by Teagan Kade
I take the teacup. “Sounds like a badass.”
Alissa smiles and it’s not the fake, ornamental smile I’ve seen before around her husband, but a genuine ray of sunshine. “I think you’re a badass woman.”
I bring my arm in front of me. “It’s the tattoo, isn’t it?”
She sips, watching the pool. “I’ve got one too, you know.”
“A tattoo?”
She winks. “It doesn’t see the light of day too often.”
I sip myself, surprised how complex the taste of the tea is. “I bet.”
“I see you’ve developed a soft spot for Phoenix.”
“Is it that obvious?” I laugh.
“I can’t profess to knowing him as well as I’d like, but I’ve never seen him like this, not since I’ve been with Stone.”
“He is… unique.”
“They all are in their own way, perhaps not what they project to society.”
I quickly scan the area to make sure we’re alone. “Does the same apply to Stone?
“Hmm,” she mumbles over the top of the teacup, bringing it down into her lap. “I’m afraid Stone King is more set in his ways.”
Just what I was afraid of. “I wanted to thank you for all your help with the auction. It was a wonderful thing, you did.”
She waves it off. “Please. I have nothing better to do, but I understand you’re looking for ways to get the mayor to change his policy, application of public pressure and all, yes?”
She continues. “I can help, of course, but are you sure you understand what you’re up against?”
“Oh, I know perfectly well.”
Alissa reaches down to her LV handbag, taking out a folded series of papers and spreading them out on the table. “I’ve already started to compile some ideas, local and interstate organizations and activist groups that would be willing to come onboard.”
I pick up a sheet of paper and marvel at how detailed it is. “You are sure you want to be part of this?”
I feel like we’re starting a society here, sisterhood of the secret ass-kickers or something. It’s exciting.
We spend the next half an hour detailing the plan, making notes and working out the best angle of attack. If he wasn’t before, the mayor’s going to feel the heat soon enough. He’ll be damn well roasting up in that office of his when we’re done with him.
I don’t think either of us notice Phoenix has shown up until we hear him calling for his father through the house.
We both turn, see him pass by one of the windows. He’s wearing his basketball uniform, seems to have cut the session with Bria short.
“Dad!” he calls.
I don’t like the tone of his voice. Something’s not quite right here.
I consider going to him. He hasn’t seen us out here, but before I get a chance to get up, I hear Stone’s voice coming from inside. “Into my office. Come on.”
Stone’s office backs the pool, probably ten feet away or less, the door open and certainly enough to hear every word clear as day.
I didn’t even know Stone was home and he certainly didn’t see me.
“Take a seat,” he tells Phoenix.
Alissa and I remain quiet, listening.
“What’s on your mind, son?” Stone asks. “You heading north or south? Jamie was telling me even China was interested, not that I’d advise such a thing in the current climate.”
“Dad…”
“Denver might be a contender, actually. I looked through their offer and—”
“Dad!” shouts Phoenix. “I’m done.”
I stiffen at the words, sending a panicked glance Alissa’s way. She remains composed.
Stone laughs it off. “What’s that supposed to mean? Done deciding? Done jerking off? Help me out here, son.”
I hear the exhale from here. “I’m out.”
“Of?”
“The game. Basketball. I’m done playing. I have been for a long time.”
This time it registers. “If this is some bullshit prank you and your brothers dreamed up to get the old man going, I’m not in the mood. Was it Titus’s idea?”
Both Alissa and I flinch as a hand is slammed down onto something. “Listen to me, Dad. I. Am. Finished.”
A chair being pushed back. “Like hell you are.”
Phoenix’s voice grows and shifts. He must be pacing around the office. “I don’t get a single scrap of enjoyment playing anymore. Did you know that? I’d rather pull my fingernails out than pick up that fucking ball again.”
“You better watch your tone, young—”
“Don’t you see it? Don’t you watch me out there?”
Stone raises his voice. “I watch you kill it out there. You don’t think it’s your right to share that with the world, your gift?”
“It’s not a gift, Dad. It’s a fucking curse.”
“Oh, enough,” Stone rambles. “Do you know how much I’ve invested in you, in all of you, but especially you. I made you into a superstar, Phoenix, and you can go on to great things.”
“I still can,” Phoenix fires back, “but it won’t be shooting hoops. I’ll break my arm if I have to.”
Stone is losing his patience. “Don’t be so god damn dramatic. What the hell’s brought this on? Is it that girl, she the one pulling on your heartstrings? Or is it your dick?”
I go to stand, but Alissa places her hand on my arm, shaking her head. “Let them work it out,” she says quietly.
I sit reluctantly, the mood in the office deteriorating into a shouting match.
Another thump on the desk, Stone’s voice loud enough to hear through the whole house now. “What the hell am I going to tell Jamie, your coach, your brothers, Phoenix? Have you thought about that, how fucking selfish this is?”
Alissa hasn’t moved at all. You’d hardly know she was there.
“What’s selfish is forcing me to do something I hate, or does my happiness not matter to you? Has it ever?”
