basically said he knew I was a ho’. Like, he could just tell. What have I done? How could I put myself out there like that to the point that it was so obvious? I mean, I couldn’t even get mad about him saying it, because I was a ho’. A huge one.” My voice broke, and so did the damn. There my ass was, crying again.
Damon pulled the car over and reached toward me, wiping my wet cheeks with his hands. “That’s not who you are, Nick. It might’ve been what you did, but it’s not who you are. You’re beautiful, maybe a little crazy, but a good woman who has always been good to me…even when you were bad. Shit, especially when you were bad.”
I looked up to see him wearing a sly grin. “Stop playing,” I whined.
He pulled me as close to him as he could with the console between us. “Hey, I love you for who you are, no matter your past. I’ll always love you, Nick.”
“I love you, too.”
“Now, stop crying before I turn around and kick his old ass and end up in jail.”
I sighed and smiled at his crazy butt. “Okay…Hey, why’d you come to the restaurant?”
“I missed you, knew you rode with Angie, so I thought I’d surprise you and pick you up. Maybe do something nasty in the car on the parking lot, but that didn’t happen.”
“You were on the lot when you texted me?”
“Yeah, I didn’t see Angie’s car at first. Wanted to make sure you were still there.”
I looked down at my phone to find I’d missed his reply to my last text in the restaurant asking if he missed me. It read: I always miss ur ass.
I peered over at him, and said, “You’re everything, you know that?”
He grasped my hand and squeezed it. “So are you, baby.”
28
He kissed my forehead and frowned down at me. “You’re still warm. Fever hasn’t broken. I don’t wanna leave you, Nick. Maybe Theo can go by himself and—”
I shook my head and covered my mouth as I coughed. “You can’t do that. You’re the brains of the operation. He can’t do the interviews alone. They’ll want to discuss the story, not just the artwork, and no one can explain the story like you. Go. I’ll be okay. I promise.”
With a creased brow, he remained in place, squatting next to where I lay on his sofa. “I really wanted you to come with me this time.”
“I know, and I wanted to come, too, but I can’t, Dame. I can barely hold my head up. Just my dumb luck to get sick right before this trip.”
He sighed and nodded. “You sure you don’t wanna go to your mom’s or one of your sister’s? I don’t want you here alone. Who’s gonna take care of you?”
I smiled weakly. “I’ma take care of myself. I’m okay, and if I need anything, Angie and Ryan are right next door, since they’re home for once. Plus, I can call my mom for help, too. But I won’t need it.”
He finally stood, giving me a full view of his tall, beautiful body covered in black jeans, a Black Panther t-shirt, and black—you guessed it—Chucks. He walked across the room and pulled his jacket on, his concerned eyes never leaving me. “You got juice, that soup Angie made, your medicine…” His eye
s roamed the room. “Kleenex! You got enough Kleenex? Anything you want me to get you before I go? I can run to the store—”
“No, you can’t. Bye, Damon. Leave before you’re late getting to the airport.”
He sighed before leaning over to kiss my hot forehead again.
“Stop touching me before you get sick, too!”
“I don’t care about that. I’ll be checking on you. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
Then he left, and my heart twisted in my chest. It was just a quick turnaround trip to LA—two days of promo work for the comic, which was scheduled to launch on the Southside Strips site later that month. Damon and Theo were to do a couple of videos for McNooner’s YouTube channel and her comic website, as well as some interviews with a few popular YouTubers whose content was centered around the world of comics. Their itinerary was packed, and I was sad to miss this trip with him but couldn’t help it. I was sick, felt horrible, and didn’t have the energy to make the trip. Plus, if I did muster up the energy to accompany him, I knew I’d be a drag, more of a concern and a liability to him than anything else, and he needed to be able to focus.
I stayed at his place, honestly not wanting to share my germs with my family, but was grateful for Angie checking on me a few times after Damon left. And poor Damon must’ve texted and called me twenty times, feeling guilty about leaving me in this state, but I didn’t mind. My pride over his success overrode the emptiness I felt over his absence.
