“No, but we'll talk about that later.”
“Then, by all means. Shoot.”
“So I was doing a little research –” Kingsley noted my cocked brow, shaking his head. “Not the time. You ever heard of MBPS?”
“MPBS?”
“Munchausen by proxy syndrome. It's like Munchausen, only it's when a primary caretaker causes deliberate harm to someone else for the attention or sympathy –”
“I know what it means,” I interjected. Sweat began pooling in the lines of my palms. “Where are you going with this?”
Kingsley rubbed his lip exasperatedly and took a step towards me.
“You ever notice anything off about Jamie's social media?”
“What do you mean?” I barked defensively, glimpsing at my feet. “So she likes to share, it's not a crime to –”
I stopped, my fists slowly unfurling.
“Are you – are you actually accusing my sister of –”
“Look, I know it's a lot to hear, but I walked in on her the other night –” said Kingsley, raising his palms at me.
“What? When were you even here? Jamie never said anything –”
“Exactly.” Kingsley's wide eyes burned into mine. His words sounded so earnest, and I think that's what was freaking me out the most. “I saw her fucking with Jackson's feeding tubes. She had a needle in her hands and everything –”
“You're wrong. You must have seen something else, and now you're just blowing this out of proportion –”
“Jackson's being poisoned with arsenic,” Kingsley spoke over me, determined to drive his absurd point home. “She's got it all figured out – she doesn't buy it on the market so she doesn't leave a paper trail. She gets it from a dealer and pays in cash. Trust me, I know what I'm saying here – I wouldn't just come to you without proof. I know the dude she gets it from –”
“What's his name?” I challenged him icily, rising to my feet.
Kingsley sucked in his lips, clearly aggravated.
“I can't tell you that –”
“Then you're full of shit.”
“Carrie, I know this is a lot to handle, but you need to set aside the fact that she's your sister, and think about Jackson –”
“Just stop, Kingsley.” I sneered, looking away from him disgustedly. “You don't know what you're talking about. I know Jamie can be a little over-emotional, but that's just how she is. She's a good mother. You don't even know her –”
Right that moment, Kingsley's phone beeped twice with a new message. In our hurry, ¾ of his phone had been hanging out of his back pocket. As a result, the vibration pushed his phone out of his pocket and landed face-up on the floor.
My eyes narrowed at the text of his new message.
“'Are we still meeting at the Brunswick Lodge at 9? – I,'” I recited bitterly. “I? Who's – Ivanka?!”
“Carrie –”
“Go ahead, answer it. I mean, seriously? After everything –”
“Carrie!” Kingsley yelled over me.
“What? I'm talking...” But when I realized Kingsley wasn't looking at me, I craned my head over my shoulder.
Jackson's eyes slowly fluttered open, his eyes shifting from side to side as they adjusted to the light.
“Did – did Alan go to Dino County yet?”
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Kingsley
I pulled back the tap, refilling my bottle at the water station.
The gym reeked of the sweat and testosterone of more than 2 dozen men from the team. It was a stench strong enough to burn the eyes of an outsider. Just about every single equipment was taken, other than the weight bench I'd called dibs on. The dudes kicked it, talking shit between themselves as they worked out. They had to strain their voices over Val's shitty EDM music blasting on the speakers.
I took a swig from my bottle and was about to turn around when I caught a snippet of Odell's conversation with Kaiser, one of the Centers.
“Money's tighter than ever,” Odell lamented between chest crunches on the Butterfly. “It's not just Faith and Nellie I gotta worry about – Nellie's mom's medication, TJ's college tuition. It adds up. I couldn't bring myself to tell Nellie we barely afforded our power bill last month.”
“I'm sorry, dude. Wish I could help out, but –”
“Naw, brother. It's all good. Our 15th anniversary's coming up in 2 weeks, and I wanted to go all out for her, you know? I'm lucky if I can even afford dinner, let alone a gift –”
I'd heard enough. Wiping off my sweaty forehead with the towel around my neck, I headed back to my bench. It was fucked up I was even eavesdropping on the man in the first place.
