Daddy's Home (Firebacks Book 1)
Page 4
“Shut the fuck up!” Lucky said because he had nothing to really say in his defense. Polo was right; he was the one who’d slept with Sonia.
It wasn’t something he’d planned. In fact, he barely remembered the incident. The only clear memory he had was of being in a strip club and agreeing with Polo that the stripper on stage was hot, then being walked to his hotel room by Polo. His next memory was of waking up with the same hot stripper sprawled over him in all her naked glory and going into a panic at the thought of Zain finding out.
“So you fucked another bitch. Big deal!” Polo added, ignoring him. “I don’t even know why you let Zain run you like that. It wouldn’t be me.”
“Shut up,” Lucky repeated, getting angrier the more Polo spoke.
“I’m just saying.”
“You need to shut your mouth before I shut it for you,” Lucky said.
Polo sat the girl on the seat beside him and stood up to his full height as he popped the collar of his shirt. “Shut it then.”
Lucky stood in preparation to do just that.
“Woah, woah, wow!” Victor stood too, sliding between them. “You’re not about to fight in here.”
Neither Lucky nor Polo said anything as they stared each other down. Lucky willed him to throw the first punch. It’d give him a reason to beat his ass. Polo had a couple of pounds on him for sure, but he was taller and faster. He could take him.
“Sit down.” Victor shoved at both of them. Raising both hands as if in surrender, Polo sat back down. His girl plopped right back down on his lap. Victor turned to Lucky who was still standing, itching to plant his fist into Polo’s smug face and insisted, “Both of you.”
Lucky sat down. While Polo went right back to making out with the girl in his lap, Victor sent his girls away. Consolingly he said, “She just needs a minute. I’m sure she’ll come around.”
“You don’t know Zain,” Lucky guffawed. He picked up a bottle of water from the coffee table and sipped. He hadn’t touched anything hard since the incident with Sonia.
“Zain loves you,” Victor said. “She’s not just gonna leave you because of one mistake.”
“You loved Sherry,” Lucky reminded him, “and you packed her shit up because she fucked another guy one time.”
“That’s different, women are different,” Victor said. “You’re still in the house aren’t you?”
“Barely,” Lucky muttered. Zain had been making his life a living hell ever since Sonia had appeared five days ago. When the children were awake, she acted cordially, answered when spoken to and smiled at all the right cues. Once the kids were out of the way, their house turned into a battleground.
The first few days, she’d tried throwing things at him but there was only so much you could hurl around before your throwing arm got stiff. The previous day she’d tried packing up all his stuff, but each shirt she’d stuffed into his suitcase, he’d put right back up in the closet. Finally she’d thrown one of his shoes at him and left him with a nasty bruise. He dreaded to think what she had planned for tonight.
“How do you even know this kid is yours?” Victor asked, tipping the contents of his glass into his mouth before he placed it back on the glass table
“I don’t.” Lucky shrugged. “But you know DNA tests…until she pops the baby, I can’t do much.”
“You need to handle this girl before she starts doing the talk-show rounds,” Victor said.
“I don’t even know where she is,” Lucky said. “I gave her my phone and some money before I sent her off Saturday but the line’s not working anymore.”
“Let me find her for you.” Polo interrupted their conversation. Lucky hadn’t even realized that he was listening in.
“Why would you do that?” Lucky asked, his eyebrow arched skeptically as he turned to face him.
“My way of making it up to you.” Polo shrugged. “I’ll use my contacts with the club and find out where this…Suzan?”
“Sonia.”
“Where this Sophie is,” Polo said, “then tell you.”
A couple of hours later, Lucky left Nox and headed home. With the exception of the security lights beaming against the front door, it seemed that everyone was sleeping. He sat in his truck for a few minutes, fortifying himself to deal with Zain again. When he was ready, he exited the car and walked to the front door.
He pressed his key into the lock and tried to turn it but his key wouldn’t turn. He rattled the doorknob, thinking that the door was open. Nothing! Zain had changed the locks on him. Fortunately Lucky had been expecting her to try that any day now. Picking the lock was only a matter of walking back to the car and removing the tools from the glove compartment.
The front door opened to a dark foyer. The moment he flicked on the lights, two jungle green suitcases, sitting pretty by the staircase, confronted him. He didn’t need to unzip them to know that his clothes were inside. She was back to trying to forcibly evict him.
Sighing heavily, he lifted both suitcases and trudged up the unlit stairs. He placed the cases outside his and Zain’s room before heading for Maari’s room. Maari lay spread-eagle on his back in his car-bed, his covers kicked to the floor. After covering him up again, Lucky kissed his forehead and headed for the twin’s room. Both girls were deep asleep and only Lily stirred when he kissed her forehead.
“Daddy,” she whimpered, crawling into his lap.
“Sshh,” he soothed, “go to sleep.”
Next to Zain, their kids were the most important people in his life. They’d popped in three years ago when Social Services had come looking for a relative to take them in. He didn’t even know that his sister Jamilah had had kids, let alone that she’d gotten so deep into drugs that she’d overdosed. If it weren’t for Zain taking control, he probably would’ve been lost. They were part of the reason he couldn’t let Zain go.
