Love In the Red Zone (Connecticut Kings Book 1)

by Love Belvin

  The more he spoke, the more I visualized the meeting.

  “Not like a father. Like a neighbor…” I echoed into the darkness.

  A slow, “Yeah, like that,” escaped his mouth, from his mind. I could tell Trent was back in that moment, too. “We talked about the game and he mentioned some of my old plays. He may have asked how my mother was doing—I ‘on’t quite remember—but that was pretty much it. No apologies. No answers. No promises to keep in touch. He did mention he had three sons that wanted to come, but for whatever reason he told them no. But that was it.”

  “Have you heard from him since?”

  “Nah…”

  I swallowed hard, taking air down with it. My eyes stung.

  “He wasn’t interested in your money or fame…” I spoke at the speed of my thoughts, amazed by the picture of loneliness Trent was illustrating.

  “Nah. Neither one of my parents care about that.”

  “Not even your mother?”

  “Nope. I bought her a house—my first major purchase after I got signed. She ain’t want it. I had to buy the crappy house from the landlord from underneath her and evict my mother for her to leave that dump and move to Pennsauken. It’s right outside of Camden, so it’s close to family, but safe. The house ain’t big, but more than enough space for her. But, yeah…” He chuckled wryly. “She ain’t want nothing to do with that.”

  “The one you bought from beneath her…” I swallowed. “That’s the house the kid, Glock, hid out in?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you tell her you were buying the one in Pennsauken before you did?”

  “Nah.” I heard air push from his nostrils, but couldn’t identify if it was telling of his emotions or he was just tired. It was almost midnight. “I don’t talk to my mother. Haven’t really since… Since like ten.”

  He stopped and so did my heart. I wanted to hear more, now invested in his story. Desperate for answers, I pushed.

  “What happened when you were ten, Trent?” My voice was reduced to a soft trill floating in the air.

  “My brother got killed.”

  “How?”

  “By a crew around the way. He was ummmm…” He cleared his throat. “He was looking for me. I liked to run the streets with my uncle, Trick, at that age, getting in trouble. My brother was seventeen and tried keeping up with me, knowing I ain’t have my pops around. I snuck out on a school night and he came looking for me in the wrong area and messed around and got robbed. They killed him.” His tone ended on a hushed breath. Trent was dazed by the memory. My chest heaved and eyes misted. “Well, anyway, Trevor—my brother—was her only child for a while and was supposed to stay that way, I guess. She worshipped the ground he walked on. When I came along, she wasn’t too happy. I was a mistake with another man. Trevor was cool and looked out for me a lot. Before there was Shank, it was my brother who kept me in line. And when he died, my mother never really fucked with me after that. I lived with her, but was mostly at my grams’ with Shank and them.”

  The tears wouldn’t stop, but biting my lip kept me from sobbing outright. I swallowed hard.

  “You don’t see her on holidays or when you go down to see Shank and your grandmother?”

  This would explain his solitary ways.

  “For years she didn’t come around. Even when she lived in CMD. She stayed to herself, so I didn’t see her. She’s a home health aide and works most of the time, I think. But when my grandmother had a stroke last year, she started coming around, helping her out. So I see her sometimes when we’re at the house at the same time.”

  “What does she say?”

  “My moms? What do you mean what does she say?”

  “Like does she keep up with your career like your father claimed he did?”

  “Oh, nah. She don’t say much of nothing.”

  I curled my knees into my chest, the pillow saturated with my feelings for his lost soul.

  “Does she say hello?” My face contorted, unable to believe how dispassionate this woman was toward her son.

  I couldn’t imagine breathing on any corner of this planet and not showering Kyree with the love and enthusiasm for his life he deserved.

  “When I do, she does.” His voice cracked.

  Before I realized I was in motion, I was partially on top of his hard thick frame.

