No Tears with Him

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No Tears with Him Page 15

by K. Webster


  Mal, eager to take yet another person for a ride, pops out of his chair. He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “We’ll be back in twenty. I’ll grab you something disgusting with lots of vegetables and juicy meat.”

  “Yum,” I say with a grin. “You know I love juicy meat.”

  “Hey, fuckers, no one wants to hear your sex talk,” Wendell complains, making us both laugh.

  They both leave and I lean back in my chair, lost in thought. I feel like for a week straight all I’ve done is live in the conference room. I’m tired as hell and could use a vacation. My world has been turned upside down knowing that Wade has been moving money out of my accounts into his own, but I’m going to get it back. I’ll make that motherfucker pay restitution for what he’s taken from me.

  I sit up and start reading through my bank statement again. This one from sixteen months ago. Just highlighting anything for Tom that stands out to me so he can investigate it further. I’m lost in thought when someone walks in.

  “That was fast, babe,” I say without looking up. “I know you love Taco Bell but give a man a break.”

  He doesn’t respond. When I look up, my smile fades when I see a beautiful black woman standing in the doorway to the conference room. Her black hair is sleek and hangs just past her shoulders. Dark brown eyes flit over to me, hard and assessing. She’s gorgeous, but slightly intimidating in her power suit wearing a severe glare.

  “Oh,” I croak out, rising. “I’m sorry. I thought you were my boyfriend. Can I help you with something, ma’am?”

  Her nostrils flare. “Are you Scott Hawkins?”

  Nodding, I stride over to her, offering my hand.

  Whap!

  I’m so stunned by the slap, all I can do is gape at her. She slaps me again, harder, making me stumble back in shock. “What the hell, lady?” I snap, rubbing my face with my palm.

  “You sick monster,” she sneers.

  “What?”

  “I know what you are. What you did. With my son.”

  I blink several times. Those eyes. His eyes. Oh, fuck. “Ms. Shaw—”

  “I’m talking,” she yells. “And you’re gonna hear me out, by God.” Her body trembles with fury. “I got a horribly embarrassing interruption at work today. Your colleague, Wade, paid me a visit. Filled me in on what you’ve been doing to my son.”

  I glower at her. “You shouldn’t listen to a damn thing that man says.”

  “Why? Because you’re hiding the fact that you’re a grown-ass man preying on my boy? That you lured him in with your money and cars and fancy phones so you could turn him into a homosexual?” Her voice is shrill.

  “I didn’t turn him—”

  “I said you will listen to me,” she bellows. “That boy is soft and you had no right to swoop in and undo years of hard work on my end. His daddy left him and I had to make him hard so he could grow up to be a real man. But no. You went off and ruined him!”

  “Listen, lady,” I snarl, straightening my spine. “Your son is fucking perfect the way he is. You’re the one who was ruining him with your cruelty.”

  She winces slightly at my rebuttal. “You will break things off with him. You will end his employment with you. And you will stay the fuck away from my son or you’ll regret the day you took your first breath on this earth.”

  “Fuck no,” I bite out. “I love him.”

  Whap!

  The bitch nails me again with her slap. I’m about to call the fucking cops when I hear his voice. Mal. Sweet Mal. Oh, God. He rushes over to us and steps between us.

  “Do not touch him,” he says coolly to her. “Do not ever touch him.”

  Her eyes widen at his tone. “He’s brainwashed you, Malcolm!”

  “Mom,” he hisses. “I love him. You can’t change that. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner that I’m gay, but—”

  He doesn’t get the words out because she slaps him, knocking his glasses clean off his face. I’m about to get in her face when Wendell grips her shoulders from behind and gently guides her away.

  “Time to leave, ma’am. You’re not welcome here.”

  Mal scrambles to grab his glasses and then storms out after her. “Apologize, Mom. Apologize to my fucking boyfriend!” he screams, a sob in his broken voice. “You have no right to treat him that way!”

