Chapter 15
TATUM
The years were starting to catch up to me.
There was no two ways about it.
I’d experienced the aches and pains of football enough to have become accustomed to it, even managing around my neuropathy, which had taken years to fully understand and adapt to.
Wildgrass though?
It kicked my ass a little more every year, becoming harder and harder trying to keep up with those young guys.
But that was okay.
I liked to believe it slowed the aging process down, even if just a little bit. I’d never tell the lie the real old folks liked to bandy about, that it was keeping them young.
Shit, not me.
I liked to, and had to, quite frankly, be for real with myself about my limitations, on and off the field. The toll they took. Especially with my position being one of the most dangerous ones on the field.
It was why, at least in part, I was up at the ass crack of dawn on a horse, riding out with my father and brothers. No true intention, not really, just putting eyes on the land, and spending the last bit of time together before I headed back to the airport with Rori.
I had physical therapy and neurology visits waiting, as well as a check-in with Cole and Jordan at RSM. My physical health, brain health, emotional health, all had to be checked on as we approached the season, which would be here before I knew it.
And a host of obligations in the meantime.
The draft would be coming up in just a few days, the Kings’ opportunity at pulling fresh talent from college ball. I liked to keep my eyes on what was happening with that. Pretty shortly after, there would be the rookie minicamp, which they always asked me to be a part of.
This year was no different.
We had several voluntary practices and workouts sprinkled through. And then, just before summer, a mandatory minicamp.
Then pre-training camp.
Then training camp.
Pre-season.
The season.
All the mandatory workouts and practices and film and team-building, so on and so forth.
Essentially, my break was over.
But, I couldn’t think of any way I would have rather spent it than at Wildwood, especially bringing Rori along.
“You know since you brought her all the way out here your mama expecting you to put a ring on that girl, don’t you?” my father asked when we stopped at the creek to let the horses drink.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Who said anybody was getting ready to do all that?” I asked.
My brother Timothy laughed. “The internet, man. Those pictures we have from yesterday set the streets on fire.”
I sighed.
The pictures—and videos, which was wild—were from nosy bystanders who didn’t have anything better to do than putting other people’s business on the internet.
Not that we were exactly trying to hide anything or had anything to hide, but it was frustrating to just be having a good time with somebody and have people who didn’t have anything to do with it start putting their own narratives around it.
“Monty’s ass is so mad,” Trey chimed in. “I saw something showing how he was up earlier than we are talking shit. Like he not about to have a baby to take care of.”
“I don’t know about that one,” my father said, his voice solemn.
Resolved.
“Tatum… if you’re serious about this young lady, Montgomery could prove himself to be a problem. And if he is, well… we might have to put him down. I don’t see many ways around it.”
Eyes wide as fuck, mouths twisted in confusion, me and my brothers looked at each other, then looked back at him.
“Put him down?” I repeated, laughing. “Pops, please! Relax so much.”
I was chuckling and shit, but I knew this man. He was the most laid back person on a day to day basis, but when it came to stuff like this?
He was not joking at all.
“I see I haven’t taught any of y’all as well as I thought I had.” My father shook his head. “He threatens the peace of your lady. Which in turn, threatens your peace. You gonna have to do something about that.”
“I don’t think she’s necessarily his lady, Pops,” Tim said, and my father’s face wrinkled up.
“The hell? Then why you bring her out here?”
“She needed the break,” I explained. “Needed to kinda get away from the city, clear her mind.”
“So you wanted to do that for her?” he asked, and I nodded.
“Yeah. I think it’s done her well.”
“Oh I’m sure it has,” Pops replied. “Meeting your mama, laying up with her, nice little vacation for you too.”
I grinned. “Yes, actually.”
“But that’s not your lady?”
“Well—”
“Boy that’s the dumbest shit I ever heard,” Pops fussed, not even waiting for me to explain myself. Lie to somebody else. Like I said, that nigga cannot be allowed to run amuck on your lady’s mental health.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed. “But murder ain’t the answer, old man.”
“Who said anything about murder? I’d never say anything about murder,” he said, tossing his hands up and me and my brothers laughed at that.
“Yeah, you never say anything.” Tim chuckled, falling into line as we started back toward the house. “But it’s heavily implied.”
“That’s all that’s needed. You picked up the drift, didn’t you?” Pops asked, wearing a smirk. “But yeah, I know you young guys have your different ways of handling things. Pussy ways.”
“Daaaamn,” Trey laughed.
“What, a shotgun not being the first resort?” I teased.
My father shrugged. “Nobody says you gotta use it, but letting a motherfucker know you got it? That goes a long way sometimes.”
“Hey, no argument there,” I said.
And Trey, bringing up the rear, agreed. “We might have to go remind ol’ Josh if he keeps messing with Tam.”