He held Lily in his lap for a couple of minutes until she finally fell asleep again before tucking her back in bed. As expected, the door to the master bedroom was locked. He entered the room using a master key,.
Even in the darkness, he could see Zain’s figure bundled beneath the covers. Careful not to wake her, he sat the suitcases by the closet, stripped down to his boxers and slipped in bed beside her. He scooted closer to her.
“Don’t touch me,” she growled.
CHAPTER 5
“I should have married Steven Weiss,” said Zain.
“Little Stevie from next door?” Rosemary’s ringing laughter was clear even through the line. “With the eczema?”
“Uh huh.” Zain nodded. “I bet he doesn’t have any babies with any hookers.”
“You’re not his type. His mother told me he just moved in with his…you know…man-friend.”
“Then I’ll find another white boy.” Zain glared at Lucky.
He was seated in the armchair opposite her, pretending to concentrate on the soap opera she was watching when they both knew damn well he couldn’t stand those sappy shows. He probably thought that their being in the same room would somehow inspire her to talk to him. Not. He was on silent treatment until he decided to leave.
“With your temper?” Rosemary asked. “I doubt any of them will take you.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be supporting me?”
“I’m sorry baby…” Rosemary chuckled. “…Bad Lucky. Bad, bad Lucky.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you killed him yet?”
“I’m still trying.” Many women would’ve left by now, but Zain would be damned if he ran her out of her house. His money may have built it, but her sweat had made it a home. She shot a look at Lucky as she repeated, “I’m still trying.”
Lucky sat back in his seat, stretched his legs out and arched an eyebrow as if to say ‘do your worst’. Why couldn’t he just leave? He was behaving as if his betraying her was just a bump they’d slide over, a cold she could take pills for, a nightmare she could sleep away. It wasn’t that easy. Zain couldn’t even explain the kind of hurt
she felt. Seeing that woman and witnessing the revealing look on his face had ripped away a piece of her. Lucky was that piece.
“Baby, it’s been more than three weeks,” Rosemary stated matter-of-factly. “You need to do some woo-sahs and listen to that man.”
“He has nothing to say that I want to hear.”
“And what do your kids have to say about that?”
“They don’t know what’s going on.”
Rosemary chuckled. “Honey, have you seen yourself when you’re in a snit? Everybody knows what’s going on.”
“You don’t know how I’m feeling,” Zain said, tears collecting at the back of her throat. “Mommy, she’s pregnant.”
The fact that the press continued to call the house didn’t hurt as much as knowing there was some other woman carrying Lucky’s baby. Lucky straightened up in the armchair, stopping all pretenses of watching the show on TV. Instead, he looked at her with worry in his eyes. It only irritated her more. Zain powered off the TV, threw the remote on the couch and stood. On her way out, she flicked off the lights and plunged Lucky and the room into darkness.
Still on the other end of the line, Rosemary said, “Baby, I know what you’re going through.”
Zain couldn’t possibly see how her mother understood what she was going through. Her parents had the world’s happiest marriage as far as she was concerned. Unlike Zain and Lucky, having no biological children was their choice, not something the fates had decreed.
“Zain, do you love him?”
“I hate him,” Zain said as she climbed the stairs with Lucky on her heels like a shadow. Did the man not get a hint? She reiterated, “I hate him.”
“You know you love him. You’ve loved that man since the first time you snuck him into my house,” Rosemary insisted. “Honey, talk to him. At least for the kids.”
“No!” Zain stubbornly said as she stomped into their bedroom. She almost slammed the door in Lucky’s face but his hand shot out before it could connect. Those damn reflexes!
“Young lady, I’m your mother and I get to tell you what to do,” Rosemary said. Zain could hear the smile in her voice. “Talk to him before you decide what you’re going to do next. You know I’m not rich enough to come and bail you out of jail if you hurt him.”
When the phone call was over, Zain stripped out of the sundress she wore. Clad in only her underwear, she walked into the bathroom to take a shower. When she returned to the bedroom, she found Lucky stretched out on the bed, watching her.
“So you’re still not talking to me?” he asked.
Zain ignored him as she poured a dollop of lotion into her palm. Humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like a dirge beneath her breath, she massaged the white cream into her skin.
“Baby I know I hurt you, but we need to talk it out.” His voice followed her as she walked to her side of the closet. “It’s been more than a week.”
Blue nightie. Purple nightie. Red nightie. I feel red…red it is.
Seeing that his words fell on deaf ears, Lucky stopped talking and just watched as she slipped the red teddy over her head. Clad in her ruby armor, Zain strutted to her side of the bed. Normally as part of her ‘Kick Lucky Out’ routine she’d try to roll him off the bed, but tonight she was tired of fighting, tired of him, and tired of them. Foregoing the ritual, she slipped into bed, switched the lights off on him and soon drifted into sleep.
