by Untamed
“What’s on your mind?” she asked, walking up beside me.
“Nothing,” I said plainly.
“I know you.”
“Give me a sip.”
She turned the bottle up to my lips.
“Thanks,” I said after I swallowed the beer. “But it’s nothing.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m going to go play volleyball with the kids.”
“A’ight. Dinner will be ready in a minute. Hey, Trin!” I called out before she walked off.
“Yeah, babe.”
“Tomorrow, cover yourself. Ya know, with clothes.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t be out like that around my cousins is all I’m saying.”
“It’s just Thomas and Aaron—”
I raised my voice and cut her off. “And I’m just saying. Just . . . wear some clothes.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “A’ight,” she conceded and walked off to play with the kids.
I would kill any muthafucka for Trinity—any muthafucka.
Chapter Twelve
Ryan
I never confronted Charice about Lincoln’s accusation. See, I was a better man than that. I knew Lincoln had only said that to get a rise out of me. He wanted me to go insane with jealousy so that it would cause a rift between Charice and me. I wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t about to use me so that I would leave my wife and he could slip his trifling ass back in to help mend her broken heart. Not me, and not on my watch.
Likewise, I knew Charice would never betray me by hanging around Lincoln. She was extremely loyal, and besides that, Lincoln had broken her heart, so he could miss me with that bullshit lie. I had home field advantage. I hadn’t been with Charice since I was sixteen and not learned something. I knew Charice had a big heart, but once she gave it away, she wouldn’t easily be swayed away, even if that person happened to be her ex-fiancé.
I did, however, express several times that I wanted her to stay as far away from Lincoln as possible. That nigga wasn’t doing shit but lurking, and I wanted Charice to be on her p’s and q’s at all times. It wasn’t that I was afraid to lose her, but I knew that grimy-ass nigga wasn’t going to leave well enough alone. I got my wife back fair and square, simple as that. So far, all things had been kosher, and I intended to make sure it stayed just that way.
Charice had finally begun feeling at ease with our life in New York, especially since she felt comfortable leaving Lexi at home with our nanny, Johanna. Her extensive background check had come up as straight as an arrow, and we even met her seven-year-old son, who became easy friends with our boys. We also had our maid there during the day for extra precaution. You could never be too safe. After the death of our daughter, she barely wanted to let the boys out of her sight, let alone Lexi. Moving to a different state with people she didn’t know only heightened her discomfort level for a while. So, I was happy when she began to settle into our new normal.
Together, we were making major moves, both personally and professionally. Prior to moving to New York, I joined efforts with three of my teammates to open an afterschool center for inner city kids. They could do their homework with the help of tutors, read, play basketball, or take recreational hip-hop dance. Once Charice and I married and moved, she jumped immediately at the chance to volunteer as a dance instructor at the center, being that dance is another true love of hers. I was against it at first because of the loss of Charity and because she was pregnant, but Charice wouldn’t hear of it. She loved both the kids and dancing, and I could tell that being involved at the center helped heal her pain.
At the center, we converted one of the larger rooms into a dance studio, complete with a mirrored wall and large picture window for our viewing pleasure. Charice taught the kids until she was six months pregnant, but after that, I demanded she bring in help to actually do the dance moves. She oversaw everything, but it made me more comfortable to know my pregnant wife wasn’t out there putting her and our unborn child at risk. Nearly all the girls and a lot of boys loved her class, and she’d even managed to put on an exhibition and arrange a competition with other local dance teams. Her devotion to the kids and the program just made my heart swell even more with love for her. When she wasn’t teaching dance, she was providing financial advice as an online consultant at home. I was extremely proud of her for stepping up and following all her ambitions.
What she didn’t know was that I was engaged in talks to try to get her her own dance studio and was close to finalizing those plans. She’d have a full staff, could set up her age limits and requirements, and offer dance lessons how she saw fit. I loved Charice, and I’d spend every day of the rest of my life proving that to her.
