Offensive Rebound

by Mj Fields

  “Hey, Mom, how is she today?”

  The care in his voice is so sweet. I wonder if my dad sounded like that when he called Mom.

  Then I hear him again. Now he seems to be whispering.

  “Hey, baby girl. You wanna talk to me today?”

  I lean forward, wanting to hear more.

  “Callie, I miss you and will see you soon.”

  After a few seconds, his voice is full and no longer a whisper.

  “Is this hard for her?” He pauses. “I know I ask every day, Mom. I’m gonna keep asking every day because maybe someday it will be different, and maybe that means she’s getting better...She eating good?” Another long pause. “She’s my responsibility...Thanks, Mom.”

  Now his tone changes. “No, Mom, my boss isn’t pissed at me. She’s a good girl. Shit got out of hand. We’ll deal...Yes, I like her. She’s good people...Oh, come on, Mom. It’s not like we planned it...I know. Never have been able to drink a lot. That’s not a bad thing, and it’s not like I’m out here to build up a tolerance.” He laughs. “Yeah, I’ll do my best… Knee’s fine, Mom...Love you, too.”

  I roll over, grab my phone off the charger, and hit call on Christa’s number. She doesn’t answer.

  “Ugh.” I roll onto my back, finding Trae standing beside the bed, looking down at me with a towel wrapped around his hips.

  “You gonna get dressed, or should we say to hell with Elvis and spend the rest of the time getting each other off and letting those fancy lawyers you pay fix it all?”

  I can’t help smiling at him.

  “Good answer.” He drops the towel and climbs into bed and over me.

  ***

  “I’M SO WEAK,” I WHINE, pushing myself up off the bed. “And sore. I’m so sore.”

  “We need food.” He smacks my ass. “It’s six at night and the only thing I’ve eaten today is you and a couple of protein bars.”

  When I look back at him, shocked at his sexual...bluntness, he winks.

  Shrugging, he says, “Not complaining at all. But we need to go eat.”

  I turn back around and continue trying to get out of bed.

  “Shower?”

  I look back at him. “Not with you.”

  “You afraid I’ll keep you in there ‘til you look like a prune?” He starts to stand, and I start to run toward the bathroom, him laughing behind me. “I’ll call Parker; see if they want to meet us.”

  I turn around and look down.

  “No?” he asks. “You don’t want them to go?”

  I shake my head. “I’m being ridiculous, but I’m kind of mad at her.”

  “Why?” he asks, scrolling through his phone.

  “She shouldn’t have pushed us.” Though, I must admit, she was drunk, too.

  He laughs.

  I groan, covering my face before dragging my hands through my hair. “I know. I said it was stupid.”

  “Love that about you.” He smirks as he looks at me from out of the corner of his eye. “You know when you’re being ridiculous.”

  ***

  WHILE I SHOWER, I THINK about what he said, that I know when I’m being ridiculous. It dawns on me that I always have known, and that I have never really been able to be without causing chaos in my home. I like being ridiculous just as much as I like being in charge at The Stable, and almost as much as I like Trae Rhodes.

  I get out and wrap myself in a towel. Then I grab another and start to dry my hair.

  Walking out of the bathroom, I see Trae is on my phone.

  “Who is it?” I ask.

  He pushes a button, probably mute. “Your lawyer has a table at the steakhouse we were at last night. Says he needs to see us both.”

  “Larry is here?”

  He nods.

  “Why?”

  He rolls his eyes in exaggeration.

  I grab a tee-shirt dress out of my bag. “Tell him we’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  He does, and then walks up behind me and grabs my ass hard.

  “Haven’t you done enough damage to my body?” I swat his hands away.

  “We at The Stable?”

  “No,” I answer, looking through my bag. “Where the hell are all my bras?”

  He squeezes my ass again. “Court, am I playing ball?”

  “Ouch, dammit.” I rub my butt.

  “I’m not your secretary. I’m your...” He stops mid-sentence.

