Chapter 17
chapter seventeen
Rocks
Nico
The last few days have been hell. A fire was started in one of the auxiliary rooms at Basille Resort Park Lane in London. Thankfully, the fire was put out before any actual damage was caused.
I had to fly to London two days ago, and because Tiffany is back at work, I couldn’t take my family with me. I hated being away from her and Noah.
“Everything is fine, Mase. I just touched back down.”
I was in the back of the SUV heading to the hotel where the awards ceremony will be held.
I wanted to be back in time to escort her here, but we had some delays on my flight.
Even though I told her she could take Mira, there was never a chance I wasn’t making this event.
I bought my ticket the day after I told her about it.
“I want to see you tomorrow. Meet me at Salv’s at noon.”
If we were meeting at Salv’s, it meant there was something big that needed to be discussed.
“Alright. I’m pulling up to the hotel,” I say as Roc stops the truck right in front of the entrance. I don’t even wait for him to come let me out. Grabbing the rose I picked up on my way here, I climb out of the back seat.
“Tell sis I said good luck. See you tomorrow.”
The phone goes silent letting me know he’d hung up.
I make my way over to the door, Ghost on my heels.
We step inside the building and make our way to the ballroom.
Suddenly a goddess in black passes up ahead.
She disappears into the lady’s bathroom.
Just that glimpse of her has my fucking knees nearly going weak.
I have to admit, I’m a sucker for my wife. There isn’t another woman that can hold a candle to her.
“I’ll scope the room,” Ghost says. I guess he knew where I was headed.
“Jake should be close by.”
“He’s right there.”
I turn to the left where Ghost pointed, and sure enough, Jake is standing in the shadows. His job is to blend in. Not to crowd my wife but to be close so that she’s never in danger.
Not far from Jake, I spot Cyrus leaning against a wall eating something. He grins at me as he stuffs his mouth. I shake my head before heading to see my wife when she walks out the door.
No matter how hard life gets, this woman will always be able to calm me down and ease my emotions. My second phone dings letting me know I have a message. This is the phone I use for Saint. If anyone is on this line, it means it has something to do with my guns.
Rome Brix: 500,000
Rome was one of my three US gun runners. He and the Outlaw Brotherhood moved my guns through the streets like the shits were a rare fucking gem. $500,000 in profits in five months was lite work for them.
Me: See you in a few weeks.
Rome Brix: You got it.
I slide my phone back in my pocket just as the creak of the restroom door draws my attention.
My jaw fucking unhinges when Tiffany walks out.
The way her smile lights up her face holds my attention for only a second.
Her body in that dress grabs hold of me and doesn’t let me go.
Not only is it not the dress that painting muthafucker tried to buy her, it’s way better.
It wraps around her body like I want to.
I don’t see any panty or bra lines, which means there is a huge possibility she is naked underneath.
What I wouldn’t do to have her legs wrapped around my head. It’s been too long since I’ve tasted my wife. Even the thought of her pussy flavor on my tongue has my cock so hard it aches.
Forcing my eyes away from her body and the things I want to do to it, I look at her face. Everything in me stills. Although she is smiling, her eyes are a little red, which tells me she was either crying or on the verge of crying.
I push away from the wall.
“What’s wrong?”
I step up to her. Her smile lifts higher.
“Nothing,” she lies. “I didn’t think you would come.”
“I was always going to come.” There was no need for her to doubt that. “Why were you upset?” This was the important question.
If one of these tight-ass fuckers said or did something to my wife, I’d make sure they regretted the day they ever met her.
“It doesn’t matter.” Her smile lifts higher as she steps further into me.
She’s seeking my comfort which means something happened.
I don’t complain. Instead, I wrap my arms around her.
She shoves her hands under my suit coat and tugs at the back of my shirt down by my waist. I drop a kiss on her forehead.
The deep breath she takes as if she’s just happy to be in my arms has me feeling like a king.
“I’m glad you came,” she whispers as if she’s in a bubble.
“I’ll always be there for you.”
I’m a little pissed at myself for ever making her believe I would miss this.
She and I have been on two different wavelengths lately.
I thought after I started being home more; we were getting back to where we once were.