  She especially has no right to treat him that way.

  “I don’t even know who you are anymore, boy,” she mumbles before rushing out of the building.

  Mal chokes on his emotion and then throws himself into my arms. “Oh, God, Scott. I’m so sorry.”

  I hug him tight, kissing his head. “Shhh, don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re perfect. My perfect Mal.”

  Wendell leaves us in peace as we hold each other.

  I guess Mal’s secret is finally out.

  Fuck.

  Malcolm

  We’re both emotionally raw. Yesterday, after everything that went down with my mom, I came home with Scott. I’m not sure I even have a place at my house any longer, not that I want it. She was out of line. It’s one thing for her to take her anger out on me. But Scott? My blood boils when I think of the way she treated him.

  I snuggle up against Scott’s warm, naked body. He sleeps heavily and I’m glad. After his hellish week, he needs the rest. Plus, I can selfishly hold him and adore him quietly. When we made love last night, I assumed it’d be rough and claiming, but he was so sweet. Worshipful even. I can’t quite comprehend why he loves me so much, but he does. And I love him. I feel whole with him. Like I was always missing a vital piece of myself. He held it in his hands the entire time.

  At some point, I’ll need to get up and run my sisters to school. Just because Mom threw a bitch fit, it doesn’t mean I can’t still do something nice for them. They were just starting to respect me and enjoy spending time with me, even if I did have to bribe them with Divina. And after I drop them off, I’ll go back home to pack up my shit.

  “You’re thinking loudly,” Scott says, his voice scratchy from sleep.

  I smile against his chest and run my thumb over his nipple, making it pebble beneath my touch. “Thinking about all the crap I have to do.”

  “Another day, more bullshit, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “How much do you think Sorro’s rent is?”

  Scott nudges my shoulder, making me roll off him. He sits up on his elbow on his side wearing a worried frown. “Why?”

  My brows pinch together. “I’m pretty sure my mother kicked me out. If not, I can’t live with someone who doesn’t support who I love.”

  He runs his fingers down the length of my arm, his intense green eyes boring into me. “I thought you could move in here. With me.”

  I blink several times in shock. “You want me to move in with you?”

  “And have you in my bed every night? Hell yeah.” He leans in and kisses me. “But only if you want.”

  “I want,” I say with a cheesy grin. “I really want.”

  He smirks. “Good. Now get your ass over here so I can hold you before I have to get up for work.”

  I give him a devilish smile. “Or…” I push him onto his back and kiss the middle of his chest, my eyes locked with his. “You could stay right there and let me show you how much I love you.”

  A low groan escapes him as I kiss my way down to his cock.

  “We could do that instead,” he mutters, choking on his words the moment I choke on him.

  No one’s home when I get to Mom’s after dropping the girls off at school. I thank God for that small blessing and rush into the house with a few boxes I snagged on the way over. It doesn’t take long to pack up my clothes, my boombox, my Super NES console and games, and the posters on my wall. I toss my favorite pillow into a box and my bathroom toiletries before sitting on the bed trying to decide about what to do with my computer.

  Mom bought it for me.

  But everything I know came from that computer. It was the one thing she d
id for me that helped shape who I am today. Sure, Scott would buy me a new one. Hell, I could buy myself one. I don’t want another one. I want this one. I’m still debating when I hear the front door open. Panic shoots through me as I rush over to the window. Madden’s car sits in the street in front of the house.

  Great.

  I let out a heavy sigh before plopping down on the bed, ready to face the music. Madden fills the doorway, a scowl on his face.

  “Hey,” I utter lamely.

  He grunts. “Hey.”

  “So, I guess you heard.”

  “I guess I did.”

  I look down at my khakis, noticing a dirt smudge. I try to wipe it off to no avail. The desk chair creaks as Madden sits down. He looks like a giant sitting in the small chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “You’re really moving out, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where?” His brows knit together in a concerned way that has me faltering.

