Page 79 of Played
If he knows me like I do, he better.
“Solomon.” He spins around, scrubbing a hand over his carefully styled gray-and-blond hair so several of the short strands stand on end. “I’m frustrated and, yes, angry as hell, because you’re not appreciating the magnitude of this video. Both professionally and personally.”
“The fuck?” I scoff, rising to my feet too. “Yeah, I do. Someone violated my privacy and now my ass—literally—is everywhere. And even if I’m able to get them taken down, which I’m damn well going to try, the damage is already done. Then there’s Adina—”
“Wake up, Solomon!” he barks. When I arch an eyebrow, he growls under his breath and drags a hand over his hair again, trailing it down his face. “Forget that woman. She’s brought nothing but trouble and problems since you met her. If you’d only stayed away from her like you promised—”
“I didn’t promise that,” I interrupt him, slicing my hand through the air as if I’m cutting through that lie. “I never promised that. You heard what you wanted to hear. I said there was nothing between us, but that was then, and this is now. I have a right to change my mind and make decisions about my private life. Why do I have to stand here and justify that to you?”
“Because you do,” he bites out, stepping toward me but drawing up short. “Because this is not just about you. You’re an employee here who represents this organization. You’re a father whose son will be affected by this. You’re a hus—”
“Don’t you say it,” I rasp. “Don’t you fucking say it.” Guilt slams into me like a hockey puck to the chest. My hand flies to cover my heart that slams against my rib cage like a wild, feral animal desperate to get free of its cage. “Don’t bring Kendra into this.”
Maybe he realized he went too far, because Nate falls silent and turns back to the window. After several seconds he faces me again, andregret lines his face. For a moment, he appears older, tired. I almost feel sorry for him, because I know he’s thinking about his daughter.
Almost.
I’m too busy trying to suck in air that doesn’t carry the metallic taste of pain and shame.
“I’m sorry,” Nate says, voice low. “That was out of line and below the belt.” Blowing out a breath, he rubs the back of his neck. “Listen, Caroline and I don’t expect you to live like a monk or even never get into a relationship again. It’s just ...” He swallows. “It’s too soon; it’s only been two years, and the pain for all of us is still fresh. It’s too soon for Khalil and for you. Hell, you just got out of counseling, and we had to force you to go through with that.”
“You mean it’s too soon for you.”
“That too. I won’t lie. I’m not ready to see another woman around Khalil. Not when Kendra isn’t here, where she’s supposed to be.” He looks away, his jaw clenching. “And even if we were all ready for this step, this ... Adina isn’t the right woman. Not for Khalil, and with this shit”—he flings a hand toward his desk and the monitor—“obviously not for you. I stand on her bringing nothing but issues with her.”
I don’t address what he said about none of us being ready for me to be in a relationship. Hell, I believe that. But how does he get to decide that for me? Who made him God—a God I’m still on the outs with, so I’m not even listening to Him—where he determines when I’m good enough to move on?
It’s the truth, sometimes the two years Kendra has been gone feel like two weeks. But the days when I can’t move out of bed are much fewer and farther between. The grief, the loss ... it’s getting better. Slow as fuck, but it is getting better. Khalil helps. Hockey helps.
Adina . . . helps.
Shit.
I backpedal away from that last thought, erasing it from my mind like it never appeared. But the knowledge of what I won’t accept echoes in my head, my chest. Because it’s true.
And fuck if that doesn’t feel like a betrayal.
I shake my head, refocusing on Nate.
“So that other people have intruded in her life and caught us in certain compromising moments is her fault? Like the bullshit from the picture and that this video is sure to bring makes her life easier?”
“And what if it does?” he shoots back, that fierce gleam in his eyes again. “Just take a moment, step back, and think about it, Solomon. Both times you’re with a woman, someone’s around to capture it? A little too coincidental, don’t you think? Yes, there were images of you and Kendra, but never ones like this. This stinks, son. It stinks to high heaven, and there’s only one common denominator.”
“Nate, you’re reaching. What the fuck could Adina possibly gain from that?” This time, I jab a finger toward the monitor. “She’s exposed. Put under a microscope. She’s a fucking firefighter, for godsakes. This doesn’t help her in any way. Nah. I refuse to believe she’s behind that shit. There’s no way. I know her.”
“You’ve had your dick in her, Solomon. That’s a big difference from knowing someone. You knew Kendra. Regardless of spending four months with her before you got married, you knew my daughter down to her soul, and vice versa. The years, the time, the family you built enabled that. You just met this woman, what? Weeks ago?”
The way he keeps sayingthat womanandthis womangets under my skin and on my nerves.
“And you ask what could she gain from this?” he continues before I tell him to check that. “Notoriety, which for some of these people out here is better than fame. What about attention? Money. Firefighting doesn’t pay much; we’re both aware of that. What if she decided to supplement her income by selling compromising pictures and video of Solomon Young? What if she’s decided being a firefighter is no longer for her and this is a stepping stone to something else? Socialmedia influence? Hell, I don’t know. Because, let’s be honest, Solomon. You have much more to lose, to protect. Your image. Your brand. Endorsements. Your privacy, and that of your son. Are you willing to take that risk? I’m telling you now: I’m not.”
Just take a moment, step back, and think about it, Solomon. Both times you’re with a woman, someone’s around to capture it? A little too coincidental, don’t you think?
What if she decided to supplement her income by selling compromising pictures and video of Solomon Young? What if she’s decided being a firefighter is no longer for her and this is a stepping stone to something else?
My immediate reaction is to dismiss his accusations as bullshit. The woman I’ve let in my space, my house, my son’s life ... the woman whose body I’ve been balls deep in, have had wrapped around my own ... the woman whose smile can banish away the shadows in my mind, my chest, whose voice and laughter bring a calm to my chaos ...
No, she wouldn’t sell me out like that. She wouldn’t use my son for a buck or fifteen minutes of fame.