After a couple of quick warm-ups, I lay down on the bench and positioned my fingers around the cool bar. When I got a firm grip, I started on my first set. I hefted the weights straight up, feeling the invigorating fire searing through my chest and arms. As I continued my set, I did everything I could to ignore Val's cocky commentary 3 machines down, but it was a fucking mission to tune that shit out.
“I'm telling ya, those Cowboys cheerleaders had a thing for me,” Val boasted on the treadmill. “Especially that redhead with the lip ring. Mmm, she was real tasty, too.”
“Whatever you say, dude,” Garrett replied on the treadmill next to him. “Ain't you dating Carrie, though? How's that going?”
“Pretty good, pretty good.”
My lips pulled back in a smug smirk. This fool had no clue his girl just creamed all over my cock 2 days ago. But the more I thought about it, I retracted that smirk. Carrie hadn't spoken to me since Jackson woke up. More importantly, Carrie should have been my girl.
“I gotta say, you struck gold with that one. Don't know what she sees in you, but she's fucking hot.”
“You don't even know,” said Val loudly, glancing in my direction. “She's got these sweet, juicy tits. And those perky nipples...goddamn. She's a real slut in the sheets. Bitch goes crazy when I lift up her legs and pound that pussy from behind –”
My vision was swallowed by red. I hauled the weights back onto the rack, launched myself to my feet, and went straight for the treadmills. There was a satisfying glint of fear in Val's eyes before I snatched him up by the collar and threw him to the ground.
I sank my whole weight on his legs, immobilizing the squirmy fuck. The whole team jumped off their equipment, huddling around us. Some cheered while others yelled at us to stop. The chaos rang in my ears. But before I could land my first punch, Odell and Louie broke through the crowd and wrested us off each other.
“What the Uncle Sam is going on in here?”
Coach barged into the gym, his voice booming over us. The commotion quickly died down. I rolled my head and shoulders in backward motions, shaking it off. The team banded together in silence, all eyes avoiding the Coach from the waist up.
“You clowns better get your –”
“Holy shit, guys! Guys, you're not gonna believe this!”
All eyes shifted to the door. Wyatt sprinted into the room, oblivious to the bulging vein on Coach's forehead. He held out his phone like the Olympic torch, looking like he was about to implode from his news.
“Gunther just filed for divorce!”
“What're you –”
“It's all over the news! Gunther was tipped off by an unsigned letter – it had pictures of Ivanka with all the dudes she's been sleeping with on the side. Text messages, phone records, everything. Gunther waited for her at the Brunswick Lodge last night, slapped her with divorce papers when she came into the room. There was a camera crew and everything waiting for them, too. Heard it was fucking brutal!”
As the team went nuts about what happened, I casually made my way out of the gym. And what did you know? That smug smirk was back where it belonged.
It's like I always said – nobody was going to try to fuck The King over and get away with it.
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Carrie
I scooped a handful of popcorn into my mouth, crunching noisily as I nestled my head aga
inst Val's chest. He scooched to the side, making more room for me on the alligator-skin loveseat. But as he propped his fingers on my shoulders, kneading my tight muscles, I only got tenser. The stormy guilt brewing inside of me was getting harder to dismiss.
It had been about a full week since Jackson had miraculously woken up from his coma. Likewise, it had been about a full week since my “incident” with Kingsley at the emergency exit. I knew full well there was no excuse for what I'd done. Though it hadn't been officially discussed, Val and I were clearly an item. But in the spur of the moment, I'd completely forgotten Val had even existed. His face only cropped up in my mind when I'd flushed my sweet release all over Kingsley's cock.
On the other hand, this was my first night away from Jackson. Sloane had volunteered to stay over with Jamie and Jackson, and had convinced me to come out and see Val to unwind a bit. What I'd done was unacceptable, but it was just that – done. I should just box it up and tuck it away in the back of my mind for now and just go with the flow. And right as that thought slipped in and out of my mind, I felt an extra pang of guilt at my willing acceptance of the double standard.