However, the day she was at the warehouse and flinched when Ralphie called me Saint made me realize we still had a long way to go.
“Excuse me, if everyone can start making their way back to their seats now, please,” a squeaky female voice says over a speaker system.
Tiffany groans before pulling away.
“Ugh, I’d rather go home.”
Her comment catches me off guard.
“You don’t want to stay and see if you won?”
She glances away before turning back to me. “Yeah. Sure.”
I didn’t like her tone. She’s been excited about this since I told her she was nominated. Who or what took her excitement away?
“Go on back to your table. I’ll join you.” I kiss her head once again before she remembers she’s supposed to be mad at me and stops me.
She walks away. I stare at the way her ass fills out that black dress. Cyrus moves with Tiffany, entering the ballroom after her. Jake comes over to me.
“What happened?” I ask immediately.
He shakes his head. “A few of the other finalists have been giving her a hard time.”
“How?”
“Saying she doesn’t deserve the award. Even mentioning you being the reason. One suggested she slept her way to the award.”
The ringing in my ears starts. The rose in my hand snaps in half from how hard I’m squeezing it. I shut my eyes and count, calming the rage. When I open my eyes, I look at Jake.
“Names.”
“Jason Hickman, Paula White, and Gloria Hampton. Don’t worry, I’ve already sent their names to Maseo. I figured you’d want their information.”
I nod my head, pleased with his work. Heading into the ballroom, I immediately spot Tiffany at the front of the room. Her back is to me, and I can tell by how stiff her shoulders are she’s uncomfortable. I make my way closer to the table.
“I’ve been designing for fifteen years. Unlike some people, I actually have the experience to be here.”
The Ken doll looking muthafucker is talking to the plastic Barbie lookalike, but his comment I’m assuming is directed at Tiffany.
The roaring in my ears grows louder. I pull the chair away from the table and take the seat to the left of my wife. The table grows quiet when I sit. Tiffany places her hand on my thigh under the table as I slide closer to her.
“Oh look,” the Asian woman with the high cheekbones says. “It seems she brought her wallet.”
The others at the table all laugh. I notice the man on the other side of Tiffany and his wife doesn’t join them.
I lean my head to the left and listen for the crack. I then do the same thing on the other side.
“Gloria Hampton, Paula White, and Jason Hickman,” I say their names so that I will be sure to remember them.
They glance at each other before looking back at me. I move my water glass to my left. Reaching over my plate for my drink irks me, since I'm left-handed. I continue to rearrange my dinner setting, trying to keep my hands busy so I don’t allow the rage inside me to take over.
Once my cutlery and glassware are arranged perfectly, I sit back in my seat. All eyes are still on me.
“When I was nine, I liked collecting rocks,” I start while tapping my finger against the table. “I would spend my recreation time walking around looking for the best rock. Once I was done, I’d line them up on the bench and admire them.”
The entire table seems to be entranced by my story, including my wife.
“One day, a kid much bigger than me came over and knocked all my rocks onto the ground. He picked up some and threw them as far as he could. He told me they were stupid and a waste of time. I was heartbroken. I really liked those rocks.”
Jason looks over at Paula as if he were confused. He didn’t have to worry; I was getting to the point.
“A few nights later,” I go on to say. “While everyone was sleeping, I slipped out of my bunk and loaded my sock up with every single rock I’d collected over the year.”
Underneath the table, I reach for my wife’s hand. Wrapping her slender fingers between mine, I squeeze as the roaring in my ears grows louder.
Looking the three main individuals directly in the face, I finish my story. “I walked up to the young man’s bed while he was sleeping and proceeded to beat him repeatedly in the face with that sock filled with rocks.”
Paula gasps and covers her mouth while Jason’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.
“When the staff finally pulled me off the boy, I was covered in blood and he was unrecognizable.”
Spotting a server with a tray of champagne, I wave him down. Taking the glass from him, I place it in front of me on the table before giving everyone my attention again.
“If I did that over some rocks that I liked, what do you think I would do for my wife whom I love?”
I turn to Tiffany. Part of me expected fear or disgust from her, but all I see is curiosity shining back at me. There is a little concern tucked in her eyes but not disgust.