  “I know. We need to figure out what you are.”

  “I’m the man who takes care of you in the bedroom and makes sure no one fucks with you elsewhere.” He nods as if he’s good with that label.

  “I don’t understand why—”

  “Don’t treat me like I’m the fucking help around people.”

  Shocked, I start to ask, “When did I—”

  “You were being bossy while Larry was on the phone. Makes me look like I’m a fucking chump. Or worse, like I married you to get ahead.”

  “I wasn’t being bossy,” I grumble, feeling bad that he feels that way.

  “Respect, Court. We respect each other.”

  I nod.

  “We’ve got each other’s backs. You feel me?”

  “Fine, but...” I groan and look around. “Could the bellboy have stolen my bras?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The Payoff

  TRAE

  “OH, SHIT?” I MUMBLE AS we walk into the restaurant.

  “What?” she asks, looking around.

  “Your folks are still here.”

  She stops dead in her tracks.

  “They don’t like me much, Court,” I state, taking her hand, “but you’ve gotta face them, okay?”

  “Why?” she asks, unmoving.

  “To show them how fierce you are. Aside from, well, the wedding incident, you’ve kicked ass on your own. Let’s go.” I squeeze her hand and walk through the crowd to the table.

  Christa looks like hell, Parker looks on edge, and yeah, that’s what I’m focusing on. I’m no bitch, but Courtney’s mom scares the shit out of me, and I don’t scare easy.

  I pull out a chair for Courtney, and she looks up at me as she sits down, her eyes wide and worried. I give her a quick peck on the head, which gains me a nasty hiss from the monster-in-law.

  When I sit down, Courtney is eyeing the bread basket, so I reach over and grab it, setting it in front of her with a smile. “Eat something, Mrs. Rhodes.”

  Just can’t help myself sometimes.

  Her eyes bug out of her head, and her mother hisses again.

  I look down, afraid to make eye contact with Medusa. I like being hard, but turning into complete stone isn’t in the cards for me.

  “Courtney, your mother informed me of the marriage and asked that I come here to help take care of the situation.” When she looks to her right at him, he nods, almost like he’s trying to put her at ease. He then proceeds to open a folder and sets it in front of her. “A couple quick signatures, and we can get this taken care of.”

  I knew I recognized him, same man who I signed my contract with.

  She nods again, and all of a sudden, I feel something, something I shouldn’t feel, but fuck if I can control it.

  It’s a tightening in my chest, a need to keep her, if only for a little while. I’m not ready for this to end.

  “We decided to take some time in making a decision on what to do about our marriage,” I interrupt, causing Courtney to quickly look over at me.

  I give her a quick smile, one that’s for her, and not the entire table.

  Monster-in-law throws her napkin on the table. “I knew it. He knows. He knows about the money. Ron, it’s all a big ploy. He and Brock, they’re in this together.”

  “What are you talking about?” Courtney asks.

  Her mother rolls her eyes. “Your father thought he was born in Shakespearean times, like he’d have to pay a man to marry you. Brock must have known about the money, and so does he.” She points an accusing finger at me.

  “First
of all, Ellen, I can assure you marrying your daughter had nothing to do with money,” I tell her.

  “Right, what was it you said? Whenever she’s around you, you’re aware of every breath she—”

  “That’s not important,” I cut her off, feeling my skin heat up at the weight of Courtney’s eyes on me. “We were celebrating a win, and we got a little carried away. Whatever Brock knows, I can assure you I have no knowledge of it.”

  “And we’re supposed to believe you because...?” Ellen asks.

  “Because I’m not bullshitting you,” I grit out, trying to hold in my temper.” Then I look at Ron, knowing he’s her fucking husband and getting him to understand will pave a path to her understanding. He raises a speculative brow at me before I say, “Ron, I care about Courtney, and I can promise you, I’m not using her for a damn thing. I’ll go one step further and tell you that, at first, I wanted to nail her just to piss Brock—”

  “Do you hear him, Courtney? Do you hear how he’s talking about you?”