I pulled away from Val, sitting up edgily on my side of the loveseat.
“So, how you liking the movie? Good stuff, yeah?”
Looking back at the TV, I was tempted to tell Val exactly what I thought. No, it wasn't “good stuff.” The cheesy action flick had no substance and was just a 2-hour long montage of unnecessary explosions and fake boobs. I winced, struggling to find one positive thing to say about the movie. As I watched the lead actor decimate an entire office of suits with his shirt off for god-knows-what reason, I reached over to the bowl of popcorn for another handful.
“Wouldn't kick that guy out of bed, I guess.”
Val jolted out of his seat, switching off the TV with a huff. I slowed down my chewing, the popcorn feeling extra dry as I forced it down my throat. He stared me down, his Adam's apple bobbing meancingly.
“What did you say?” His lips were screwed so tightly together they barely opened when he spoke.
“Why'd you do that?” I leaned away from him, pinching the scaly edge of the loveseat.
“I asked you a question.”
“Seriously?” I blinked at him, my jaw hanging in incredulity. “Are you really getting jealous over some guy on TV? I was kidding –”
“So was I.”
“What?”
Val laughed, his tight lips breaking out in a grin.
“Huh. Don't quit your day job, 'cause comedy's not your thing.” I crossed my arms over my chest, but I cracked a small smile myself.
“Alright, alright. I hear you. Bad joke.”
Val dropped to his knees in front of me. He eased back the hem of my pleated skirt, planting soft kisses on my knees and along the insides of my thighs. The leather pillow behind me squeaked as I squirmed in my seat, slightly sliding off the edge.
“Would you let me make it up to you?”
I pulled my skirt up around my hips and wiggled out of my panties in response. Val continued his trail of kisses up my thighs, stopping to circle his tongue over the eager pearl of my clit. I could feel the weight of his gaze from between my legs, examining every aspect of the pleasure he was giving me.
The tip of his nose brushed against my trimmed bush, tickling me as his warm, wet mouth polished my quavering cunt with sloppy, violent licks. I clamped my legs around his ears, arching my back off the loveseat. As he continued to ravage my mound, he slipped his hands under my ass cheeks, his jagged nails piercing into the plump meat. I sucked in my teeth, grinding my hips against his mouth in circular motions to help myself along a little.
Val sat up with a chin gleaming with my juices. He swiftly replaced his mouth with 2 of his fingers and his thumb over my clit. My throaty moans rumbled out of my mouth, each panting breath louder than the last.
“God, Val, that's so good – just – just keep doing that –”
“Yeah? You like that, baby?”
Val snickered softly, his pinkie teasing my asshole. I gasped, my eyes rounding as he snuck it into the hole. Feeling both my holes stimulated at the same time, I curled my toes and cried out in agonizing pleasure. I completely lost my footing and all control of my body, allowing my weak legs to slide down to the floor.
“Say my name, Carrie. I want you to tell me how good I'm making you feel... I want you to cry out my name when you explode all over these fingers and stain these hardwood floors...”
“Val – you're – you're unbelievable – I can't – I can't –”
“Yeah?” Val grinned, sinking his pinkie deeper into my asshole as he continued to finger-fuck my abused, slowly numbing cunt. “You can't what? Who's about to make you cum, you little slut? Tell me how good it feels to have my knuckles up in your tight little cunt and asshole...”
“You – you – you're so fucking good at this, Val – Val, I can't – I'm gonna –”
Before I could finish that thought, a surge of juices oozed down my shaking thighs. Val held up my knees to keep me from sliding off the loveseat completely. He licked up the sticky stream running down my thighs, looking extremely pleased with himself.
“Such a good, good girl...”
Chapter Forty: Carrie
“Jackson wanted to stay up a little longer to finish up one of the puzzles from Mr. Kelly, but I managed to coax him into bed, and he's now out like a light.”