  Her arms where aside my shoulders, her breath on my face first and her mouth was spot on top of mine in the darkness. I felt her tears on my lips before I tasted them. In fact, I was sure I tasted more fluids than what dripped from her eyes. Jade took my mouth with force. Her hot tongue pushed through my lips without preamble. I had to get my brain out of the rut she’d just put it into, reminiscing about my fucked up childhood, but I eventually snapped out of it and was tossed into the realm of acceptance and empathy she was now directing me to. Jade made me feel covered when I put my feelings out there about someone other than Shank and Ezra. By kissing me, she gave me a safe place to mourn the little boy who was neglected by his owners like a stray dog. That’s what I likened myself to as a kid after Trevor died. I was like a dog until Shank stepped up. I needed my owner for food, but I was trained to do everything else: groom, go to school, and entertain myself.

  With her little frame halfway on me, she embraced my shoulders and then head gently, holding me like I was precious. This was some feminine shit I ain’t never felt with a woman, with a person. With her this close, I smelled the essence embedded in her skin, I could feel the natural temperature of her body. It was weird, because I’d been with countless women, but never had I felt this close. This intimate. Jade’s legs remained on the bed, which made the difference. This wasn’t sexual like when she went down on me last week. This was her nurturing me as a man to account for the little boy inside.

  “You’re precious,” she cried against my lips, her little frame shaking as it hovered over me. “You’re a gift to the world, Trent, and not for what you could do when you were working. For what you bring to the world in here.” Her soft palm splayed over my chest, on my right pec.

  Then her lips were on mine again, and her tongue against mine again. This time I didn’t need to think if I could trust her. I opened my mouth and gave her my tongue while I chased her lips around mine. Our first kiss was more than I’d ever experienced, filled with more than I’d ever been given. My hands were in her hair fisting her closer as if it were possible. My breathing was rough and expelled with an emotion that, in the moment and in the darkness of my safe quarters, I wasn’t afraid to explore.

  I don’t know how long we kissed, but when we stopped, Jade slowly pulled from my bed. I lay in the same position, watching her toe to the door in nothing but a t-shirt. When she left, I felt…sad then angry. When I’d let my feelings slip, she made me feel like she had me, all to leave. But as I lay there catching my breath, I remembered Jade was a nurturing mother. She could discern what was best for the one she cared for. Me. Jade made the call I would have, had I not been too caught up in my feelings to make. She knew it was best to not turn that delicate meeting place into something sexual. She knew I wouldn’t have been able to handle that once the morning came. And for that, I was grateful.

  I lost my Section 8 Housing voucher. The allowed four weeks to find an apartment had passed…just like that. Months of waiting for this voucher and I’d let it slip through my fingers. It was the middle of November and once I realized the deadline date had passed, I contacted my case worker to follow up on the necessary recourse of action. Since, I’d been playing the waiting game to see if I could get an extension.

  The past month had been a regulated schedule of acclimating Kyree to a new school district, working the salons, continuing with my online courses, cleaning Trent’s mansion from top to bottom, and still chipping away at his titanium exterior. Trent hadn’t been over-exaggerating when he admitted to having trust issues. Getting him to open up to me at night was like pulling teeth. I toned down my hyper-flirting with him just a bit. I, honest-to-goodn
ess, couldn’t control my attraction to the guy. My inexplicable desire to get into his head had quickly turned into an uncontainable need. There was something so compelling about Trent. It was baffling and concerning how I’d felt so at ease around him. How I felt at home in his home as a guest. He wasn’t hospitable, just very relaxed and that was welcoming.

  I continued to cook and even researched recipes that would pair well with his workout regime. Trent shared that he’d been training to get back on the field and that included his physique. While he looked to be in optimal shape to me, apparently he’d taken extra steps to get back to where he once was in terms of stamina. So, I purchased snacks that were as healthful and nutritious as they were delicious. Trent basically worked a full time job, leaving out behind Ky and me in the mornings and not returning until dinner time. One of the sweetest and most endearing things I’d ever seen in life was the one night I approached Ky’s room to tuck him in and was stopped in my tracks at the sounds of his voice with Trent’s.