Today was one of the rare occasions that I was at home because I didn’t have to make an appearance, be a part of some charity event or awards presentation, shoot commercials for any of my endorsement deals, or be a model in some designer’s show. My off season was just as busy as being in season at times, so I enjoyed sitting back and shooting the breeze. Johanna was there with her son, and so was our maid, Ms. Pauline, so I decided to take my boys along with Johanna’s son, Clarke, to the center to shoot some hoops. Not to mention, I never got tired of watching my wifey shake her ass on the dance floor. Oh, the memories I have of that both in the center and after hours in the bedroom!
As we walked in, her class was in full swing. She had about fifteen kids rehearsing a new routine that was hot to death. She glanced out the window and winked at me, and I blew a kiss back at her. She was so sexy in her workout pants, fitted tank top, and tennis shoes. Yes, that was my baby and my heart; one out of only four reasons I had to live. Yes, that included Lexi. I loved Charice so much that it made me love Lexi despite who her biological father was. To me, she was my daughter and I was her father, and that’s how I vowed to keep it.
The boys and I admired the dancing for a few minutes before we went to see if we could join in with the game that was already going on one of the courts with a few of the regular members and one of my teammates.
“’Sup fellas!”
“What’s up, Ryan?”
“Your wife got it on fire today, boy,” my teammate, Rico, said.
“Yeah, well, stomp your fire out.” We both laughed at my comment. “This is my nanny’s son, Clarke.”
“Hey, my man,” Rico said, giving him and my boys a pound. “How are you enjoying yourself with the Westmore clique?”
“It’s so awesome! I can’t believe I get to meet you and Mr. Westmore! I love my mom’s job!” Clarke exclaimed.
Ryan Jr. laughed. “Our dad is super cool and down to Earth.”
“How can you all live in the house knowing your dad is Ryan Westmore?” Clarke asked, clearly starstruck.
The boys laughed. “To us, he’s just dad,” Ray answered.
“That’s right. I’m always going to be dad first,” I confirmed.
“I’ll tell you what, though. I’m sure Ryan and I can get you some autographs and pictures so that your friends will know you have pro ball players for friends,” Rico offered.
“Cool! So totally cool,” Clarke exclaimed excitedly. “Oh my God, and there’s Lincoln Harper. Three in one day,” he yelled, looking toward the door.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I abruptly turned around to see Lincoln walking in the door. Wasn’t this fantastic? And where did this Casanova-acting nigga think he was going? Gliding in the building with his jeans, tight T-shirt, and shades, he thought gorgeous was just falling off his ass. This nigga really thought he was cooler than a breeze. Clown.
“I invited him. Lincoln does a lot for the community in Texas and in New York, and I figured his presence and expertise would be beneficial,” Rico said.
“We don’t need him,” I sulked.
Rico laughed. “Listen, my man, we’re a team. Whatever this thing is between you and Lincoln, you two gon’ have to chop that shit up and grill it. Besides, Lincoln is my man from back in the day. We used to play ag
ainst each other at rival high schools,” he explained before he ran to catch up with Lincoln. “Yo, Linc!” Rico called out.
“Mr. Westmore, why don’t you like Lincoln Harper? I mean, he’s Lincoln Harper,” Clarke asked.
Ryan Jr. put his hand up to stop him. “Now is a good time for us to go play basketball. Trust me on that one.”
As Lincoln came in, all the kids and teenagers crowded him for autographs and photos, which he happily gave out. The bastard did love the kids. Soon, he and Rico made their way over to me.
“We meet again,” Lincoln said.
I looked at him plainly. “So we do.”
“Okay, so Rob and Dean also thought it would be a good idea to get Lincoln’s feedback and input about the center. You cool with that?”
I shrugged. “I’m outnumbered, so the majority wins,” I said tensely as I eyed Lincoln. At the least, my teammates and business partners could’ve consulted me first.
Rico shook his head. “Well, anyway, Lincoln, these are the basketball courts, obviously. I can show you the tutoring side once they are done—”
Suddenly, Beyoncé’s song “Work It Out” floated out of the speakers of the dance studio. Lincoln turned toward the music. “I’m sorry. What’s over there?” he inquired.