  “I, uh, you heard that Mom and I got into a fight, right?”

  He nods slowly. “I did.”

  “Did she tell you about what?”

  “That her precious boy is now a flaming homosexual?” he deadpans.

  I wince. “Sounds exactly like how she’d explain it.”

  “How do you explain it?”

  “Love,” I whisper. “I met Scott and we fell in love. Plain and simple.”

  His brows deepen as he scrutinizes me. I don’t squirm under his intensity. Not about this. Never about Scott. I’m not ashamed of him or us.

  “Plain and simple, huh?”

  “I can’t really explain it,” I say with a wave of my hand. “I always knew I didn’t quite connect with girls, but Mom has her beliefs and I never wanted to disappoint her. I didn’t date because of it. Didn’t feel comfortable forcing the feelings with a girl or experimenting with a guy.”

  “Until Scott.”

  I smile as my heart rate quickens. “With Scott it just came naturally. We just connected, right from the get-go. He made me feel worthy and important. And now he makes me feel loved.”

  The chair creaks as Madden leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re loved here too, Mal.”

  My eyes water at his words, but I quickly blink them away. “Mom is so hard on us.”

  His brown eyes glimmer with sympathy. “Especially you,” he admits. “I should have done better to shield you from that. Sometimes…sometimes I felt like I could only do so much, you know?”

  I do know. Madden has always played the part of fill-in dad around here, so that had to have been hard in its own way.

  “You did what you could,” I assure him.

  “For the record,” he says, his voice husky. “I don’t have a problem with your sexuality.”

  I let out a ragged breath. “Really?”

  “I have friends who are gay.”

  My eyes bug out of my head. “W-What? Really? Who?”

  “Some guys I met in college. A few from the Bengals. It’s not as uncommon as you think.” He scratches at his beard and leans back in his chair, making it groan in protest at his massive size. “And, with you, I kind of always suspected it.”

  “How?” I demand. “I barely knew it for myself.”

  He snorts. “What other straight man listens to Destiny’s Child as much as you?”

  “Fair point.”

  We both chuckle.

  “So you’re moving in with him?” he asks. “You don’t have to shack up with your boyfriend if you’re not ready. We could room together. The apartment is big. Two rooms. Nice balcony. Great weights room on site.”

  I make a funky face at the last part. “Are you trying to convince me or scare me away?”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “Some things never change.”

  “I can still kick your ass at Ultimate Mortal Kombat 3,” I sass, smirking at him.

  “You can try.”

  “And I will,” I assure him. “When you come over to visit me at Scott’s. Maybe come over for dinner one day or something. I want this with him. He makes me happy.”

  “No changing your mind then, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  “Stubborn shit,” he grumbles.

  “I learned it from watching you, Dad,” I tease back.

  He stands from the chair and stalks over to me. I squeak out in surprise when he hauls me to him for a bear hug. I’m pretty sure all the bones in my body are breaking from his embrace.

  “Our dad was a piece of shit,” he chokes out. “I just wanted you guys to grow up right.”

  I tear up at his words, clinging to him. “You weren’t our dad, but you’re a great big brother. It’s not your place to father us. I think it’s the best thing for everyone for us to both leave Mom.”

  He sighs heavily. “I do too. I think I was falling into a bit of a depression. But having my own place now is nice.”

  We pull apart, but he doesn’t step away.

  “I know you’re busy and all, but maybe one day you could help me pick out shit for my place. I know fuck all about furniture and décor. All I have right now is a television and a card table and a bed.”

  I smile at him. “I’ll make time. Maybe we can go on Saturday.”

  He looks relieved and it does wonders for my self-esteem. I was so busy wallowing in my own woes that I never saw how much my brother truly tried to keep our family bound tightly together. He needs us as much as we need him.

  “Well, I need to bail,” I tell him. “I have to get to work at some point today.”

