Chapter 16 Kaeden
Mid-morning The Next Day . . .
Beads of sweat cover my brow as I stare at the turf like it’s betrayed me instead of the other way around.
“Evans, I don’t pay your ass to let the receiver make you look like a statue. Get your head out of your ass. If you fucking play like this on Sunday, we’re gonna get our asses handed to us,” Coach Sumlin shouts.
Blinking, I blow the air gathering in my lungs. “I got you, Coach.”
“Are you sure, because you look like shit today? Does having me mean you’ll stop getting swallowed up on a simple post route?” Coach Sumlin continues.
Nodding wordlessly, I put on my helmet while trying to regain my focus, or at least fake it until I finish this practice.
Running to the line of scrimmage, I get in position, trying not to think about Kyelle.
The whistle sounds, and my wide receiver does a stutter step, easily separating us since I’m already off.
Biting too early, I can’t recover as the wide receiver jogs past me, catching the ball before running into the end zone.
“Evans! Get your ass off my field. How the fuck are you spacing out again? Do you need to lie on my damn couch and unburden your swollen ass shoulders? Or do I need to call the team shrink for your ass?” Coach rants again.
Ripping off my helmet, I toss it without caring where it lands as my face hardens and fire runs through my bloodstream. Plopping on the bench, I drop my head as the voicemail I left Kyelle emerges tightening my chest.
Me:
I saw that bullshit Undercover Room posted. Going cold isn’t the way to address this shit. At least give a nigga a chance to defend himself. I ain’t the nigga they’re making me out to be. Call me.
It took me fifteen minutes after practice yesterday to realize why Kyelle didn’t reply to my message.
That fucking Undercover Room headline made me out to be a nigga who switches women like undergarments when it can’t be further from the truth.
Sure, I’ve had my share of wilding where women are concerned.
But I’ve been single for a minute now, so having them create a false narrative about me is about to fuck up what I have going on with Kyelle.
The problem is, I genuinely fuck with Kyelle and ain’t on bullshit with her.
Not getting a call or text response from Kyelle had me snapping at Jaleel and Mica last night.
After Mica cried, telling me I hurt her feelings, I hid in my room and had Jaleel handle her bedtime routine.
Practice continues without my input, allowing me to succumb to my melancholy.
Kyelle’s silence is loud and has me feeling like I’m underwater without the ability to climb out.
Seconds tick to minutes, and I’m oblivious to everything but thoughts on how long Kyelle will keep me on ice.
It only took me a second call attempt to discover that her phone was turned off.
That discovery had given me a small semblance of relief because it meant at least Kyelle hadn’t blocked me.
“Yo, bro. What do you need? This sulking and shit ain’t you.
You ain’t been down this bad since ho ass Meshay left.
I can’t watch you fall down another rabbit hole.
Either climb out, or I’m having you committed with your lovesick ass.
” Rickey’s gravelly voice penetrates my ears causing a light smile as I flick him off while lifting my head.
“Fuck you, bro. You ain’t shit.”
“Nah. I saw those wack ass headlines, so I know what it is, but this ain’t a good look either.
Letting mothafuckas see you sweat is bad for your health.
Next thing you’ll be doing is making sappy CDs or ordering singing telegrams for your bae.
Snap the fuck outta of this shit, or I’m gonna tell Coach you do need the therapist.”
“Man, if you read some of those—”
“Hold up. I know good and damn well your ass didn’t go down that hole. Please tell me you didn’t.” Laughter escapes my mouth at seeing Rickey’s tight eyes, frown, and bewildered expression.
“What y’all over here talking about?” Jaelon walks up asking, preventing me from replying to Rickey.
“Aye, so do you think Kyelle will—”
“Come to your funeral. Or keep the secret about your decaying body in my backyard?” Cutting off Jaxon, I give him a death glare, daring him to finish whatever statement he had been about to speak.
Fire mixes with ice in my veins as murder flashes in my eyes for the linebacker who’s twice my size bold enough to speak on my woman. Separation or not, I ain’t about to play the radio with these niggas about Kyelle.
“Whoa. I was just—”
“Itching for this sensitive nigga to fold you like a pancake. Ain’t your mother ever tell your big ass to keep it cute?
This nigga has been off all practice, so why would you step your dumb ass in the booby trap he set?
” Rickey’s face is a mask of confusion while staring at Jaxon before Jaelon starts talking again, effectively shifting my focus and murderous thoughts.
“Let me give you some advice, bro. In times like these, our women’s natural defense is to run . . . Don’t let her. Swoop down on that ass and make her hear you out,” Jaelon says without an ounce of humor as his eyes flash with a hint of familiarity with my situation.
“What the fuck are y’all standing around Evans for? Hit the showers and go home.” Coach Sumlin’s booming voice causes everyone, including me, to do as we’re told.
Following behind the guys, I ponder ways to get Kyelle to talk to me and backup plans just in case the first one doesn’t work.
“Aye, Evans. Deal with whatever is humbling you outside of my facility, or the next time you’ll be sitting on the bench during our next game,” Coach Sumlin says to my retreating back, causing me to give him the okay sign.