  “God, please forgive me for my sins. Please bless my grandmas, grandpas. Bless my sisters even though they be mean to me sometimes. Bless my teachers and friends at school. Bless Trent so he don’t get hurt at work by those big guys, running into him. And please, please bless my mommy with her work and school.” Ky’s voice was pleading. Sincere. “She’s working really hard and she’s the best mommy ever.” There was a pause and change in the inflection of his cadence. “Is that it, Trent?”

  “You tell me,” Trent answered. “Is there anything else you want from Him?”

  “I think that’s it,” Ky returned, unsure.

  “Hmmm…” Trent considered that for a moment. “What about your dad?”

  “Oh. Okay.” Another pause before he continued in that prayer cadence. “Please bless my daddy where he is. I hope he’s having a good night at his camp.”

  I swallowed painfully at that fib I’d told my son three years ago when his father was sentenced to prison—again.

  “I think that’s it, Trent.”

  “Okay. Then you end your prayers with ‘In Jesus’ name. Amen.’ When you do that, you tell God you believe in His power and know who the blessings are going to come through.”

  “Okay,” Kyree agreed. “In Jesus’ name. Amen.” I heard rustling, assuming it was Ky getting into bed. “Thanks for teaching me, Trent. I’m gonna tell Mommy I know how to pray!”

  “No problem, chief. Anything you need, anytime.”

  When I heard Trent heading for the door, I did a complete turn and dipped into the closest guest bedroom to me. It was a close call, but I wasn’t found out. My heart swelled as it pounded in my chest at a man teaching my son how to talk to God. It was something Trent really believed in. Many nights, when I crept into his room, I backed up, seeing him on his knees, silently praying. It was an admirable trait, and now he’d passed it on to my son.

  Teaching Kyree to pray wasn’t the only activity I’d accidentally walked in on with Trent. One weekend night, he’d gotten in late from training at Rutgers. It was after dinnertime and Ky had already gone down. I waited a bit before I went in to check on his day. When I toed in, I noticed Trent wasn’t in bed where I expected him. I moved on to the bathroom and saw the lights on. That thought reminded me that I’d done laundry and never replaced Trent’s towel and wash cloth, so I ran out and to the linen closet to get a set of the clean linens and brought them back in his bathroom. The closer I approached, I could see the vanity of his oversized bathroom with a centered shower that was encased by three glass walls and one marble one that faced the door. The room was extremely large having two vanities with built-in sinks on both sides of the centrally located shower and a circular porcelain bathtub on the other side of the room.

  When I placed the linens on the one vanity, I caught movement in the mirror happening behind me. I knew I shouldn’t have looked. Knew from the moment I came in with the towels that the shower was running, but I couldn’t help myself. Slowly, my hungry eyes roved up the mirror and caught his bare feet spread far apart, his bundled calf muscles covered with long silky hair strands. His thighs were corded ropes, dangerous virility in the distance between the two. His hands were busy cleaning his pelvic area, but his abs were a slab of hilly board, and chest was swollen squares of plated muscle. His thick and hairy arms reached below and that’s when I noticed his dick was exposed as he stroked the soapy wash cloth over it.

  I sucked in air that was audible as I jumped on my toes at how hot that image was. I felt my sex lubricate with feverish desire as my pulse pounded. My mouth hung open as I watched Trent clean himself. Fucking huge! The man’s dick wasn’t even fully inflated—I knew that from experience. When my regard rose to his face, I caught his chin toward the floor, but his eyes on me. That had me collapsing into the vanity, clamoring to break my fall. I scrambled to the pads of my feet and bolted out of the bathroom, hearing Trent’s boisterous and taunting laughter behind me. The bastard already had clean linens in there!

  How did I not stay ahead of that Section 8 voucher?

  I think I knew…

  I hobbled into the house, body totally drained from the day’s activity, not to mention how hungry I was after serving all that food. Jade led the way, turning on the hall light and all of those leading into the kitchen. Kyree and I stayed behind, kicking off our boots and coats in the coatroom next to the garage.

