“Hello?”
“Kiptyn. How are you, son?” My Granny’s sweet voice fills the other end of the line, and immediate guilt consumes me. I should have already called her. It’s been almost a week.
“I’m good, Granny. How are you? You hanging in there? Do you need me to come home?”
“No, I’m okay. I’m just worried about you, Kip. We all are. I see all these stories in the papers, and I know you said most of them weren’t true, but they have pictures too, son. I didn’t raise you like this. I know you’re going through a hard time. We all are, but this isn’t the way to handle it.”
“I know, Granny. I know. I’ll do better. I promise. I’ll make you proud.”
“Oh baby, you already make me proud. Don’t you worry about that. You just do right by you and God, and he will take care of you. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I love you. Come see me when you get one of them break things.”
“I will. I love you too, Granny.”
I hang up and hang my head, ashamed of the man I’ve become. It all happened so fast, and I just didn’t know what to do with all the anger I had after we got the call. That alone pissed me off. The Red Cross called us to let us know that my brother died. His commanding officer couldn’t come by or call. No. They had the fucking Red Cross make the call. Then I was mad at Camryn for going. I was mad at him for wanting to always be a hero. For wanting to be a Marine. For wanting to save the world. Why couldn’t he be happy just being my brother? Why did he have leave me too? Wasn’t it enough that we had lost Mom and Dad? How much more loss could I take before I crumbled under the weight of it all?
Chapter Four
Skila
I swear, that just goes to show you why you should never judge a book by the cover. Who the hell in their right mind offers to have sex with a woman for re-payment for keeping them out of jail? Now I wish I had let him get carried off too.
Asshole.
Thankfully, a cabbie had been coming down the street at the right time and I was able to snatch it up. I didn’t even feel like eating ice cream and watching television anymore. The nerve of some people. Ugh.
Pouring a glass of Moscato, I turn the bath water on warm and let it fill up while I pin my hair back. I need to lie down and relax and wash away all of today’s craziness. Easing into the bath, I try to let everything go and focus on the soft lull of the water and the sweet smell of lavender. It’s slowly starting to take effect. After a few minutes, I decide what I really need is to hear from home.
Dialing my Nana’s cell, I wait for her to answer.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hey, Nana.”
“Hello? How the hell do you answer this damn thing?”
“Nana? Can you hear me? Nana? Hello?”
“Hello? Hello? Sky? I can’t hear you,” she yells into the phone.
“Nana, give it here. Let me see what you did.”
“Hello?”
“Hey, Dev. What are you doing?” I ask, happy that someone who knows how to work the phone is on there now.
“Just stopped by here to check in on Nana and bring her some more Hen. Don’t need her driving drunk again.”
“Good point. The neighbors are probably tired of replacing their mailbox.” I laugh—a real laugh—and it feels good. I didn’t realize how much I already missed my family until just now.
“How are you, Sky? Ready to come home yet?”
“No, not yet,” I say. Even though I may be thinking it, I don’t want my big brother to know how hard things are on me. He has always been overprotective and wouldn’t think twice about flying out here and dragging me home. It’s one of the things I needed to get away from the most. I needed to breathe.
“Stop hogging the damn phone. Did you get it to work? Is my baby girl there?” Nana slaps at Devan. I hear him cursing her boney arms across the phone. I already feel better. I should have called the moment I felt homesick.
“Sky?”
“Hey, Nana.”
“What’s wrong, baby girl?”
“Nothing, Nana. I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, baby. You got this, angel face. I know it’s hard, but this is what you wanted. Us Parkers aren’t quitters, now. You hear?”
“Yes, ma’am. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
I hang up and crawl from the tub. My earlier anxiety and apprehension has completely melted away, along with all thoughts and memories of the stranger at the club. Crawling in the bed, I close my eyes, and within minutes, I’m out like a light.