“Thank you so much, Nurse Abby. You're a godsend.” I jogged up the steps of the high-rise apartment and rang the doorbell for the 19th floor. “Thank you so much for agreeing to stay the night. Of course, I'll be paying you double every hour past your shift. I'll be home by 8 tomorrow morning.”
“You're most welcome, Carrie. I really don't mind – Jackson's a real treat and I could use the extra cash myself.”
When Val buzzed me in, I entered the building and headed for the elevators.
“Thanks so much. I'll talk to you later.”
“Alright, you have a good night.”
I slipped into the elevator and selected the 19th floor. As soon as I hung up, I slouched against the floor-length mirror behind me. After 3 long days of interviewing one private nurse after another, I'd finally settled on the best candidate possible. Nurse Abby was 32 and a mother of 3, and she was vivacious, sharp, and had a flexible schedule. Having her around the last couple of days was well worth the extra deadlines I'd been volunteering for at work, no matter how dangerous the vapid work was for my brain cells.
Of course, I could keep telling myself that I'd only hired a private nurse so that Jackson would receive optimum care. Truth was, what Kingsley claimed he'd “seen” in Jackson's hospital room really spooked me. I couldn't bring myself to even begin entertaining the fact that my baby sister was capable of Kingsley's accusations. Yet at the same time, as Jackson's aunt, I wasn't about to take any chances. If there was even the faintest sliver of a chance that this was true, I wasn't going to leave Jamie alone with Jackson. Not trusting my sister with her own son might have been fucked up of me, but at least I was covering all the bases.
For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what Kingsley's end game was. Why come to me with all these stories now? What could he possibly be gaining from any of this? At first, this seemed like nothing but a long-winded shot at getting me back, but the more I thought about it, I wasn't so sure. After all, I was the instigator with our quickie at Bellevue. But as a journalist, I couldn't readily believe him without at least checking multiple sources, all of which had come up with nothing to indicate Xiao-Xin's alleged abuse, or that Jamie had ever purchased arsenic anywhere.
What's crazy was that now that Ivanka, who had to fly home when her divorce left her with close to nothing, was out of the picture, I'd catch myself daydreaming about Kingsley and his stupid, infuriating, irresistibly perfect face.
I stepped out of the elevator and walked up to Val's front door. Before I could knock, Val opened the door for me. He was only wearing a pair of ti
ght black pants, looking like he'd just come out of the shower. His wet hair was combed back and his chiseled torso was left with a shiny sheen from the shower steam.
“Hey, Carrie.” He leaned in to kiss me on the cheek before letting me inside.
“Mm. Food smells great.” I took a big whiff of the rich aroma of mixed spices floating in the air.
“You're in for a treat.” Val winked as he put my wrap coat and purse away for me. “Whipped us up some goulash.”
“I didn't know you could cook. This looks amazing.”
I salivated at the gorgeous feast of beef goulash, black rice, and cucumber salad on the table. A pair of wine glasses and a bottle of red wine were set up next to 2 sets of expensive china. As I settled into my chair, I glanced at the kitchen.
I couldn't help but notice how spotless the place looked. There wasn't even a drop of water in the sink. Brushing it off, I set my phone down on the table.
“What's with the phone?” Val's forehead lined with his disapproval. “I thought it was just us tonight.”
“It is, but I'm expecting an important call from work.” I raised an eyebrow, helping myself to a glass of wine. “That's not a problem, is it?”
“No.” Val cleared his throat, turning away from me. “I'll be right back. Just gonna dry off and put on a shirt.”
“Okay. Take your time.”
When Val disappeared into his bedroom, I reached into the bowl of trail mix on the kitchen counter for an early appetizer. The delectable smell of the feast in front of me reminded me that I hadn't eaten anything since that banana muffin and blueberry yogurt I had this morning. Getting up for seconds, my phone jerked twice with a new alert.
I sat back down, narrowing my eyes at the message on my phone.
“Is this Carrie Toussaint?”
“Yes,” I punched into my keyboard. “Who is this?”
Tackled by the King: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 20