Love's Ineligible Receiver (Connecticut Kings Book 5)

by Love Belvin

  “Sure.” I nodded. “Give me a minute to get these documents over to finance and I’ll meet you in your office?” I asked to be sure.

  “How about in James’ office?” Marshall proposed, reminding me I’d be with Jimmy’s son today. Marshall here was his big boss and they were up for their time with the biggest boss. “I’d like him to be there, too.”

  After a hard swallow, I nodded again. “See you in a few.”

  She took off and I sulked.

  Just a few more hours…

  ~Eight

  “I’m going, too!” I stood up, swaying.

  Fuck! I hope nobody ain’t see that…

  “No!” everybody yelled at the same time.

  A hand was at my shoulder, pushing me back into my seat.

  “Rut, you know the rule. You don’t fuckin’ get involved!” My cousin, Trigger, yelled from across the room.

  He was polishing his gat, just like my other cousins and roadies all around the room.

  “And you get ghost before shit go the fuck down. Now, go!” Pop took the same tone.

  “Nah, man. Fuck that! This my nigga.” I slapped my chest, feeling nothing. “My mufuckin’ brother. I’m serving that fuckin’ bullet tonight.”

  “Rut, baby!” my mother cried. “You can’t. They right. You ain’t even ‘posed to be here now. If you ‘on’t go, I’mma have Fats call Divine. We done came too damn far to lose you, too.”

  The pain in her warning cut through the numbness and anger wrapping around me, layer by layer, each hour since the plane took off in L.A. Fats and I drove from Connecticut where I landed yesterday morning, all the way down here to Trenton, New Jersey so I could be with my family. I’d been with my family since then. Had been drinking since then, too. The cops hadn’t made an arrest, claiming not having enough information. That was strange as fuck, considering by the time I’d landed, my people knew who and where they were hiding.

  My cousin, C-god, wanted to wait them out. He knew the streets were hot with cops waiting on our retaliation so the word was to wait. Tonight they were ready but I was being excluded from the fun and didn’t like it one bit.

  “Man, fuck that!” I stood again. “Fats gone take me back to moms’ house. I’mma grab my heat and we gone ride on those Dolly niggas.”

  “Rut!” I was so far gone, I didn’t know who’d called my name.

  “Nah.” I spoke even louder. “Hell no! B-Rocka was my fuckin’ brother. My bullet.”

  “Rut!”

  “C’mon, Rut!” someone else called as I moved toward the stairs.

  For the first time, I felt a zing of excitement at the thought of revenge. B-Rocka’s moms snuck pictures of his body in the morgue. I’d been sick ever since I saw them. Numb. Angry. Fucking empty.

  As I got closer to the basement stairs, it had dawned on me. “I know both they baby’s moms, too. I fucked the Myisha bitch in the back of the old Chinese store that got burned down a few years ago. And the other one…” I snapped my fingers, trying to remember her name. “Tinky…Teira? Something.” I shook off the confusion in my head. “That bitch necked me like four times while he was in the house sleeping. We can go grab them if needed!”

  Another rush of vindictive elation ran through me, and I realized they were too quiet on me. I hated that shit. Just because I was signed didn’t mean I wasn’t one of them anymore. We moved as a fucking unit, and this time, it was my duty to lead the pack. Fuck a celebrity. Fuck the league. Fuck my life. B-Rocka was gone. I turned to see who was following. It was only Fats and he was handing me a phone. Without thinking, I grabbed it.

  “Who the fuck is this, yo?”

  “It’s that muthafuckin’ G who could have a jet powered in less time than it’ll take me to get to it. And if you ‘on’t get ya ass outta Trenton, I swear on everything I love, I’m gonna get on it and fly to Jersey to whip yo’ muthafuckin’ ass,” he growled. My eyes closed in recognition of the threat and the voice delivering it. Oh, I knew who the hell it was. It was the only man on earth who could take that tone with me. The one governing my world since my pops caught a heavy charge that got him sent up. “Not only am I gonna knock you the fuck out, I’mma beat the shit outta you for making me drop the dough it’ll take for me to get to you. That ain’t ya world. Get the fuck outta dodge and let C-god and them handle that weight.” My nostrils flared and heart sped because it was now hard to breathe.