Chapter Five
Kiptyn
Somehow, the league still managed to find out about the fight, even though we weren't arrested. It was total bullshit, but they let it slide. I think if it hadn’t been the first week of playoffs then they may have been stricter, but they, like everyone else, knew that with me starting, we would have a win. No, I’m not conceited. I'm confident. Yes, there is a big difference. I know I possess the raw talent needed to win the game, but I’m not stupid enough to think it’s enough. It takes hard work and dedication.
I have an overabundance of all three.
Someone from the club has videos and pictures of the entire spectacle, and they aren't shy about sharing them all over social media. I would be mad if it wasn't for the fact that they caught my chocolate goddess on camera as well, reminding me that she is, in fact, real.
I replayed the videos over and over on YouTube just to catch a glimpse of her. I tried to hunt her down. I searched Facebook for her, but she was nowhere to be found. It's probably better that way. At least, that is what I keep telling myself. I don’t have time to get involved with a woman. Not right now. My life is too messy right now, and my head isn’t in the right place. I’ll just keep using them for what I need, give them what they want, and then we both move on.
Sure, there have been some over the last few years that have wanted more. I admit that I’ve had to change my number more than once. And there was that one time my agent had to get involved when one chick took to stalking me everywhere I went, but when she started showing up at my brother’s place, we got a protective order. Enough was enough. Something told me that if I found Skila, she wouldn’t be a short-term fling.
I used every available second to train and practice over the last two weeks, preparing for the playoffs. Tonight is the first game. We are first-seed picks, meaning we play first, and if we win tonight, then we move on to the next round. I have no doubts we will win. The team is good.
Hell, we are great, and with me at point, a win is guaranteed. That is, if I can just get my head in the game and off silky, cocoa skin and chocolate eyes. I wish I could figure out what the hell had me so hooked on her. I had banged my fair share of black girls before, so I knew it wasn't that. There was just something about her that called to me. That and, of course, the fact that she fucking straight up walked away from me. I’d never had that happen before, and I needed to fix this situation as soon as possible. I didn’t get denied. If anything, I did the denying.
The announcer overhead calls the team’s name, and we rush out onto the court, ready to play. The bleachers are full of people, all excited and screaming to be heard over the person next to them. I throw my hand up in the air, waving back at them, and the crowd goes nuts.
They love me.
Who wouldn’t? I'm fucking awesome.
I join the rest of the team by the benches, and coach Thompson calls out the names of the five players first on the court. The rest sit or stand by the sideline, waiting for their chance to jump in and relieve us. Adrenaline courses through me, putting me on edge. This is it. My time to shine.
The whistle sounds, and the ball is tossed. Jordan snaps it out of the air and passes it off to Chris. It bounces once, twice, and then he catches my eye, and the ball meets my hands. I turn half a foot, aim up for the basket, and shoot.
All net.
The crowd screams. Two points up. Easy, like taking candy from a baby. Time flies by when I’m playing. It’s like the moment I step on the court, I’m in another world, another time. Nothing exists but me and the ball. We are one.
“Me, you and a room full of ladies after the game. You in, bro?” Chris asks during halftime.
“Maybe, if you win this thing.” I laugh at my own joke. If anyone wins the game, it will be me. I run this team like a well-oiled machine. He laughs along with me.
“We win by 40, and you buy the alcohol,” he says. It’s almost a guarantee that we will win the game tonight. Leading by 27 at the end of the first half? Yeah, we're fucking beast.
“It’s a deal,” I say, rushing back out onto the court. A night out is just what I need after the last two weeks. Every second that I didn’t spend working out or practicing was spent fantasizing about a woman I met in a club. I need to get my head out of my ass and get my cock back in the game.
Chapter Six
Skila
I barely make it to the toilet before projectile vomit shoots out of my mouth, coating the bowl of the toilet. Slumping against the seat, I wait for my racing heart to slow and the watering of my mouth to dry up. I hate getting sick, abso-fucking-lutely hate it. My whole body shakes uncontrollably, making it hard for me to stand, but I manage.