Enthrall: A Found by You Novella
Page 3
Hotshot had his head thrown back now, looking dopey as hell as he threw two arms around his ladies and chuckled at something Q said. He even had his tongue hanging out of his mouth during the laugh. His clown shirt only cemented what a jackass this guy was.
I smirked. I refused to believe a woman of that caliber had a claim staked on her by anyone, let alone the kid on the couch. He wouldn’t be able to handle her. Nah, not in the slightest.
She’d even given me a run for my money.
Smiling again, I continued to circulate the room with my gaze, but had a feeling I might be left empty tonight. The kid came minus not only her, but any security detail at all, so maybe he decided to pull solo. Tonight, my only hope was staying until this thing closed out, and maybe being able to catch Mystery Girl, if she was his ride.
“Fuck yeah, Q!”
The eloquent sentence was followed by another douchy laugh, and I lifted my eyes to the heavens. I hoped… Ms. Simmons arrived soon. I didn’t know how much more I could take of this babysitting shit.
Giving the kid another look, I watched him reach for Q’s hand. My boy had it extended to him for some reason. I quickly discovered it was to pull him into him, the pair exchanging a shake and a hug. The kid ended it with a snap, and Q rose from the couch, the kid’s attention going back to his girls immediately after.
My eyes narrowed at the scene, then lifted when I realized Q was coming towards me. He reached for me, shaking my hand, before pulling me into a one-armed hug.
“‘Sup, man?” I said, patting his back.
He stepped back, tipping his chin at me before grabbing himself a Corona off the bar I stood near.
“Ain’t got nothing to complain about,” he said, and I heard that.
I smiled.
“Life is good, and I thank you for this thing tonight.” In fact, he’d had a pivotal role in getting the kid here - him and his connections. Q had friends all over the city, and was able to get the word out right to him. I guess the kid had been headed to some ritzy party at a hotel tonight before he was redirect by a phone call. Q knew everyone.
“Kid seems to be having a good time,” I told him, tilting my drink that way. Q nodded his head of dreads, and chuckled.
“No problem. He ain’t so bad.”
I supposed I hadn’t actually spoken to the kid to gauge that, but I figured any guy who walked in with two chicks wearing a clown costume wouldn’t be much of a conversationalist.
Shrugging a little, I put my judgment aside and took another swing. If Q said he was ‘aight he probably was.
Another guy in a room across the hall caught Q’s attention as he lifted a tumbler of brown liquid at him. Q returned it with a salute of his own drink, and I figured my time was about to be up with the guy. That was confirmed when he brought me in again. Another shake, then a hug.
“Look me up when you roll through Chi-Town again,” I told him, more than happy to hook him up with some game tickets.
We could have a good time.
“Sure thing,” he said, “and feel free to invite the kid anytime to these things. He’s cool people and I can’t wait to do business with him.”
I took a drink.
“Is he buying some of your pieces or something?” That would explain their exchange before. Q’s jewelry work was some of the finest.
He grinned a little. “Nah, I’m actually buying some of his. He’s got word on a shipment coming in. Guns and other things.”
The last sentence had me turning my head, eyeing Hotshot again. That’s the last thing I ever would have thought a rookie like that would have his hand in. But again, if Q was saying it…
I let my mind linger, finishing my beer. I left the rookie on the couch to dispose of my bottle, and headed back to my station right after.
But there was a slight interception.
She wandered the house. Blocking the hall I would have taken from the kitchen back to the kid, those heels made their rounds. She stamped the carpet with charged steps, thick thighs. The tiniest waist flared off into hips easily exposed if done just right, as well as a tight green dress that only needed a slight turn of the hand…
I went around a couple of people dancing, not losing sight of her. I could have easily approached her, but instead, just watched her a little, taking a seat on the edge of an end table. Ms. Simmons had her eyes on the room tonight, a set of keys in her hand. The woman damn-near glided. Something in her eyes made me seriously question using that hand. I could slide easily between those sweetened brown thighs and bring her out of the determination that held her gaze. She was clearly looking for someone.
Maybe she just needed to find him.
I got up, moving with her at a distance, but the closer I got, the closer I could see her. I guess that would be the point, but something slowed me. A slight tint touched her cheeks, her face flushed all over, and pinked lips worried in the corners. She did look worried, which was a far cry from the previous time I’d seen her - unrelenting, self-assured. And then a word came out of her mouth.
“Tucker?” she said, pushing past a couple, and then another.
“Tucker?”
I followed her, again staying at a distance, for the most part, until I found myself right up on her. She’d stopped for a moment in her search, holding onto a wall as she stood up on the toes of her heels. Hotshot’s name left from her lips once more, and I reached out toward her. I didn’t know what I was going to do; tell her I knew where he was, or what, but I found I had to do something. She looked so damn worried.
Her pivot choked my words down.
I think she meant to redirect her search, but in her reroute, she hit me, and almost lost her balance. She got me full on, hands on my shirt, and her in my arms.
