Chapter 8
Courtney
The buzzing of my phone cut through the sleep haze. I slapped at the nightstand, trying to find the offending device without
opening my eyes. It took a few pats before I made contact just as it stopped.
Before I could even lift my hand, my cell started vibrating again. Squinting one eye open, it took me a moment for the screen
to focus enough to read the name flashing on the screen.
I groaned before sliding the green button to answer the call. “Sash, what’s up?”
“Bay-bee, I nee’ you.”
I had to yank the phone away from my ear because of the loudness of her yelling over the music in the background. Fuck. I
rolled to sitting, rubbing my hand over my face to scrub away the rest of the sleep so I could focus on whatever drunken randomness
Sasha was about to start at three a.m.
“Sasha, what . . . what do you need that couldn’t wait ’til the morning?”
“A riid. Darrell won’t le’ me drive.”
That was a shot of adrenaline to wake me. And an instant spike to my heart rate. Not only was she drunk, she was with some man. I turned on the bedside lamp and tossed the covers back. “Who the fuck is Darrell and where the fuck are you?”
I put the phone on speaker then tugged a sweatshirt on over my T-shirt. She didn’t answer right away, and it sounded like
she was fumbling with the phone. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! My heart hammered as I yanked a pair of joggers on. My wife was out somewhere, possibly alone and in a dangerous situation,
and I had no idea how to fucking help her if she didn’t let me know where she was. Shit! Shit! Shit!
Her ass could be reckless at times, but putting herself in danger? Where the hell were her friends? Even that ain’t-shit one
would be better than nothing. “Sasha! What the fuck is goin’ on?”
Muffled talking before a man’s voice on her line stopped me cold. “Hey, Courtney, it’s me Darrell over at The Candy Shop.”
The tightening in my chest loosened. I remembered him. He was the bouncer at the strip club Sasha used to dance at. Luckily,
the folks there knew her and would keep her relatively safe. And out of trouble.
“Hey, Darrell. What happened?”
“Nothin’, she just had one too many and I ain’t finna let her drive.”
“Nah, nah, I feel you. Just sit her somewhere and I’ll be there in a bit. Thanks, Darrell. Really.”
“No problem.”
After disconnecting the call, I massaged my temples. That was a roller coaster of emotions in too short a time too early in
the morning. Slipping on my slides, I grabbed my wallet and keys from the nightstand, turned off the lamp, and quietly exited
my friend’s guest room hoping I didn’t wake her.
As I walked toward the elevator, I fired off a text to Tina, letting her know where I’d gone in case I didn’t make it back before she woke up in the morning. She’d been kind enough to let me stay. I didn’t want her thinking I’d just dipped out.
The streets were damn near empty, which made the drive quick and painless. It also provided me with more quiet time to think—honestly,
the last thing I wanted to do. I’d been doing nothing but thinking, wondering, fixating on how the hell to fix whatever was
wrong between me and Sasha. And that was the real issue, I didn’t know how we’d gone so fucking left. Yes, we’d had our ups
and downs, but Shae hadn’t been wrong when she pointed out how this time was different.
I’d left our home. I’d left her. Especially given her history with her parents, I knew she probably wouldn’t handle it well.
Even temporarily, but still . . . I’d left. That’s not who I was. I didn’t give up and quit. I didn’t run. But I’d felt I’d had no choice but to leave. I could handle
a lot. Put responsibility on my shoulders and pushed through because that’s how I was built. I did it for my sister. I did
it for my team. And, of course, for my wife.
However, I had to believe the sacrifice was worth it. That what I was fighting for meant something. And that belief had been
shaken.
I was so deep in thought, I arrived at The Candy Shop apparently damn near on autopilot. Given it was close to closing time,
the parking lot was nearly empty. I pulled up to the valet stand, parking close, but out of the way in case they had to retrieve
cars of the last few stragglers.
“Ma’am, we’ll be closing in like twenty minutes,” the young guy commented as he opened my door.
“It’s all good, my guy. I’m just doin’ a pickup. Darrell called me. Am I good to leave it here?”
He nodded and went back to his seat as I headed inside. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim lighting. Darrell was perched on a stool just inside the blacked-out double doors.