“Nothing,” I blurted.
Rico looked at me as if I’d bumped my head. “Actually, it’s the free dance class. Ryan’s lovely wife graciously stepped in to be our volunteer hip-hop dance instructor,” Rico explained.
Lincoln smiled at us. “Really? Do you mind if I go and watch?” He headed in that direction before the question barely left his lips.
“Yes—” I began.
“This is for feedback and input, right?” Lincoln cut me off.
“Yes,” I said through clenched teeth as I followed him and Rico toward the dance studio.
“Fine then. I’d like to check out all of the activities,” Lincoln said as we all came up to the dance studio.
“Okay, this time we’re going to combine steps three and four into the cross sequence—” Charice was saying as Lincoln opened the door.
“Word, son! It’s Lincoln Harper,” one of the guys from the class yelled. Several of the kids—boys and girls—ran over to meet him.
“Hey, hey people—” Charice called out to the kids, but it was no use. She walked over to Rico and me. “I really appreciate how you all disrupted my class,” she fussed, folding her arms across her chest.
“My bad, ma. It was my fault,” Lincoln apologized. “I just wanted to check out all of the activities in the facility.”
Charice looked at me with confusion.
“Apparently, Rico and the crew think Lincoln’s experience with other programs similar to this one could be useful to us,” I explained.
Charice laughed and looked at Lincoln. “Oh, really now? Word on the street is that you had help reinventing and structuring the programs that you sponsor, Lincoln,” she said matter-of-factly.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Lincoln chewed on his bottom lip and then nodded. “That is true. I did. My program director was the best of the best, and I really valued her opinion. I learned a lot from her.”
Charice put her head down and looked away.
Knowing that he was referring to Charice, I’d had enough. “Look, kids, you all really need to get back to class.”
“Mr. Westmore, can we please get an autograph or photo with Mr. Harper?” Marvin, one of the younger students, asked.
“I’ll tell you what,” Lincoln said, facing the kids. “If you all and Mrs. Charice show me the routine you were about to work on, I’ll give everyone in here an autograph and a photo.”
“No way,” Charice said, shaking her head as I agreed.
“Oh, please, Mrs. Charice, please? Lincoln Harper is my absolute favorite ball player,” Marvin whined.
Charice rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know.”
“Are you chicken?” he asked her. “Just pick one.”
I gritted my teeth. “If it wasn’t for these kids,” I mumbled.
Charice laughed. “Okay, sure. Liza, put on ‘Irreplaceable’ by Beyoncé. I love the lyrics to that song,” she said, staring directly into Lincoln’s eyes. That definitely wiped the smirk off his face, and I couldn’t help but laugh at that.
Lincoln stood fixed in place as Charice danced, acting out a scene as if she were kicking him out to the left, to the left. At the hook, I nearly cried in laughter as Charice and some of the girls began singing: “So, since I’m not your everything, how about I’ll be nothing, nothing at all to you. Baby, I won’t shed a tear for you, I won’t lose a wink of sleep, ’cause the truth of the matter is, replacing you is so easy.” The clincher was when my Ricey grabbed me as the supposed “new” guy that was replacing Lincoln then kissed me as we pretended to walk away. All the kids stood up and clapped for that one. Hell, even Rico clapped.
Charice laughed. “This is dance craze week, where we are paying homage to current artists who have changed the game through entertaining performances. Today, we are paying tribute to Beyoncé. So, if Mr. Harper is finished clowning around, we can show him what the program is really about,” she said matter-of-factly.
He nodded. “By all means, do your thing,” he said, sounding crushed. He took his place beside Rico and me, and “Upgrade U” filled the room as Liza hit a button on the stereo system. Charice motioned for me to join her as the boys paired off with the girls.
“Just let me use you,” she whispered.
Pecking her on the lips, I quipped, “I’m your muse, baby.” Just as the intro was coming to a close, I mouthed along with Jay-Z, “What’s higher than number one?”