  “I’m tired.” Kyree yawned while rubbing his eyes.

  He stood, waiting for me to hang his coat on the rack next to mine.

  “Me, too,” I muttered with my back to him. “It’s all good. Maybe ya moms won’t sweat you for a shower and let you go straight to bed.”

  I snorted, taking him at the shoulder and leading him into the hall so we could follow behind Jade. There was no way she was letting him touch his sheets without washing. It was Thanksgiving and we’d been around food and strangers most of the day. He’d have to eat that shower.

  On our way down the hall, he whined, “I’m hungry, though, Trent.”

  “Hungry?” I asked dramatically, but serious. “All that food at the church and you ain’t eat?”

  “No. Mommy gave me a snack, but she said the food was for the people.” He moped.

  After spending a few hours at Ezra’s with another pastor at our church and their wives, I headed over to the church for our annual dinner for the less fortunate. It was something I started just after I joined RSfALC. I joined with one of their auxiliaries there and paid for all the food and supplies through my charity. When I was locked up, Ezra continued my efforts along with the coat drive and Christmas dinner and gifts. This was my first time back at it. I’d given him a break, seeing he was newly married and all. Jade and Kyree asked to participate and met me in Harlem, at the dining hall the church owned.

  All of a sudden, I smelled food on the way to the kitchen. A different miscellany of scents from where we’d just left. We’d just turned the corner for the kitchen and it dawned on me; I didn’t grab those bags of food the missionaries set aside for me to bring home. In fact, I recalled the one asking if I’d like for them to put something aside for us and I answered yes, but didn’t hear back from her on it.

  Damn!

  I was hungry, too. But what was it that I smelled? I hope my exhausted mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. It was after ten at night. I didn’t know if any restaurants were open, given the holiday.

  “We’ll get you something.” I gave his little shoulder a gentle squeeze.

  As we stepped into the kitchen, Jade shouted, “KyKy, come turn on the other light!”

  She didn’t realize we’d entered the room. I stopped in my tracks when I saw her placing pans into the oven. There were several more waiting on the counter. My eyes ballooned.

  “You mind giving me around forty-five minutes? I just want to get Kyree showered. And by that time, everything will be heated up, and I’ll be ready to fix plates.” She spoke nonchalantly, but implored with her weary eyes.

  Even Jade was b
eat. I, on the other hand, was stunned and confused.

  “When did you have time to cook this?” I asked, standing stock-still.

  She shuffled over to the table, stopping at the island to pull out placemats, utensils and cloth napkins from the drawer. Where did those come from? I didn’t even know the island had those compartments.

  With arched brows and a crook in her neck as she settled the first placemat, she responded, “Yesterday. When does every black woman cook her Thanksgiving meal? Duh?” She cracked a playful smile to soothe the burn of her shot. “I finished this morning.”

  Kyree had a game in his hand already. Where it came from was anyone’s guess. Dude had stashes all over. I shook my head, trying to wrap my brain around this.

  “When? I didn’t smell this last night when I got in.”

  “You must’ve been stuffy because I finished around seven and you got in after ten.” She continued with the table.

  “But we just left the church with all that food…” I found my thumb facing backward and my stomach rumbling at the familiar scent of home cooked soul food.

  Jade straightened from the table, her hazels narrowing with understanding. One that I wished she’d clue me in on.

  She took a deep breath. “That food was for those in need. It was work from your charity organization—like you said, your form of ministry. This”—she pointed to the table—“is your private celebration with people who’re…”

  Jade paused. My chest grew, nostrils expanded. I was partially afraid of the remainder of that sentence. The other part of me felt something that didn’t hurt, but also wasn’t indifferent. And that concerned me.

  She cleared her throat and licked her lips as she straightened her petite frame, her chest pushing out, bringing my attention to those boobs again as she stood with one foot on top of the other.

  “Look, Trent. You deserve to have a private retreat after all of that. A warm dinner in your home. Let’s do that before you two poop out on me.” She ended on a more genuine and softer smile.