“Courtney, hey.”
“What up. I hope she wasn’t too much of an issue.”
“Nah, not really. The more she drank, the more she tipped so . . .” He shot me a look that was sympathetic, possibly.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, already dreading looking at the bank statement after tonight. There was a performer on the
stage dancing to a remix of “Let’s Get It On” who seemed to be barely dialing it in for the straggler crowd. The smokiness
of the place gave everything a semi-hazy appearance, which wasn’t helped by the low lighting.
Darrell led us through the main area back toward the VIP rooms. A couple of the waitresses stood at the bar, chatting, and
I threw up an acknowledging wave as I passed.
Inside room one, I walked in to see Sasha and Denise dancing by the pole. Sasha was laughing and giving Denise intermittent
smacks to the ass while Denise twerked in front of her.
You have to be fucking kidding me.
This was a surreal, “be careful what you wish for” moment. I had no issue with Sasha getting dances. Hell, we’d gone to strip
clubs as a couple plenty. But seeing Sasha with her . . . especially with everything she said, and knowing how handsy and flirty my wife got when drunk, my annoyance level spiked to
a hundred. Darrell cleared his throat, getting their attention. Denise stood slowly, the same smug smirk she had the day at
the arena making its way onto her face.
Sasha looked in our direction, and a giant grin formed on her lips. “Bay-bee. Whadda you doin’ here?”
She stumbled toward me, falling into my arms, forcing me to take a couple steps back to steady us both. She wrapped her arms
around my neck and stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss me. I turned so she made contact with my cheek.
“I woulda got her home,” Denise said, strolling up to us. Her body glitter shimmered in the low light, with the heaviest concentration being between her bare breasts so that patrons’ attention would be drawn there.
Sasha leaned into me more and I tightened my grip on her waist. “Well, she called me, so I guess she didn’t trust you to do
that.”
Denise crossed her arms over her chest, the smirk dropping from her face. Darrell stood at the doorway, looking nonchalant,
but I was sure he was ready to step in should things escalate.
“Bay-bee, I’m hungry. Take me to Waffle House.” Sasha kissed at my chin, attempting to tug my head down to reach my lips,
which broke the stare down between me and her friend.
Leaning down, I gave Sasha a quick peck then cut my eyes back up at Denise. “Sure thing. Let’s get you out of here, first.”
I usually wasn’t the jealous type, but Denise’s attitude coupled with Sasha’s lack of boundaries was a bad combination for
me. Plus, I had no doubt Sasha had probably told Denise I’d left, but Sasha was still my wife, and that fact needed to be
clear. Whatever problems we may have, we were still a we.
“M’kay. Take me home, bay-bee. I jus’ wanna be wit’ you.”
“We’re going, baby. I wanna be with you too.”
Denise rolled her eyes and smacked her lips. “Whatever. I gotta pack up anyway.” She sashayed out of the room, brushing against
me in the process.
I blew out a breath and shook my head. I was too tired for any of this shit. Sasha drooped beside me, and I had to adjust
to support more of her body weight.
“Yo, you need some help?” Darrell asked.
“Nah, I got her. If you could grab her purse though.”
He nodded and quickly stepped over to the couch to retrieve her bag. I tried to get her to walk with me, but she was fading fast. Bending, I scooped her up, knowing it’d be easier to carry her out than to continue to try and get her to move on her own.
As I held her close, my mind wandered back to the last time she’d been in my arms like this. She’d insisted I had to carry
her over the threshold when we’d returned to our hotel room after our impromptu, late-night wedding following one of my games
in Vegas. It was customary because she was a bride.
When I had playfully reminded her I was also a bride, she insisted on giving me the same treatment. I laughed quietly to myself,
recalling how my life had flashed before my eyes at her attempt and I’d thought we’d wake the whole floor when I screamed
as we hit the ground.
Sasha nuzzled her nose into my neck. “Do you lub me?” she asked, then started giving me small kisses.
Her actions brought me out of the trip down memory lane. “Yeah, Sash, I love you.”
