Page 45 of Play Hard
His voice startled me, and I jumped, my back crashing into the column at the top of the steps. One hand went to my chest as I watched him approach, getting right up in my face. His entire six feet, two inches, two hundred and eleven pounds had come from the shadows in the corner of the porch. I gasped when his hands went to my waist, and his lips fell to mine.
Kneeing him in the balls seemed appropriate but I didn’t want his howling to cause a scene, so I settled for planting my hands on his chest and pushing him with all my strength. He wasn’t expecting that, so he stumbled back, shaking his head.
“You still actin’ stupid, I see,” he said.
Feeling trapped, I moved away from that column, until I stood a few feet away from him. “I don’t think we need to debatewho’s the stupid one in this situation, Adrian. What are you doing here?”
“Came to get your ass, since you’ve got me blocked and shit.” He extended a hand to me, and I stared down at it.
His favorite diamond watch glittered at his wrist. He wore black jeans and a T-shirt, the Cuban link chain around his neck. “C’mon, bae. This shit is gettin’ out of hand. Let’s get out of this country ass town and go home, so we can talk this out.”
I shook my head. “You’re wild.” I didn’t know what else to call it…delusional maybe? “You think you can just come down here weeks after all this shit popped off and I’d pack up and return to the city with you? For real? That was your plan?” It was so farfetched I chuckled.
“We can’t settle nothin’ here.” Because I hadn’t accepted his hand, he let his arm drop to his side. “Look, I know this situation is fucked up?—”
“Oh, we’re calling it a situation now? Because when I told you that woman called me talking about you being her baby daddy, your exact words were ‘fuck her and fuck you if you believe her.’ Do you remember that?” He did, I could see it in the way he rolled his eyes and sighed.
“What was I supposed to say?” He shrugged. “She was…I mean, sheislying. And now this shit is gettin’ crazy with lawyers and investigations. The league is on my back, and you’re my agent, you’re supposed to fix this!”
“Iwasyour agent. Which is why my ass is also on the line for your stupidity.” I wanted to reach up and smack the shit out of him, but I told myself violence wasn’t the answer. At this point, it wasn’t going to get either of us out of this mess, even if it would probably make me feel better…at least temporarily.
“Look…” He paused, then dragged a hand over his face before stepping toward me. I refused to cower from him. Adrian hadnever been physically violent with me and I didn’t expect him to be now.
“I need you, bae.” He stopped in front of me but didn’t touch me this time. “I need you to stand by me through this. We can fight it together. The league, the Feds, this bullshit with Lindsey. I just need you to do your thing, to work shit out like you always do. We’re gettin’ married, remember? We’re gonna bethepower couple in the NBA. Come on, Serra, go home with me.”
He was scared and pitiful. Once upon a time the pleading in his tone, the fear in his eyes would’ve made me want to do any and everything I could to help him. I’d done that when he was in danger of losing an endorsement deal with a water company because of a video of him stumbling drunk out of a bar and peeing on a bouncer’s shoes. The fight that broke out between the bouncer and Adrian’s security had gone viral and had taken Adrian’s PR team three days to have taken down. But by then, the company was already scared and ready to pull the deal. The loophole I’d built into the contract diluted their morality clause and prevented them from terminating the contract when Adrian himself hadn’t been the one involved in the brawl.
“I am not your savior. I was supposed to be your fiancée, your partner in life and in business.” Saying the words out loud now sounded as hollow as I felt at this moment. Was I really going to marry this man? Is this what I actually thought my future looked like? “You have your team who’re already making statements, and I’m dealing with my part in this. But, just like I told you when I had your ring delivered to you at the hotel, this shit between us is over. Go home, Adrian.”
I resisted the urge to say go back to Lindsey and your unborn child. If I kept referring to that issue it would seem like I gave a damn, which at this point I didn’t. Maybe I never had. Embarrassment had played a huge part in finding out about Lindsey, the baby, and the gambling charges. Beingbrokenhearted over Adrian’s betrayal had been a very small percentage of what had me packing and heading down here to Providence.
Adrian shook his head. “No.”
“No?” I frowned.
“No.” He closed the short distance between us. “I’m not leaving without you.”
Before I could utter another word he’d gripped my wrist, yanking me into him. “You’re coming with me and we’re gonna fix this shit, together,” he gritted out. “Ain’t no ‘this shit between us is over.’ You can just shut that stupid shit up right now.”
“Let me go!” I tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. Pain soared through my wrist as I raised my free arm to swing at him. He grabbed that wrist too, pulling both my arms down until they were between us as he pushed me back against the front of the house.
“Shut the fuck up! We’re gonna go in here and you’re gonna get your shit so we can go!”
“I am not going anywhere with you!” I shot back. “Get off of me!”
NOAH
I heard her scream before I saw her and my heart dropped.
I was coming to the house to see what was taking her so long to find the boxes. Things were winding down, and as anxious as I’d been for this event to happen, I was now ready for it to end. I was ready to get Serra back to my place where we could strip down, get into a hot shower, then fall into bed. I loved having her in my bed whether I was inside of her or just watching her sleep. That had quickly become where she belonged.
But as I jogged around to the front of the house and saw him with his hands on her and heard her begging him to let her go, I no longer imagined that happy scene of us in bed together. Everything went red, my heart hammered in my chest as memories of a similar scene assailed me. I barely felt my feet taking the stairs and only breathed again once I grabbed that bastard by the back of his of neck and pulled him off of her. He fell to the ground when I tossed his ass across the porch, then I was on him. My fists flew faster than whatever this muthafucka was trying to say. I hit him again and again, not feeling the pain of the skin ripping on my knuckles or caring about the blood spurting from his face. I just kept hitting him. Just like that night in my mother’s living room.
A sound pulled at me from the darkness. It was quiet at first, like weeping or something. But my mama was dead. I knew that the moment I walked through the front door. Her leg wasn’t just broken, her face wasn’t just swollen and bruised like I’d seen it so many times before, she was gone. He’d taken my mama from me and all I could think about was taking something from him. My arms continued to move, fists continued to make contact with crackling precision. But there was a sound.
“Noah, baby, please.” She was crying. She sounded scared and she was crying. So she couldn’t be dead.
I was wrenched out of the fog of fury by strong hands, multiple sets and more voices, this time from those I was very familiar with…those I trusted.