“Oh, I already let Josh’s daddy know,” Pops assured. “Told him his mama was gonna be crying at a gravesite if he messes with your sister again. Trust me, the message got across.”
Again, he was dead serious, but in this case, I didn’t mind as long as the message got across and Josh was no longer bothering my sister.
As far as I was concerned, it was good.
We made it back to the house right on time for breakfast, which Grandma Jenny spent trying to convince Rori to stay a little longer while I headed back to Connecticut for my team activities.
Or as she referred to it, got out the goddamn way.
She also was dead serious.
Fortunately, it was something Rori was able to take in stride as we ate, and then said our goodbyes. After breakfast, we finished packing up and embarked on the ride back to the airport.
I reached across the console to squeeze her thigh. “So… closing verdict. Are you glad you came?”
“What?” She grinned. “Coming out here was about the best thing I probably could have done for my mental health. This has been amazing,” she gushed.
I grinned. “Even the mud?”
She groaned. “Even the mud,” she admitted. “Even though I do not appreciate the story that’s being told with all the pictures that were apparently taken of us out there. And video,” she added. “Sierra sent me a damn fan cam someone made of us this morning.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
Being the tall, handsome, talented heartthrob I was, I was quite familiar with the concept of the fan cam—pictures and video added together of the subject being sexy, funny, sad, angry, whatever. One of me and Rori was wild though.
“Yeah, we’re not even like… a couple like that, right?” Rori asked, looking to me for guidance on our status, I guess.
I smirked at her. “I don’t know, Miss Martin. You were giving ‘I’ll beat every bitch in here up about my man,’ according to Tam and Geneva, so I don’t really know if you can say that.”
“Oh my god,” she groaned, dropping her face into her hands. “Can you not remind me about that?”
“Nah.” I shrugged. “I’m just sayin’, you gotta ask yourself that question.”
Her head popped up, and she looked at me. “What do you mean? You’re what… leaving it up to me? I thought we were vibing.”
“Shit, that’s what I thought too. You saying something changed?”
“No,” she said immediately. “I mean, we had a great time, we always have a great time.”
“Yeah, and you were literally in my family’s house, so you couldn’t ghost me like you usually do.”
“I don’t ghost you,” she argued.
“Whatever you wanna call it then. Just make sure you’re not doing that shit when we get back.”
“Oh?” she countered, eyebrow raised at my tone.
“Dead serious, sweetheart,” I told her. “I know when we get back home—you back in Blackwood, me back in Connecticut—things will be busy for both of us. You’ve a business to run. I’ve got an upcoming season to prepare for. It might get a little tough for us to keep up with each other, so it’ll require a bit of effort. Now, if you tell me you’re not really trying to do that, I’ll accept it, but I’m definitely trying to keep up with you. And if you’re trying to do the same, we can’t be dodging each other.”
“I guess you make a good point,” she admitted. “I told you what that was, though. Not ghosting you.”
I nodded. “Yeah, you told me what it was, but now I’m telling you what it’s going to be.”
I wasn’t trying to scare or pressure her, and truly, I was good with our “just vibing” dynamic.
I wasn’t sure I actually had the time to nurture anything more than that.
And as long as it was an “I’m not sure”, to me, that meant it really needed to be a “no” to protect both sets of feelings. What we were doing now kept it breezy, and if we were both good with that, I didn’t see a reason to change anything.
We went separate ways at the airport after we landed in Blackwood, being way more conscious of eyes on us than I really preferred to have to be, lest the internet was full of “farewell” fancams an hour from now.
I still had my flight to Connecticut, so I couldn’t see her all the way home, which I hated, but as she reminded me, she was indeed a grown ass woman.
Fine.
I didn’t have to like the shit though.
Once I was home, I checked in and made sure she was safely settled before I got in my own bed and knocked out, getting in as much rest as I could to prepare for the busyness of the next day.
Appointment with my neurologist, physical therapy, and then finally, the meeting with RSM.
As soon as I walked in, I knew from the look on her face that Cole was not that pleased. But she was never that pleased with my off-field behavior, so what else was new?
“Cold World, what’s good this morning?” I asked, pulling her attention from her phone. To my surprise, her expression shifted to a smile as she looked up.
“Plenty, and I told you to stop calling me that.”
“You’re mean though, so it’s fitting.”
She faked a gasp. “I’m not mean. I’m stern. If you wanna see mean, I can get Bellamy in here though.”
“Hell nah, I’m good,” I told her, putting a hand up. She was referring to another agent that worked with them, known for handling the “difficult” clients everybody else had a hard time whipping into shape. “You calling me a problem child?”
“Today? No,” she chuckled. “Today, I’m liking the pictures and all that of you and Rori from your family estate. Very wholesome.”