As I unraveled her from my grasp, my hands rested on her shoulders. I brought them down skin that was butter smooth, and so hot to the touch.
She gazed up at me, dark brown lashes contradicting her buzzed, caramel hair, and she said another name. But this time, it wasn’t the kid’s.
“Diondre?” she gasped, unblinking, making my brow jump.
Some people pushed behind her, trying to get past her I was sure, but all that did was press her up against me. Soft breasts kept her shapely hips from getting any closer, and thank God for that.
So hard in my jeans, I held her back a little, noticing more than beaded nipples through her thin dress.
“Eh, um,” I jumbled, and I didn’t jumble—ever.
I blinked.
“Yeah,” I stuttered, answering her. “But I don’t think I got your name.”
Had she looked me up?
Like she realized her slip up, her eyes went wide, and suddenly narrowed.
Then they went cold.
She flew out of my hands like she’d never been there, and then those heels pivoted again. They headed in the opposite direction of me this time, and maybe if she hadn’t been trying to get away from me she would have noticed the guy trying to get her attention at the wet bar.
His hand going for her ass came down with a crack and I’d never seen someone whip around so fast.
She clearly got to him before I could.
I was only mid-fist raised when she swung around and had her elbow against this guy's throat. Using her heel as leverage, she had this guy up against the wall, and those eyes narrowed even harder.
“You don’t touch me,” she growled. “Ever.”
His cheeks puffed up, his face going white, and I seriously thought she’d kill this guy right here in the middle of the living room. By now, she’d gathered a crowd, and seemed no closer to letting this man go. I mean, it had been a fucker’s move for sure - putting his hands on her - and if she hadn’t gotten to him, I know I would have had him on the floor just out of sheer principle. I had two sisters myself, and I never put my hands on a woman unless she was giving me the body language to do so. That would have been the end of it though. A quick punch…
I put my hand on her shoulder again.
“Hey,” I said, my breath expelling if not just a little. I couldn’t help it by what she was doing to this guy. She could cut off his air supply only too easily. She could kill him.
She didn’t let go immediately, and I squeezed her shoulder just a little. When I did, she finally let go. It had been slow - but she did. She stepped back like she got her head together, and a random name, “Andie” had her gaze panning to the couch. It went to the same couch I left the kid on.
“Tuck.”
She fell from my hand again, leaving me standing there, and I watched her head over to the kid, looking flabbergasted in the middle of Q’s living room.
He eyed her.
“What the…” But then he gazed around, and something about what he saw made his eyes change.
His jaw stiffened. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I blinked. What was his problem, and why would he say such a thing to her, like she couldn’t take his ass down in the middle of this house?
Watching her, I half expected her to. He’d clearly disrespected her, but she didn’t. If anything, I saw her shrink two whole sizes where she stood.
She sighed a little. “I came to find you. You didn’t go where you said you’d be and left your security detail. I mean, what were you thinking?”
His eyes lifted and he stumbled a little, going back to the couch. Retaking his seat, he got comfy and put his arms around the ladies he brought with him.
“I don’t answer to nobody,” he said, then opened his mouth to a lit blunt. One of his girls had one, and slid it right between his lips.
“Andie” reached over and ripped it right out.
“The fuck, Andie—!”
She stamped it out with her heel. “You need to get up and get out of here. Do you even know these people?”
When he pushed away from his girls he sent them flying back. He got up in Andie’s face. “You need to back the hell off—”
Hotshot watched as I got between them, but I didn’t do it in an aggressive way, assessing the situation first. This guy would be an idiot to think that had anything to do with him though. My interception had very much to do with her, and how horrified she’d be if I punched this little fucker in his jaw if he said one more wrong thing to her.
I put my hand to his chest, but then passively slid it around his shoulders.
Her eyes flickered, and it took all I had in me to ignore it and pull this little asshole against me.
“He’s having a good time,” I told her, and then shrugged. “Just be easy.”
He grinned at me, then her, and the urge to clock him tugged at my fist settled on his shoulder.
He tipped his chin at her. “Yeah, be easy, Andie.”
Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing, but when her face fell, I think I accidentally accomplished it.
Her hand went around his bicep. “Tucker, please…”
“Hey, um, Andie, is it?”
Her eyes went hard at me again, but I had never been ignored so quickly. She tugged at Tucker again, but this time, he pulled away from her. He looked to come at her with something again, but I asked him to take a sec, to get a drink and breathe, and surprisingly? He did.
Flashing Andie a look, he fist bumped me, then turned and grabbed his women. Together, they headed toward the bar, and I had to block Andie with my body to keep her from going after him. One thing I noticed, though? She wouldn’t let my hands go anywhere near her, not this time.
Her jaw worked.
“Get out of my way.” But no, I wouldn’t be doing that, and she discovered that when I held my positioning.