Charice had choreographed an amazing, clean-cut routine pairing the boys and girls with each other. I loved how they easily worked one-on-one and then could fall into a group routine on the chorus. She was really working me just like Beyoncé had done Jay-Z during the rap breakdown, as a couple of B-boys breakdanced behind us and the others stood to the side. Then, they all finished it with group choreography. I felt like I was in a video. Afterward, Rico and Lincoln cheered, and the kids went wild.
“Yeah, C! Talk yo’ shhh!” I yelled out, laughing as I hugged her.
“Very nice.” Lincoln nodded, even though we could both sense that his feelings were hurt. No one cared about his hurt feelings; not me, and definitely not my Ricey.
“So, can we get those autographs and photos now?” Marvin asked.
“Of course,” Lincoln agreed as the kids surrounded him. Rico went to grab the office camera and some paper, and Charice and I walked out of the studio.
“So, you think he gets the point now?” I asked Charice, holding her in my arms.
She looked up at me and giggled. “Oh, I think he definitely gets it. I’m so wicked.”
“And I love your wicked ways,” I joked with her.
“And I love you, Ryan.” She gazed into my eyes intently.
How could I even think I could live a lifetime without this woman in my life? I was glad that I had gotten my act together and that Charice had given me another chance. She was the glue that held my life together, and I loved her with every fiber of my soul. There was no doubt in my mind that she was supposed to be my wifey. I kissed her passionately.
“I love you, Ricey. I love you so much,” I professed, leaning my forehead against hers.
With our foreheads pressed gently together, we gazed into each other’s eyes, and at that moment, nothing else mattered, not even Lincoln being in New York. As I held her in my arms, I thought about how grateful I was that she’d given me the chance to be her husband, and my spirit felt secure that this was meant to be. We basked in our private moment for a few moments longer before one of the kids came to get Charice.
“You may have had the last laugh today, but sooner or later, your web is going to unravel. When it does, you won’t have anyone to blame but yourself, and I will be standing on the other end, patiently waiting,” Lincoln seethed from
behind me. I turned to face him. “Trust me. What goes around comes right back around again,” he warned. With that, he put on his shades and turned to catch up with Rico.
I just stood there glaring at Lincoln from a distance. When I turned back around, Charice winked at me through the window. I smiled at her. This was my wife, and if Lincoln thought he was going to make me lose her, he’d lost his mind. I was playing for keeps this time, no matter what I had to do to keep her. No matter what.
Chapter Thirteen
Charice
So far, it had been calm around the house. Ryan had been really tense at first, demanding that I stay far away from Lincoln. Hell, he was preaching to the choir. If I could physically move him myself, I would. Fortunately, since the famous afterschool center visit, there had been no more surprise visits from Lincoln, and outside of the occasional drive-by in the neighborhood, we hadn’t seen him. That was wonderful. Maybe we could all coexist without drama.
Who the hell was I kidding? Both my husband and Lincoln were locked into five-year contracts with the Giants. The pay was too good and the team was too awesome for either of them to walk away or risk being traded. Another four years of being forced to interact with Lincoln was going to bring about the inevitable. He’d find out about Lexi sooner or later, and I prayed that it would be at the end of Ryan’s contract, so we could move to another team and get the hell away from Lincoln, at least for another year.
What I couldn’t understand was why he was acting like I was stolen from him instead of him leaving me. I was ready to give him all of me—hell, I had—and he said he didn’t want it. Even after I begged him like a fool, he denied me. It was him, not me. He’d given up his chance, and I wasn’t giving him another one. It was no use crying over spilled milk now, so whatever residual feelings he had, he could light it up and smoke it. Fuck him and anything he had to say about it.
As I turned off my alarm clock to get ready for my early morning workout, I could’ve kicked myself in the butt. I was pissed that I’d spent my last ten minutes of good sleep thinking about Lincoln’s raggedy ass. I had a long day, and I knew this was the last few minutes of good rest I’d have.