  He may be able to talk to me that way but having him do it wasn’t easy to sit through. This was fucking B-Rocka. My brother—fuck cousins! What would I expect him to do if my body was laying in a goddamn morgue?

  “You got—” That rumble pushed through the phone again. “5, 4, 3, 2—”

  I yanked by body around and saw Fats’ big ass staring me down. Then with Divine’s voice still in my head counting down, with everything I had, I hurled the phone to the nearest wall. I heard its pieces crashed into the floor as I trekked to the door.

  A phone ringing had me up again. I didn’t know how many times I heard it, but I couldn’t move to do anything about it. Two days of straight drinking had finally caught up with me. The minute I slipped into the back seat of the truck I was out. It wasn’t restful though. I kept waking up.

  “Yeah,” Fats mumbled. “We good. Nigga in the back, sleeping it off.” My eyes couldn’t stay open, but I tried ear hustling. “Yeah. I’m just glad you got him to calm down. You know how hotheaded he is from the jump. Then with him being sauced up, dude would’ve caught a body or a bullet tryna catch a body.” He paused. “A’ight. We ‘bout to hit the state line. I’ll hit you when I get a new phone. Big ass mufucka smashed mine to pieces.” Another pause. “One.”

  When I knew the call was over, I swallowed painfully; my mouth was so damn dry.

  “Yo, take me to 60—” I had to wait for my head to stop spinning or for the wave of nausea to end. “609—”

  “What?” Fats barked from the front seat.

  I was too out of it to bark back, but I managed. “60609 Washington Street.”

  “What the fuck is that? Where Washington Street? You know what the hell time it—”

  I faded to black again.

  My eyes flashed open and chest pounded.

  Was that the…

  My head rolled for my phone. It was after three in the morning and felt like I’d just fallen asleep. It was my norm but being awakened at this hour was not. I swallowed hard. Then it happened again. The doorbell sounded.

  At the pace of my pulse, I leaped from the bed and snatched my housecoat from the closet. Hanging onto the railing, I raced down the stairs. At the landing, my attention went straight to Jimmy’s room. His atrophied frame was still, but I couldn’t quite see his eyes. Instead, I headed straight to the door. From the side window two large frames could be seen. One seemed vertical and the other hanging onto one of the posts of the porch.

  I stood frozen in fear. Who could these imposing figures be at this hour?

  “Parker! Parker…” A masculine set of lungs sang my name. “I see you… Oh, shit—”

  Then I heard what was indisputably a man vomiting in the garden bed. My eyes ballooned.

  “Damn, Rut!” The other body turned an impressive one hundred and eighty degree angle to face who I now knew was Rut.

  I went shakily for the alarm then the locks to open the door. Rut was wiping his mouth as he turned to face me. A devilish grin lifted from his face. It was clear he was drunk. But how in the hell could he still be dangerously handsome while shitfaced?

  “What are you doing here?” I eyed him pointedly.

  Less confidently, my regard brushed against his security I met the night of Eli Richardson’s party. He was holding a carry-on luggage piece.

  “I came to see you,” Rut answered, bringing my attention back to him.

  “At this insane hour?”

  “Yup.” He moved to crowd me in the doorway. “I needed to know why you going out with sucka-ass niggas.”

  I pushed him back outs
ide. “What are you talking about, Rut?”

  Rut stumbled backward but was caught by his security.

  “I’m talking about bitch ass Grant. Why you going out with him? He only want you ‘cause I tasted it.”

  Tasted—

  “You show up here drunk just to ask me why I went out for a drink after work with someone?”

  A drink I didn’t finish because I was so tired after the weekend I’d had with Jimmy. And with someone I still found little chemistry with.

  But he’s nice…

  And Terrance wasn’t a womanizer like Rut. Even though he asked to come back to my place, he’d been a complete gentleman the entire time.

  “I just wanna know if he bought you dinner and flowers.” Rut neared me again. This time, I didn’t push him off, no matter how much I wanted to. “I ain’t no flowers type of nigga, but I do buy food.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Why are you here, Rut?”