“You… I…” Stone stumbles. “Ungrateful, little s—” He stops himself, trying a new tack. “Is it money? Because we can fix that. Jamie can go back to—”
“It’s not the money!” Phoenix screams, losing it. “Do you think I’m that shallow. Really, Dad?”
“Honestly? I think you’ve had a bit of bad pussy and damn well lost your mind.”
I stiffen because I don’t want to let this turn physical. I feel I have to intervene, but again Alissa holds me firm, her eyes telling me what I already know.
Phoenix just sighs, refuses to engage. “I assure you, father, my mind is clear as it’s ever been—maybe for the first time. And it’s made up. I can still do great things, but it won’t be wearing this.”
I imagine him holding the hem of his basketball jersey. He doesn’t sound angry anymore, just disappointed, which is funny considering the power dynamics at play here.
“I’m out of here,” Stone storms. “I’ll be back with you’re ready to speak sense instead of this gibberish.”
“I’m not changing my mind.”
There’s a long, extended silence before a door slams.
Alissa nods and we rise together. I move to the office and rush inside to find Phoenix, embracing him. “You okay?”
He nods, but I can tell it’s taken a toll on him, can feel it in the way his body is clenched tight, his shoulders high.
“I’m going to go find Stone,” says Alissa behind me. “Don’t worry about him. He just needs time to process.”
Alissa drifts away and I take Phoenix’s hands, looking him in the eyes and marveling as always at the clarity and depth of their color. “You did it.”
“I had to.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told Bria and she’s going to tell the world. I had to beat her to it.”
“I take it the basketball session didn’t go so well.”
“She wasn’t there for basketball and I wasn’t there to put up with her shit.”
I nod, secretly high fiving my in
ner self. I had a bad feeling about that girl. “Alissa is right. Your dad just needs time.”
Those eyes cloud over. “You don’t know him like I do.”
“I know you can’t drop a bombshell like that and not expect a bit of shrapnel.”
“I would have been better off bringing an actual hand grenade in here, trust me.”
Almost on the cue the office door bursts open and in stomps a red-faced Stone, spittle erupting from his mouth as he shakes his finger at Phoenix. “Get out, right now.”
I thought he’d left.
Alissa’s behind him, trying to pull him back, but he shrugs her off, stepping aside and pointing out the door. “Get the hell out. You’re no son of mine.”
“Dad…”
“You’re not welcome here anymore, Phoenix.”
The heat has left his words, but the sting is still there.
Stone refuses to even acknowledge me, and I’m not about to get into a shouting match.
I squeeze Phoenix’s hand. “Come on,” I whisper.
We walk out together, Alissa giving me her best ‘I tried’ face. I do my best to smile back and help Phoenix leave the house. Only when one of the staff closes the door behind us does it become real for him. I see the change.
I rub his chest as he watches the house. “It’s going to be all right. You did the right thing.”
“Right, right, right,” Phoenix repeats. “Who knows what that even means anymore? What’s right?”
“I’m sure your dad doesn’t mean it.”
Phoenix finally looks at me and the sadness I see there is almost too much to bear. “That I’m disowned? Oh, I’m quite sure he does.”
It’s a very subdued ride back to my place. I don’t think there was any agreement where we should go. It just seemed the natural progression. I’m sure once word reaches the other King brothers it will be a real shitshow, but for now it’s Phoenix and me, and I intend it to remain that way until I can make him see sense. Yes, this is going to hurt like a bitch for a while, but in the end, it’s going to be for the better.
That said, it’s hard to tell someone who’s caught in a fire that it doesn’t burn.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
PHOENIX
I thought only babies slept this peacefully.
Heather has barely stirred the half hour or so I’ve been watching her. She’s been flat-out organizing the soup kitchen, putting pressure on the mayor… Just generally being awesome.
If I reflect on myself, I don’t really know what I’m feeling apart from a strange inner peace. I haven’t heard from my father, didn’t expect to, but now it’s out there it’s like I’m finally fucking free. It’s liberating, but I also know that liberation comes at a cost. It’s not going to cost me Heather. That I am damn sure of.
I fielded a few calls from my brothers. They seemed surprisingly sympathetic, especially Peyton. Ever since he hooked up with Erin he’s become quite the walking marshmallow. Nolan thought it was a crying shame at first, shared his future misery at not being able to secure free courtside tickets, but once I explained my reasoning he came on board.
And Titus. His opinion mattered most. We didn’t have to say much. We share some of that twin telepathy you can’t explain. He told me he knew something was up, expected this, but what he didn’t expect was what I planned to do next. I haven’t even told Heather yet.
I decide to go out for a run before the day starts in full. It’s going to be a big one and I sense I’m going to need a clear head if I want to service it intact.
I close the bedroom door and throw on the tank top and running shorts I keep in the back of the car. I put in my Airpods and dial up the playlist I always put on before a game entitled ‘The Ass Kicker’. Put On by Young Jeezy starts to play as I head off down the street.
It’s short-lived.