  “He’s telling the truth”—she shrugs—“which is more than either of you two have done.” She pushes back her chair, clearly getting upset. “Why didn’t I know about this...this...dowry?”

  “Courtney, your mother and Ron just found out about it, too,” Larry interjects. “Your father didn’t want anyone to know until the day came. There are stipulations. You get five million at the start of your marriage. The rest of the money stays in a trust until you’ve been married for a year, and then your husband gets it. If your marriage doesn’t last, it stays in the account until you find someone you remain married to for three hundred and sixty-five days.”

  “Such rubbish. One year, and the man walks away if he chooses with thirty million dollars?” Ellen grumbles as she picks at a piece of bread.

  Courtney gasps, and I make it a point not to act affected, knowing they will judge me for it.

  “No, that’s not how it works,” Larry tells her, shaking his head. “It’s five million a year. If the marriage dissolves after that, the children born of the marriage get the money in a trust fund, which will pay for very specific needs. Charlie trusted Courtney’s judgement, and had you not called and asked me to come, her and I would have had this discussion in Seattle.”

  Larry turns toward Courtney. “It’s to protect you, not to pay someone to marry you. He wanted you to be happy and to think long and hard about marriage, not make you shy away from living a life where love is based on a false sense of security money can bring. Your father was a complicated man, but whatever he did was done with your best interest at heart.”

  “Court?” I whisper. “Sign the—”

  She stops me with a glare, and fuck, I like it.

  “Money can buy out a contract,” Parker whispers in my ear.

  Courtney looks around me and at him, which pisses me off a bit.

  “Parker,” I hiss.

  “You haven’t told her?”

  Courtney stands up and takes my hand. “Please come with me.” She looks at Christa and Parker. “You, too.”

  She thinks I’m hiding something, which wasn’t intentional. I was pretty fucked up last night when I learned the news Parker was implying to, and since then, I’ve been pretty damn busy.

  “Courtney, I am your mother,” Ellen says as Parker and Christa jump up to follow us out.

  We walk out of the bar, and Courtney spins around and focuses on me, hand on hips. “What are you hiding and why? You told me I could trust you, and I did. And now...Now I know you’re hiding something from me.”

  “Must be in the air.” Courtney glares at Christa, who looks down.

  “Didn’t wanna ruin your night,” I give her. “The fight already put a damper on plans. I wasn’t going to chance—”

  “Spill it,” Christa says, chewing on her nails.

  Sighing, I tell her, “Coach D, you saw him at the Blackjack table. He was drunk and mumbling about financial troubles. Serious financial troubles.”

  “We aren’t that bad off. I just wanna win, you know, and make...” She pauses and looks down.

  “Your old man proud?”

  She nods.

  “I’m sure you are. So maybe it’s his personal debt. If so, we stay hitched and buy that bastard out of his contract. He may take the five mill and jet without question.”

  “So just stay ‘hitched’”—she air quotes—“like it’s no big deal?”

  I smirk. “You already know it’s a big deal.”

  “Gross,” Christa says, walking away.

  I look at Parker. “What’s her deal?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Don’t ask. Sure as fuck wish I hadn’t.”

  I shake my head at him. “Go make sure she’s okay.”

  When he’s gone, I look at Courtney, finding her staring at me like she’s trying to find the answer to some secret.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night. My bad.”

  “What did you say to my mom?”

  Fuck, I groan in my head. Definitely not going to tell her what I told her mom this morning when I was kicking them all out. It’s fucking embarrassing.

  “Nothing that wasn’t true,” I give her. “Let’s go back before I eat the bar. I’m starving.”

  When we make our way back in, Ellen has switched seats with me, which annoys Courtney. For some reason, I like that she’s annoyed.

  I sit next to Ron, which I don’t like, but I understand that I am due an inquisition. He has been Courtney’s father for all practical reasons, and I am her husband because of impractical ones.

  “The money must make you happy,” he says in a low tone so only I can hear him.