“Family estate?”
“Is that not what it is?”
“I guess,” I shrugged. “Shit just sounds stuffy. And we’re not stuffy people.”
“Clearly,” she agreed, holding up the phone. “Looked like big fun. And the perfect precursor to this interview you’ve got tonight with Arnez and Arizona.”
Right.
That was one of the major points of this meeting, debriefing before I went on In The Zone - Blackwood. It was as casual as professional interviews went. The set was designed to look like a nightclub almost, dark colors, neon lights, tropical leaves, drinking encouraged, all very reminiscent of their home setup on the West Coast.
But the resulting discourse could be very, very serious.
It didn’t have much, if anything, to do with actual football, but controversy could certainly affect public opinion, endorsement opportunities, front office attitudes about what number should be on my contract paperwork, all that. The hope was that it raised my profile, put me on people’s radar, blah, blah, blah.
Positive outcomes.
But… it could easily go the other way as well.
As such, Cole was sure to give me a warning. The pictures from my time at Wildwood with Rori might be “cute” and all that, but it also represented a shift in how we, and our relationship, were perceived.
There was a lot of potential for things to go really bad.
But I wasn’t worried about that.
Things going bad wasn’t even an option in my mind where Rori was concerned.
We were going to be good, and I took that same energy into the interview with me.
Speaking with Arnez and Arizona was always a laidback energy, which was a huge part of the appeal for me. I’d interviewed with them before, back when their show was a radio format. Now it was a podcast that had a visual element attached, and the production was a lot higher, which I liked for them. Despite the “gossip” nature of what they did, they’d never leaned into that malicious energy a lot of our successful media platforms latched onto.
It was refreshing to watch them grow.
It was laid back, a little drinking, fun questions, the exact type of energy where it was obvious I would be asked about personal relationships, meaning, Rori.
They didn’t disappoint.
“Okay,” Arnez started. “Enough beating around the bush… so you really just took that man’s fiancée from him, huh?”
“Wow,” I replied, dropping my head to laugh. “I don’t know if I would say it like that.”
“Shit, we would.” Arizona cackled. “And I mean… as you should. Rori Mitchell is fine as hell, and deserved much better than what Monty was throwing at her.”
“Now that’s an assessment of the situation I can agree with.” I nodded.
Arizona leaned in. “So you’re calling Monty a bitch, correct?”
“Oh fa sh—damn, I almost walked right into that, didn’t I?”
She waved a hand at me. “Yeah, keep walking.”
“You know I can’t do that,” I chuckled.
“Why the hell not?” Arnez asked.
“Not my story to tell,” I answered, and they nodded together.
“Oh, your public relations people aren’t playing around. They told you not to say anything?”
“They didn’t tell me not to say anything.”
Arnez sucked his teeth. “Okay, then what can you say?”
I thought about it for a moment, then answered. “I can say that… I think Rori Mitchell is an incredibly smart, incredibly beautiful, incredibly successful woman, and I enjoy every moment of time I get to spend with her.”
“Okay that’s cute,” Arnez said, and Arizona nodded. “Mmmhmm, real cute… y’all be fucking?”
“Damn.” I laughed, shaking my head. “You know I’m not about to answer that.”
“And you know that not answering is an answer, don’t you? Just say it. What are y’all? Friends? Friends with benefits?”
“She’s definitely the homie, no question there.”
“So yes, y’all be fucking.”
“I mean, I can’t decide how that gets taken, but me and Rori are good.”
“Mmhmm,” Arizona mused. “I don’t know why you trying to play it cool. We all saw those pictures of you kissing her, all covered in mud. You took her home to meet your family. She met your mama.”
“Does your mama like her?” Arnez asked.
“My mother adores her, as a matter of fact,” I said. “As well as the rest of my family.”
“See, that’s your boo!” Arizona shrieked. “When is the wedding?”
“Come on, man,” I laughed. “We’re not even on that type of time. Me and Rori, we... We’re cool. We’re vibing. That’s it. Just vibing, that’s all.”
Arnez wrinkled his nose in disbelief. “So you saying it’s not serious?”
“I’m saying that we are vibing.” I repeated, and Arizona smiled.
“Okayyyyy, but I’m just saying. From the pictures, and the videos, and the reports, it looks like a lot more than just vibing to us.”
“Mmmhmmm,” Arnez agreed. “But if that’s where you want to plant your flag in the sand, you can do that. Just know. We love us some Rori Mitchell.”
“Right,” Arizona chimed in. “So if you hurt her feelings, you hurt all our feelings. Just like Monty. It’s on sight for me and you, nigga!”
“Daaaamn,” I said, as Arnez shook his head.
“I know. They’ll edit that out, but I mean that shit,” Arizona laughed. “Deeply.”