  He backed up, face morphing into what could appear to be a sober expression. “I wanna know why you ain’t say thank you for the gift card I sent.”

  My lips parted and eyes grew wide when I understood the talk of food. Yesterday had been so crazy in the front office and today, being home all day with Jimmy, was beyond exhausting. I still hadn’t recovered from the weekend.

  My palm went to my forehead. “I’m sorry, Rut.”

  “Yeah…” he taunted. I glanced up to find his arrogant leer returned. “Sorry. I’m the nice nigga buying food, but he the nigga that gets ya time.” He swayed. “That’s fucked up, Gray.”

  Gray…

  He’d called me Gray. It reached emotionally, and I began to feel bad.

  “Rut, it’s not like I have your number to call or send a text,” I tried.

  That was met with a bitter simper. “Oh, here you go with the bullshit. You ain’t got my number, Gray?”

  That annoyed me. Why would I lie?

  “You know I don’t! We just discussed it last week!”

  “Nah. You said you didn’t, and I made you think I believed it.”

  My forehead wrinkled. “What?”

  “You got my fuckin’ number, Parker!” he shouted, unkindly to the hour. The roguish grin was gone. “I texted you the night we met!”

  My eyes ballooned again, remembering the text game he played that night. That memory caused my eyes to close and face to fall again.

  “Look, man,” his security spoke again. “What’s you gone do?”

  With the meanest glower to date, Rut eyed me. “I’m staying here. She takes care of everybody else… Parker gone take care of me tonight. We friends. Right?”

  Before I could answer, Rut brushed past me into the house. His security gave me an apologetic smile as Rut muttered something about his cousin having a hole blown into his back.

  My neck snapped up to his security.

  “Sorry ‘bout this, ma’am. If you want him to go, I’ll get him out. But if you good with it, here’s his phone,” he whispered that part. “My name is Fats and my number’s in there. I got two numbers in there. One is broken—”

  Rut butted in seemingly so innocent. “Why ya phone broke, Fats?” His face was filled with concern.

  “Because you threw it back in Jersey, Rut,” Fats answered then turned to me. “I’ll be at the store as soon as the doors open. But first I’mma run to the house and get my other phone in case you need me before then.”

  Was he saying he was leaving a drunk, six foot one, two hundred and three pound wide receiver here? With me?

  “Rut!” he shouted rather loudly considering this was an ill man’s house. “You be easy. I’ll hit you in a few hours.”

  Rut didn’t respond. He wobbled over to the foot of the steps and stood with his back to us. The door closed and I realized Fats had left us. Alone. With Rut being drunk.

  “Where the hell ya room at?” I leaped around to find Rut swaying up the stairs.

  Quickly, I grabbed his suitcase and followed him up the stairs, praying Jimmy was still resting. I didn’t want him knowing another guy was in the house.

  “To the left!” I whispered hard, directing him once he was at the top. Rut doddered down the hall. “The one on the end.”

  It dawned on me I hadn’t cut on any lights when I went to answer the door. That ended when Rut flipped them on, brightening the hall, too. His head rotated around the room mutedly. I sauntered up next to his big frame to assist him to the chair in the corner because he didn’t seem steady on his feet.

  Instead, it seemed I startled him by the way his head snapped to face me. He peered down at me, eyes narrowing affectionately and cheeks widening with amusement. He lifted a hand to my face and sweetly swiped my cheek.

  “I like ya room, Gray.”

  I swallowed, bizarrely nervous by his proximity. He smelled of weed, alcohol, and days old Rut.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, gazing up into his pinkish eyes.

  They were still gleamingly beautiful. So wickedly dark with specs of redeeming corruption, mischief, and longing.

  “You used to share it with Wright?”

  I nodded, remembering this was his master bedroom not long ago.

  His eyes danced in mine. “He ‘boulder’ you in here?”

  My lids flew wide and Rut sputtered a hefty laughter, spraying me with his awful alcohol-stench breath.

  “Ewwwwww!” My face tightened and I used my arm up to cover my nose. “Your mouth reeks, Rut!”

  “It’s talented, too. I bet two stacks it can make you do more than Wright’s.”