  “I don’t want the money,” I say honestly. “Might help Courtney out, but I couldn’t care less.”

  “And Courtney, how long will you care about her?”

  I look at him and think damn hard about what I’m about to say. I really haven’t had time to put things into perspective, and the Nike philosophy probably won’t bode well with him.

  “She’s kind of hard not to care about. Stubborn, sassy, strong. At least, that’s what she’s trying to put out there. She’s brave, and did I mention stubborn?”

  He nods, stopping himself from smiling.

  “Look, I screwed up last night—we both did—but we’ll both be fine.”

  “I don’t care about you both. I love that young woman as if she were my own. And that woman sitting next to her is my wife and my entire world. I don’t get in her way often. I let her do things her way and step in when needs be. I’m telling you, I will step in when Courtney needs me, too. You figure out a way to make sure she doesn’t get hurt, and my steps will be that much lighter.”

  I let him have his moment. I even let some of the shit he says set in. But I know we will both be fine.

  After dinner, I start to stand up when he stops me.

  “You’re a father.”

  I nod. “I am.”

  “What do you want for your daughter?”

  I bite back the need to defend myself. He doesn’t know shit about my daughter.

  “Think about what you just wanted to say and keep that in mind. My little girl is much less worldly than you are. Tread lightly.” He stands before I have a chance, walks around the table, and kisses Courtney on the head before pulling out his wife’s chair. “We have a flight to catch.”

  “I’m not ready to—”

  “Ellen, she’ll be fine. You raised a very smart young woman.”

  I watch as Larry and Courtney say their goodbyes.

  When they all leave, Courtney looks at me. “I’m tired. Wanna go to bed?”

  Fuck yes, I want to go to bed. However, I tell her, “Gonna hang out with Parker for a little bit. Maybe hit some slots.”

  Her face falls, but she nods then looks at Christa. “Wanna go?”

  She nods. “I’m exhausted.”

  ***

  I LOOK AT THE CLOCK, seeing it’s close to two in the morning. Parker and I played Blackjack for a
few hours. He didn’t say shit the entire time. Apparently, that’s contagious, because now I’m all up in my head.

  Am I being selfish for wanting to fuck her, knowing I’m leaving at the end of April? I shouldn’t fucking feel this way. She knows it, just like I do.

  Fuck this.

  I toss back a drink. And that’s how the fucking night goes on.

  When I get back to the room, she’s lying on the bed, watching TV with Christa.

  Christa starts to get up. “I’ll get going.”

  “You stay. I’ll chill with Parker tonight,” I say, grabbing my bag and trying to avoid eye contact, but I can’t help looking at her.

  She’s in one of my college tees that hangs well below her knees and a pair of white, knee-high ball socks with black stripes. Her hair is up in a bun, and she’s not wearing a stitch of makeup on her face. Fuck if she doesn’t look as hot as she did last night at the club.

  She cocks her head to the side. “Everything okay?”

  I nod. “It’s all good. See you in the morning.”

  I walk out and shut the door behind me, and it immediately opens. I look back as she slips out, holding it open so it doesn’t lock behind her.

  “Is Parker mad at Christa?”

  “If he was, he wouldn’t say shit.”

  She nods and smiles. “Right.”

  “See you—”

  “Wait.” She grabs my arm. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Nah, Court, just don’t know what’s the best thing to do with this.” I motion between us.

  “I was kind of liking this.” She motions between us, mimicking me.

  “Yeah, well, I was thinking...” I stop and look at her, thinking, I don’t wanna hurt you when I leave, and I am going to leave.

  When I don’t continue, she asks, “Are you drunk?”

  I nod. “Had a few.”

  “Are you, like, going to hook up with someone?” She looks away. “I mean, it’s really none of my business, and we really aren’t a thing, so I suppose we can both do whatever and whoever we want. I just would like to know, since...you know.”

  I can’t believe the shit she’s saying right now.

  “Really?” flies out of my mouth.