She tightened her grip on me, causing me to stumble a little with the shift of her weight, but I managed to maneuver us out
of the club with Darrell leading the way. When I made it outside, I slowly lowered Sasha to the ground. She was unsteady on
her feet and clung to me, resting her head against my chest. I held her close, slowly running my hand up and down her back.
“Bay-bee, I missed you.” She was louder than necessary, and Darrell cut his eyes over at us, but quickly darted his attention
away when Sasha squeezed my breast and snaked her other hand around to grab my ass.
She always tended to get hornier when she drank, so I wrapped my fingers around her wrists and gently restrained her by locking
her wandering hands behind her back.
A lazy grin spread across her face as she pressed closer to me. “I like when you get all bossy.” She placed sloppy kisses to the base of my neck. “You gonna spank me cuz I been a bad girl?”
Darrell and the valet tried to look anywhere but at us as my wife attempted to dry hump me in the parking lot. I did my best
to ignore the familiar comfort of her body pressed against mine. This aspect of us always worked. And I had missed her as
well, but I was struggling trying to process all the conflicting . . . everything else.
“Let me get the door,” the valet said.
“Actually, her car,” I corrected. “We’ll take hers and—” I looked at Darrell. “Is it cool if I leave mine overnight? I’ll
come get it in the morning.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m the one that would call for the tow, so all good.”
Since between the two of us Sasha had the nicer car, it made more sense to leave mine behind. Not that the area was necessarily
bad or anything, but leaving a Honda behind instead of a Jag was way more logical.
Sasha wiggled in my arms, apparently catching her second wind and getting more agitated by the second. “Bay-bee, why won’t
you kiss me?”
I looked down at her. Her eyes were half closed, full lips parted, inviting. Tempting. It would be so easy to give in, to
kiss those luscious lips. To ignore everything, pull her into my arms and pretend all was okay. And truthfully, part of me
wanted to, but luckily the valet drove up and brought me back to my senses. Darrell opened the passenger door before the valet
even got out of the car.
“Court . . .” She whined out my name as I got her situated in the passenger seat.
She tugged my shirt as I went to buckle her in, pulling me closer to her. She puckered her lips up and squeezed her eyes tight in an almost comical fashion. I couldn’t stop a smile from forming at how ridiculous she looked. With a soft sigh, I relented, leaning in to give her a quick kiss.
When I tried to move back, she held tight, begging for another. I obliged, but instead of it being chaste like the other,
she gripped my face, kissing me hard. She thrust her tongue forward, moaning when I gave her entry. She tasted of chocolate
and Crown. It was easy to get lost in her, but I remembered where we were and pulled back.
Her eyes were open and glossy. “You left me,” she whispered, then let go.
I let out a heavy sigh and finally threw the covers back, no longer able to ignore Vuitton’s small barks from the other
room since Sasha was still passed out. I thought he’d sleep in considering I’d had to let him out and clean up his mess once
we got home close to five because Sasha hadn’t locked him up before she’d gone out, but apparently not.
Groaning, I pushed to standing, stifling a yawn while giving my body a full stretch. I stumbled my way from the room, rubbing
my eyes. Hopefully, Vuitton would do his business quickly because all I wanted was to go back to bed. I’d been up ’til after
midnight hanging with my friends, then had to get up and retrieve Sasha.
I liked my sleep. I needed my sleep. To be at my best, I required a minimum of nine good, solid, deep, uninterrupted hours.
I was operating on two, three if I was lucky. It hadn’t helped that Sasha’s teary-eyed statement about me leaving her had
kept me from dozing off after I’d gotten her settled.
I scrubbed my hands down my face. I was drained in more ways than one. When I got to Vuitton’s room, he barked more and jumped at the gate. “Hush. I’m here. I’m here.” It was entirely too early for that much damn noise.
He squeezed his tiny ass through the barely open gate and darted off. I ambled behind him, yawning again. His impatient ass
came darting back up, spinning in circles on the stairs, whining.
“Stop, Vuitton.”
He yelped and I yanked my foot up. My other heel slipped, and I lost my footing. Free-falling backward, I reached out, attempting
to grab the handrail, but my fingers only grazed the wood. Pain shot through my back when my ass hit the edge of the step
before I tumbled the remaining way down, landing on the hardwood floor with a sickening crack.