  He smirks. “If I help you carry all this shit to the car, you’ll owe me breakfast. Then you’ll be really late.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “I think I can hear the glazed donuts calling your name. Malcolm. Malcolmmmmm. Eat us.”

  I snort out a laugh. “You’re so fucking weird.”

  “So are you.”

  “Finnnne,” I concede with a whine. “But we have to go somewhere that has Mountain Dew because I don’t have enough caffeine this morning for your annoying ass.”

  “Diva.”

  “Dick.”

  Scott

  “Mal!” I call out from the kitchen.

  Silence.

  “Yo, Mal!”

  Silence.

  “You have three seconds to get in here before I add bell peppers to the spaghetti sauce,” I warn.

  The door to the home office squeaks open and he rushes into the kitchen, his eyes wild as he searches for the offensive vegetable. “I don’t like bell peppers,” he says absently.

  “And I don’t like it when you disappear for hours without surfacing for nourishment.” I smirk at him.

  “I was only in there for—holy shit it’s seven!”

  “And your siblings will be here any minute. Not that I don’t mind seeing you without a shirt—because, trust me, I don’t mind one bit—but I think your sisters might freak. Especially if I ogle you in front of them.”

  “Ugh, you’re right. Be right back.”

  He bounds off and I go back to stirring my special sauce. Sauce that requires mincing the vegetables in the food processor so he doesn’t know he’s getting the good stuff. I chuckle to myself as I think about the past couple of months living with my boyfriend. It’s been interesting and fun and hot and sometimes annoying as fuck when he tries to organize my toys. But overall, it’s been pretty incredible.

  My Nokia rings in my pocket and I quickly fish it out. “Hello?”

  “Why was Six afraid of Seven?”

  “Hello, Deon. Let’s see, why was Six afraid of Seven?”

  The kid cackles, sounding just like Wendell. “Because Seven Eight Nine. Get it? Ate?”

  I laugh because it’s funny as shit. Then, I hear a scuffle before Wendell gets on the line. “Hey, man, what’s up?”

  “Cooking.”

  “You? Cooking? Someone alert the press.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “I might,” he says with
a chuckle. “Getting ready for a date.”

  “No shit? What’s her name?”

  “Nunya.”

  “Nunya? What kind of fucking name is—”

  “Nunya business.”

  “Oh my God. You’ve been reading too many of Deon’s joke books. Go away. Look up some fresh material before your date because you’re an embarrassment to single men everywhere.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “What are you guys doing tonight?”

  “We’re having Madden and the girls over.”

  “No shit? That dude looks like a linebacker and you’re fucking his brother. You sure you want to do this?”

  “Dude was a linebacker and he’s supposedly cool with our relationship.”

  “Key word: supposedly,” Wendell says in a cryptic tone. “Is that why he hasn’t been by to see Mal in two months?”

  “They’ve gone to lunch and shit,” I argue. “He’s just been busy working a job at the gym until he starts coaching.”

  “Bulking up to kick your ass…”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “Oooh, we got ourselves a big man over here. Gonna whip that linebacker’s ass, huh?”

  “Fuck off, idiot.”

  “Just sayin’…keep your steak knife close.”

  “Did you call for a reason? You know, besides making my life a living hell like usual?” I joke with him, but it’s not true. He’s been a pillar of strength and knowledge in rebuilding Hawkins Group.

  “Wade got hired at Finnlay Branding.”

  “How?” I growl.

  “Because he fucking lies, that’s how.”

  “This lawsuit is taking way too long,” I grumble.

  “Because we’re building a solid case against him. Patience, my friend.” He chuckles. “Also, someone made an anonymous call to HR and told them it would behoove them to check his criminal record.”

  “No you didn’t.”

  “To be safe, I faxed them a copy too.”

  “I hope they fucking fire him.”

  “They did. A chick I used to date works there. She said one minute he was unpacking a box and then the next minute he was gone.”

  “Good,” I say with a laugh. “I hope he never finds a job again.”

 

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