  “Mmmmmhmmmm.” I began to push him toward the bathroom. “We can debate that after you’ve washed and cleaned your mouth. When was the last time you’ve been inside a shower?”

  “I ‘on’t know. I been out of it since Saturday night,” he slurred. “Everything was going good…” He burped. I moved around to cut on the shower. “Everything was going good until I got a text about you going out with that sherm head ass nigga,” his tone resembled realization as he stared into the distance.

  “Up you go.” I lifted his heavy arms, pushing them into the air.

  “Yeah, and even after that, I wanted to do something nice for you. You know why?” His delivery was sardonic. “Because even though I only pulled up on you last week ‘cause my damn head shrink told me I should, I for real for real think you’re cool, Gray.” That last part was muzzled from me pulling his shirt over his face.

  Good grief!

  The nigga was Hulked out with a thick and corded neck, hilly shoulders, and a carved chest and abs. Perhaps I wasn’t paying much attention the night we met. I didn’t recall all the fine details either, like the small patch of hair in his chest. It wasn’t as full as I’d seen of men but definitely present.

  “You’re going to have to undo your pants,” I informed.

  Rut’s eyes shifted down his torso then up to mine as he unleased that no good smile again. Gosh, he is a charmer!

  The humor disappeared from his face and he crossed his arms defiantly. “I don’t want you seeing my no-no special place.”

  An unexpected guffaw shot from my belly and my palm slapped my mouth to catch it. He held his scowl for a long while before he smiled, confirming his drunken sense of humor.

  “I’m going to find you a toothbrush then check on Jimmy.” I snickered.

  Before I could leave the bathroom, Rut was pulling down his sweats. I went to his suitcase, pulled it to the far end of the room to open, and spread it on the floor. It didn’t take long to locate a Louis Vuitton toiletry bag. I found his electrical toothbrush and took it into the bathroom.

  Through the glass shower wall, I could see Rut washing his arms when I placed the toothbrush near the sink.

  “Here’s your toothbrush. The toothpaste is in the top drawer. Okay?”

  He sang Brielle’s chorus to Young Lord’s “Sun Showers.”

  “Rut?”

  “I heard you,” he made clear before continuing the slurs of the lyrics.

&nbs
p; I left the door ajar and finally headed down to check in on Jimmy.

  As I toed back up the stairs from Jimmy’s room, I listened hard for sounds coming from the second floor. I’d been down with Jimmy for less than twenty minutes. He was still asleep but I didn’t like the position he was in and tried rearranging his body, waking him. I noted how cool his feet felt so I added a blanket over him. After watching him drifted off again, I stayed a few minutes longer to be sure he was resting.

  Now Rut…

  It was conspicuously quiet on the second floor but a beam of lights came from one side of the house. As I approached from the hall, I saw the bathroom light was still on, and the door was wide open. I went straight into bathroom and, right away, realized it was empty. Turning back for the bedroom, I immediately saw a long bare, hairy, striated leg suspended from the mattress. Above it was darker hued skin on top of globular muscles. His back was cut and swollen with graffiti inked on sheen smooth skin.

  Closing my eyes, I took a cleansing breath. What in the world was I doing? Since when had it been okay to have men in Jimmy’s home? Something about walking into my bedroom knowing a man was here felt wrong. But standing here, poring over his back and seeing him resting in my bed, felt so right. It was a draining confliction of emotions.

  I walked to the other side of the bed, and with vicious force, yanked the bedding bunched underneath him. On the fourth tug, I was able to toss them over his lengthy frame. After pulling his leg up from the opposite side, I tucked Rut into bed just as I’d done Jimmy downstairs. I went into the bathroom to cut the light and did the same in the bedroom. Then I found myself standing over my occupied bed, my body throbbing with fatigue. Sleeping with him was out of the question.

  Decided on my next move, I grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and curled up on the sofa chair near the door.

  My breath caught and belly leaped as I was pressed against a plank of muscle and encased by others. I smelled him and instinctively knew it was Rut. I could hardly open my eyes to confirm it but could tell he’d lifted me in the air. Wrestling from his hold could have been an option—should have been. But I was too desperately steeped in sleep to put up any fight.