*****
“You sound tired,” I said, upon hearing the strain in Damon’s voice the next morning. “Long day yesterday, huh?”
“Yeah. That and the time change…and I didn’t sleep well.”
I turned over on my side in the bed, where I had migrated from the couch last night. “Why?”
“Worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m much better. I’m good, really. Fever broke. I even feel like eating again.”
“Really? That’s great, baby! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I miss the hell out of you.”
“I miss you, too. So, what’s on your agenda for today?”
“Uh, a meeting with Karyn McNooner and her staff, a couple more interviews, and some event tonight. A party, I think.”
“Hmm…well, be sure to post some pics from the event on IG. I’ll add some hashtags in the comments.”
“Nick, you’re sick. Don’t worry about Instagra—”
“I’m fine. Now, do what I said or I will screw you numb when you get home.”
He laughed for a good minute, causing a smile to spread across my dry face.
“That’s supposed to be a threat? You’re a damn lunatic, Nick.”
“I know.”
After our call ended, I dragged myself from the bed to the shower, dressed, ate some of Angie’s soup—our grandmother’s special recipe—and drank a ton of orange juice as I watched TV before drifting off to sleep.
I awoke several hours later to the TV watching me and shut it off. I smiled when I saw the bottle of water and unopened package of cough drops sitting on the coffee table, indicating Angie had been over to check on me while I slept. Checking my phone, I noticed two missed calls from Damon. I must’ve been damn near comatose to miss a visit and two phone calls!
Sitting up, I navigated to my text messages to find one from Damon:
I tried to call. Talked to Angie and she said u were sleep. Heading to this party but wishing I was with u. Text me when u get this and let me know how ur feeling. Love u.
It was after midnight in Romey, but not too late in LA, so I replied: Sorry I missed ur calls baby. Feeling good enough to climb ur fine ass. (Water droplets emoji) Call me when u can. Love u.
I was grinning as I clicked on the Instagram icon on my way to the bathroom. I checked my account first, then Angie’s, Genesis’s, Zo’s two accounts, and finally, Damon’s. I hadn’t had the strength to check on them over the past couple of days. I frowned when I saw all the notifications he had. Tons of them. What the hell had he posted?
I went to his page, saw a pic of him in his hotel room wearing his usual attire of jeans and a t-shirt. You could see the tattoos on his arms, mostly Korean alphabetical characters, and yeah, he was handsome and sexy as hell, but he didn’t even hashtag it and the pic only had twenty likes. I kept checking his account and found that he’d been tagged in three or four photos. After I clicked on them, the air seemed to vacuum from the bathroom. I finished my business, washed my hands, and quickly headed to the bedroom, plopping down on the side of the bed, my eyes glued to the phone.
Missy Mae, his ex, the only woman other than me he’d ever cohabitated with, had tagged him in four pictures. The first was a picture of him taken from a distance in what looked like a night club. The caption read: Look who I found! Be still my heart! #hemakesmyheartrace
Then another pic taken from a distance. Damon was smiling, engaged in a conversation with some guy. This time, the caption read: Should I say something to him? #helpme #yesorno #damhesfine
My eyes blew the hell up as I scrolled down to see the comments encouraging her stalking ass to approach my man. And this ho’ knew he was mine, because she still followed him on IG, as evidenced by her tagging him. She’d seen the pics of us he’d posted. Hell, her thirsty ass had even liked some of them.
The third picture was a selfie of her biting her bottom lip with her eyes wide. Damon could be seen in the background, still in the distance, unaware of her creepy ass. The caption read: Here goes! Why am I so nervous?! #damonisbae #stillinlovewithhim
The fourth picture made my blood run cold and my head begin to throb. My entire body trembled as I held my phone and stared at it. It was a photo of her snuggled up close to Damon. They were both smiling widely, her head resting on his shoulder contentedly. I could tell they were sitting down. They looked…happy. Hell, they looked like they were in love. She captioned this picture: Together again. Feels like we were never apart. #reunited #trueloveneverdies #newbeginnings #imgettingsometonight
The comment section was full of fuckers cheering this bullshit on.