I geared myself up for the worst. I pretty much knew she could take me down where I stood, considering what I had witnessed ten minutes earlier.
Taking a step back, she laughed. It was a cynical one, though. No humor at all.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “What is this? You’re my brother’s new best friend now?”
Her brother! He’s her brother.
That explained a lot a guess.
She went to step around me, but I blocked her again. Her shoulders tensed and I lifted my hands.
“No threat. I just want to talk.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Well, I don’t want to talk to you. And, is this your house?” she said, taking a step back to gaze around. “Where are your women?”
I had that coming.
Sighing, I pushed my hands into my pockets. “That night was a mistake. I was actually there to—”
“Make a deposit,” she interrupted, making my brow twitch up again.
She nodded.
“I know everything that goes on in my club,” she went on.
Her club? Well, damn she was really the wrong person to piss off then.
I’m such a fuck up.
I drew my hand down my face. “Look. Andie.”
Her face twisted up at the use of her name.
I pushed past it. “What happened was a huge mistake. I really was just there to make the deposit. Things got out of hand and…”
But she wasn’t listening to me.
She was watching Tucker.
Over at the bar, the kid was taking drinks from his girls, which had the woman in front of me wanting to do nothing but rip each one away from him. And that? That got me another idea.
No matter how much of a d-bag it made me.
“You give me back my reservation at the club, and I’ll get Tucker to leave.”
It was a chance I was taking, I admit that. But it proved to be the right one.
She shot me a quite intimidating glare. She had given the “Ass Grabber” a very similar look earlier. But this? This made that look like child’s play.
She stepped up to me again, like she had the night she kicked me out of her club, and gazed up at me.
I followed every varying shade of brown in her eyes as she did. Each color was wrapped up in the other, twisting and turning, like they couldn’t get enough of each other. Like they had to be together.
Her hand went to my chest, and I watched it, her finger touching right at my heart.
“Come to the club at noon tomorrow,” she said, but then one more thing as she stabbed it into my chest.
“And stay the hell away from my brother.”
Andie
“What were you thinking?” I snapped, tossing a look over to the passenger seat.
What I found wasn’t shocking.
Gazing out the window, my brother wasn’t listening to me at all.
He never listened to me.
A breath expelled from my chest as I gripped the steering wheel of my Mercedes. I had to fight him to get him in the car, and leave all that bullshit at that house. He didn’t need any girls right now. He needed to keep his head on straight and focus on what got him those girls in the first place, his game.
I huffed.
“Underage drinking, really?” I asked. He’d clearly put some away even before I arrived. He’d been stepping all over himself when I found him.
My acknowledgement of his behavior went again disregarded. His hands tucked under his arms, his eyes closing like he was going to sleep, and that only frustrated me more. It hurt me more.
A pang hit my chest as we traveled under traffic lights - the other street lights like fireflies in the DC air.
“You’ve got two strikes already, Tuck,” I said, reminding him. He technically had three alcohol related offenses, but that last one had been thrown out. We had a lenient judge that day. She’d been from the old neighborhood. I faced him again.
“You trying to lose it all?”
He’d worked so hard for his success on the basketball court. I had worked so hard to make sure he could, and I’d do it again. I was happy to. I’d spent years dancing in clubs, putting it all away so he could go to those basketball camps, so he could shine when those scouts came calling. They eventually did, and now he was one of the most promising athletes in the game, but he could still lose it all. So quickly.
“What I do,” he said, putting his hand to his chest, “is no concern of yours. Hasn’t been for a while, so you need to back off me, and my life.”
That pang hit my chest again. It destroyed me that he felt that way. That he still felt that way after all these years.
I worked my hands on the wheel.
“I can’t do that,” I said, shaking my head. “I won’t. You can refuse my help. You can run from the security detail I assign you, and get into as much trouble as you want, but I’m still going to be here. I’m still going to take care of you.”
He was my brother. He was my only family, and I loved him.
The very words caused an expression I’d seen many times before. What I’d said twisted him up, a mashup of emotions flooding his face before it always settled on one. That one hit the harshest - the cruelest.
His gaze cut to me.
“You lost any fucks I could give you years ago, but do what you want if it makes you feel better.”
I lost him again after that, but in my heart, I knew he’d been gone years ago.
And it was all my fault that he had.
*
I walked into a dark, lonely house after I dropped my brother off at his home that night. I lived in a high-rise downtown. I put in many years of working my ass off so I could. My place wasn’t far from my brother’s. I liked it better that way, though of course he didn’t.
Tossing my keys on the end table, I found myself in the living room.
Not too much later, I made my way to a dark bedroom with a bottle in my hands. I’d never been one to self-medicate. But tonight had been hard.
I let the brown liquid burn away everything, the searing inside my chest and the thoughts in my head. I even thought about calling Tuck. I just wanted to talk to him. I just… wanted him to not hate me anymore. But why shouldn’t he?
I hated me.