Before I’ve even made it to the corner, I see the first of them approaching—what appears to be a college reporter with microphone in hand, cameraman stumbling along trying to get his equipment in order.
A sliding door opens on another van down the street, more of them emerging, this time local news.
I switch off the music, take out my Airpods.
Yep. It’s going to be one of those days.
God knows how I missed them all hiding out here, how they even found me, but they’re here and there’s no time better to deal with it.
I stop and place my hands on my hips as they encircle me, the questions coming rapid-fire.
The local newswoman has managed to elbow her way to the forefront, microphone shoved into my face like she’s looking for a saliva sample. “Is it true, Phoenix? You’re giving up basketball?”
“Is it an injury?” comes another.
“Is this the end of your NBA chances?”
“Did Crestfall kick you out?”
“Did the arrest have something to do with it? Are you in trouble with the law?”
God damn.
I put up my hands. “Please, let me speak.”
That shuts them down, the only sound in the air the chip, chip, chip of camera shutters firing. It’s quite a crowd, power in silencing it like this. I can see how it could become addictive in time.
Where to begin. “I’m going to keep this brief. Officially, I will not be accepting any team offers going forward. My basketball days are done.”
The questions swarm again, but I use my hands to settle the crowd once more, speaking calmly and evenly. “This decision wasn’t made lightly, nor does it involve an injury or any action, intentional or otherwise, on the part of Crestfall Sports Academy. It is a decision I’ve made alone and without external influence.”
I’m surprised how logical I sound.
The questions come again. I hear one above the others: “How did your father take the news?”
I ignore it. “That will be all, folks. Now, if I could get back to my run…”
I’m about to jog off when the local news reporter manages to find her way in front of me again. “What are you going to do now, Phoenix?”
I go to move past her but stop. Fuck it. Let them have the truth. “Actually,” I tell her. “I’m going to apply to culinary school.”
There’s a murmur of laughter. Even the reporter in front of me smiles. “No, seriously, what are your plans?”
“Culinary school,” I repeat.
“You’re serious?” asks someone else.
“Of course.”
The laughter appears to have turned into shock, a good five seconds passing before the questions erupt again.
I put my hands up. “That’s it. No more questions, thanks.”
They try for another couple of minutes. I’m boxed in, but I remain silent, repeating what I’ve already told them. Once they realize there’s nothing more to squeeze out of me, they start to leave. I wave the last of them goodbye and take a seat on the brick wall that runs by the sidewalk.
It’s done. It’s all out there now and there’s no going back.
Liberating, yes, but just as terrifying in equal measure.
“Vultures, huh.”
Heather takes a seat beside me on the wall wrapped in a faux mink blanket. Her hair’s out, light bags under her eyes, but she looks absolutely stunning in the morning light. I’m about to scoop her up and head back inside when she looks to me. “How do you feel?”
I can’t keep the smile away. “Honestly? Pretty damn good. You heard what I said?”
“About culinary school? Sure did.”
“You think I’m joking too?”
She shakes her head and I know she believes in me, can see it in her eyes. “You can do anything, Phoenix. Whatever you want to do, you know I’ll support you.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean, I’ll always be able to kick your ass in a cook-off, but—”
I shoulder bump her, letting her steady before putting my arm around her and tucking her head into my chest. I breathe her in, wouldn’t be anywhere else. “You don’t think i
t’s a stupid idea?”
She opens the blanket and throws her leg over me, straddling my thighs and wrapping the blanket around us, her hands locked behind my neck. She pulls away so we can see each other. “You have my full support.”
I smile, can feel her support, know I’m cherished and heard when I’m with her. More than that, I know I’m going to be happy cooking with her, laughing, basketball and its hold over me a million miles away.
“I love you.”
The words come naturally. I don’t have to force them or think it through. They leave my lips like a whisper, the joy of them registering on her face. “I love you too.”
We kiss wrapped together on the brick wall, the sun emerging from behind the rooftops on the other side of the street.
I place my forehead against hers, breathe deep and long.
“You want to help Gordy and I set up the building we just bought?” she asks. “We want to open as soon as possible.”
I’m conscious of the flat heat of her crotch against me, wouldn’t mind expressing my love in a more physical way beforehand, but I nod. “Of course. I’m yours to do with as you wish.”
She pulls back a little, spreading her legs and pressing tighter against me. “Is that so?
“I did want to check out the culinary school I was thinking of sometime today, get my application in.”
“It’s local?”
“About an hour south.”
“Sounds great, but how about breakfast first?”
I reach around and find her buttocks, lifting us together from the wall and walking back towards her place. “How about breakfast second?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
HEATHER
THREE MONTHS LATER
“What’s on the menu, doll?”
Sal is looking a lot better these days—all of them are. It’s not just the promise of a good meal, either. It’s a warm place to gather, to share stories, and get out of the elements.
I point at the dishes with the ladle I’m holding. “We’ve got a Romanian stroganoff here, four-cheese potato back there, and Phoenix’s spin on a Waldorf salad.”
“I’ll take a bit of everything,” Sal smiles, holding her belly. “I’m eating for two, you know.”