And the tons of notifications? They were from other people reposting the pics and tagging him in them.
My first thought was to catch the first flight to LA and beat both their asses then come back here and fuck up everything Damon owned, pour bleach on his laptop and his clothes. In pajama pants and a thin tank top, I shoved my feet into a pair of sneakers and stomped into the living room, stopping to send a text to Damon: Ima make you wish you never met my ass! I hope that bitch is worth it!
Then I snatched my keys up from the coffee table and raced out into the frigid January air. I paid no mind to the fact that I was recovering from an illness, had on no coat, and my hair was all over my head. I had some emergency ass-kicking to do. Once in my car, I realized I didn’t have my purse, and that’s when I broke down, laying my head on the steering wheel and crying like a baby. How could he do this to me after I gave him my damn heart? How could he betray me, hurt me again?
The rational part of my brain tried to reassure me that it was just a photo. Probably harmless, but I had to wonder what made her bold enough to tag him in that shit and put those captions under those pictures. The bitch alluded to screwing him tonight, and she tagged him in it! So that meant he knew about it. How could he let her do that when he had my face plastered all over his page? This shit was embarrassing and hurtful as hell. He hadn’t even called or texted to explain. I guessed he was…busy.
With her ass.
Was this my karma? Was I finally getting my payback for all the shit I’d done?
My heart felt like it was going to split in half, the pain unbearable as I wailed loudly in the confines of my car. I’m not sure how long I was out there. I just remember Angie appearing at the driver’s side door, opening it, and coaxing me outside. As she wrapped her arm around me and led me to her side of the duplex, I ignored the continuous calls that finally came from Damon.
29
&n
bsp; I was wound so tight, I could’ve run home from the airport. That shit Missy pulled was foul. All up in my face, grinning, saying she missed me and hated we weren’t at least friends. I was cordial, smiled, spoke to her, and moved on. I had no idea she’d been posting pictures of me all night with those captions and hashtags, because my phone died while I was at the party. I’d forgotten to charge it, but didn’t plan on being there long enough for it to matter.
After leaving the event McNooner wanted me and Theo to attend, a small mixer for her employees, Theo asked if we could drop in at a party one of the chicks who worked at Southside Inc. told him about, some chick he was trying to bone behind Onika’s back. I honestly didn’t want to do anything but head back to the hotel and call Nicky, then crash. But I agreed for some stupid-ass reason.
Once there, I met some cool people. It was a birthday party for a popular YouTuber. Missy was also a YouTuber, but since we had lost touch, I had no idea she was in the states, or in LA, or would be at the party. Hell, I didn’t know she’d followed me to a couch until I felt her body heat damn near on top of me, and even then, I tried to ignore her. I didn’t realize she was taking a selfie with me at first, because I was laughing at something Theo said. When I realized what was going on, she was posting the pic, and when I asked to see what she was doing, her childish ass started giggling and holding her phone behind her back. I had to use Theo’s phone to see what she’d done, and I knew if Nicky saw those pics, my ass was grass.
So I cursed Missy out.
I mean, I know it was messed up how we broke up, and I was sure this was her revenge or whatever, because when I returned to Korea after that visit to Romey, I was no good to Missy, barely touched her. When she asked what had changed, I admitted to her the reason was Nicky. Maybe I was too honest with her, letting her know if there was ever a time I had to make a choice, I would choose Nicky. Always. I thought I was doing the honorable thing but didn’t account for the fact that while my relationship with Missy didn’t mean much to me, just like any interaction I had with women who weren’t named Nicky Strickland over the years, Missy was actually in love with me. And she knew about me and Nicky, because she asked about us at the club, asked me how we were doing together. I told her we were good. So yeah, she did what she did on purpose.
Be with Me (Strickland Sisters Book 3) Page 18