Jaleel:
Clearly, you and Little Bit are on y’all period and shit. I’m putting my fucking foot down. Come smooth shit out with your daughter before you go anywhere else.
I thought my vehicle was headed to the east side of Ribax after practice.
But the text from my brother let me know that I have to throw water on the firewood simmering at home first. Thankfully, I’ve had six years of practice calming the storm that is Mica Evans, so I’m not empty-handed.
Exiting my vehicle, I grab the items for Mica and head to the front door, hoping she’s in a forgiving mood that doesn’t throw a monkey wrench in my plans.
Inserting my key in the lock, I hesitantly open the front door, listening for the occupants.
Hearing faint voices coming from the direction of the kitchen, I head that way.
“Keep talking with all that attitude, and I’m gonna bust your little ass, Little Bit. I’m about tired of your backtalk today.” From the hardness in Jaleel’s tone, I can tell Mica is tap dancing on his last nerve.
“Whatever, Uncle J. You always say—”
“I know you ain’t in here disrespecting your uncle, Mica Evans,” I say, cutting off whatever sassy response Mica was about to express.
Her eyes balloon at seeing me walking into the kitchen as a smirk forms on Jaleel’s lips. “Mhm. What were you saying?” Jaleel asks Mica.
“Stop taunting her, and then you wouldn’t have to worry about her talking to you crazy,” I tell Jaleel before focusing on Mica. “What’s your problem, little Miss Sass?”
A cute pout forms on Mica’s lips as her eyes water, causing my chest to tighten and my feet to move toward her.
“I’m mad at you, Daddy. You hurt my feelings.”
“That might be true, but it doesn’t give you an excuse to mistreat your uncle. Now give me a hug.” Opening my arms, I wait for Mica to walk into my embrace before I wrap my arms around her tightly. “I’m sorry for last night. If I promise not to be mean to you, will you forgive me?”
Mica sniffles while bobbing her head up and down as I bend to pick her up before kissing her head several times.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“No, I’m sorry, Cupcake. I was having a bad day, and you didn’t deserve me to snap at you. Will you forgive me? I brought you a present.” My tone is apologetic as a smile upturns my lips when Mica’s eyes glow with happiness.
“I’ll always forgive you, Daddy,” Mica says, kissing my chin as my heart expands as my world partially resets.
“Thank you, Cupcake.”
“Mhm. Did you bring me more books?”
Laughter sounds in the room, causing me to look at Jaleel who’s smirking at me. “Not until he eats c—”
“Shut up, ni—”
“Daddy, you’re not being nice again.” Mica cuts me off, causing me to glare at Jaleel.
“My bad. I didn’t buy you any books this time. But I’ll get you some soon. I did get you some of your favorite candy and a new bear though.”
“Okay. Can you ask Ms. Kyelle to pick some out for me?”
Mica’s question has my lips twisting, and the reminder of my original plan post-practice slams into my mind. Now that Mica and I are straight, it’s time to pull up on Kyelle.
“I will. In fact, let me go ask her now. Can you promise to be good for your uncle while I’m gone?”
“Aw, man. Can I just go with you?”
My head immediately starts shaking as my mouth verbally rejects the idea. “Not this time.”
“Okay. I’ll be good for Uncle J.”
“Thank you, Cupcake.” Kissing her forehead, I nod to Jaleel before heading out of the kitchen with my thoughts and mission set on Kyelle.
“You’re welcome. I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you so much more, Cupcake.”
My vehicle is barely secure in Kyelle’s driveway an hour later, when I damn near trip over my feet getting out.
Speed walking to her front door, I repeatedly push the doorbell, anxious to smooth things out with Kyelle.
When Kyelle doesn’t come immediately, I knock continuously like RPD with an active warrant.
“Open the door, Ms. Ky. You’ve hidden long enough,” I thunder, not caring about anyone overhearing me.
Alternating between ringing the doorbell and knocking, I bite my lip as my jaw clenches the longer I wait for Kyelle to open the door. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I note the time, 6:50 PM.
“Where the hell could she b . . .” My words trail off when I realize Kyelle might still be at her bookstore.
With renewed determination, I tap the door twice and walk off the porch, returning to my vehicle.
Getting in, I sit still for a second to gather my wits to drive safely to the bookstore.
The adrenaline surging through my body could cause me to run every light or run somebody off the road.
Kyelle’s face flashes in my mind causing my heart to skip several beats, and an ache surges across my chest at the thought of her being mad at me.
My phone vibrating shifts my focus, forcing me to look at the incoming text from Jaleel.
Jaleel:
Since you practically ran out of here, I’m assuming I’m on bedtime duty again, huh?
Me:
Good looking out, bro.
Jaleel:
Good looking out, my ass. I want a raise because pussy appointments aren’t a part of my caregiver responsibilities with your pussy-whupped ass.
Dropping my phone in the cupholder, I start my vehicle and back out of Kyelle’s driveway without answering Jaleel. If I have it my way, I’ll be eating so much pussy tonight that it’ll linger on my tongue during practice tomorrow.
“I’m coming for your pretty ass, Ms. Ky. Fuck what Undercover Room is talking about. I ain’t letting you get away from me.”