Zain woke hours later to find his side of the bed empty. The bedside clock winked three a.m. in neon numbers. Her first thought was that he’d finally left. The disappointment that accompanied the thought surprised her. It, however, quickly dissipated as she felt his weight shift at the foot of the bed.
In the darkness she could see his form; shoulders hunched and head bowed as he sat with his back to her. Sitting up, Zain flicked on the bedside lamp. He turned bloodshot eyes towards her. There was no accompanying smell of liquor so his reddened eyes only mean one thing.
“Will you just stop?” Zain’s words sliced into the deafening silence. “Stop crying and trying to make me feel like I’m the bitch here.”
“Baby please-”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Halake,” She pushed the covers aside and set her feet on the floor. “I’m not doing this. This here is on you. You did this. You got us here.”
“One time and one time only,” He moved from the edge of the bed and knelt on the floor in front of her, his hands on her knees. “Please forgive me Zain. I love you so much.”
“And she’s a stripper too?” Zain couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice. This was the twenty-first century and her husband was out having unprotected sex with strippers. She tried pushing his hands off her knees but he wouldn’t let go. “No, Halake! No! You could’ve brought me a disease!”
“It was one time on-”
“I don’t care if it was only one time,” Zain started to yell, but her voice caught in her throat as the tears began. “I don’t love you enough for that.”
“I know I fucked up.” His voice was chocked up as if it was taking everything in him not to cry too. “But it was only one time and I got checked up afterwards-”
“Stop trying to excuse it,” she said. He’d been lucky that she’d come up clean too otherwise they wouldn’t even be talking right now. He caught her hand in his and started kissing her knuckles, his eyed locked on hers.
“Okay. No more excuses.” Lucky got off his knees and leant over Zain with his brawny arms bracketing her body and their faces so close together that their noses almost touch. He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, then her eyelids. “I am sorry.”
She tried to push him off her with a hand against his chest, but he refused to budge. Instead, he kissed down the tracks of her tears as if trying to erase everything that had happened. She whimpered, “Halake, you’re supposed to protect me. You promised to protect me from everything!”
“I know,” he whispered against her neck, pushing her ponytail out of the way so he could suck on the sensitive skin there. His hands were on her ass, lifting her so he could pull her teddy up and over her head.
“This is not how you do it,” she said as he gently pushed her to lie on the bed, her legs still hanging over its side.
“I know.” His lips were on her breast, licking, nipping, and sucking on her nipple as his free hand palmed its twin. Every lash of his hand and tongue against her sensitive tips were designed to make her forget his sins.
This was wrong. She should fight him harder!
“Lucky please go,” she begged, pushing his head so he would stop placing tempting kisses on her taut tummy. “I’m so tired of fighting you. Please go.”
“No.” He hooked her legs over his shoulders. Using his fingers, he revealed her hidden hood to his gaze and touch. She moaned as he touched her clit, strummed it like an expert who knew exactly how to bow his instrument to its musician’s will. She whimpered as his mouth followed his fingers, gently sucking, releasing, and then sucking again.
“Please go!” she cried as his tongue flicked then thrust in to shatter her.
“No.” Lucky rose, lowering her legs from his shoulders until he leant over her on the bed, tear tracks down his cheeks. “No.”
He tried to kiss her but Zain turned her head to avoid his lips. “Please.”
“No.” His thighs parted hers. She didn’t realize that he was out of his boxers until his tip danced at her moist entrance. She wanted to be strong enough to say ‘no’ but she was weak. She closed her eyes and he whispered, “Look at me.”
He wouldn’t push in until she finally did. As their eyes met, he allowed their bodies to join. The intensity in which he looked at her was disconcerting but she kept her eyes locked with his as he sank deeper.
“I’m sorry baby,” Lucky groaned, breathless as he began to stroke in and out of her in long lengths. He took a piece of her every time he withdrew and forced another piece of himself to take its place when he pushed back in. “I’m sorry I did this to you.”
The rolling pleasure caught her unaware and her anger finally ebbed.
When they were once again beneath the covers, he cradled her to him. They lay silently in the dark, listening to the other’s bated breaths. His chest vibrated against her palm as he spoke, “Zain, I love you.”
Half asleep, she whispered, “Make her go away.”
* * *
High up on the fifteenth floor of the Neon City Hotel, the elevator pinged. Its steel doors chimed open and Lucky stepped out. Under his black sports coat and black cardigan, he still wore the red branded tee and black slacks that all players were expected to wear during press briefings. He should’ve gone home to change but when Polo had given him Sonia’s address after the briefing all he could think of was sorting this issue out. Zain was finally talking to him again, but he knew they weren’t there yet. Solving the Sonia problem would go along way in helping them out.
Now his question was; how in all hell could a stripper afford to stay in a place like this? All one had to look at was the glitzy chandeliers that hung from the high ceilings and soft beige carpeting that ran the floor to know that Neon City was one of the most expensive places to stay in Long Island.
His shoes barely made any sound as he made his way down the hallway. A gold plaque marked door 723. He rapped on the door three times before he heard a shrieked, “Door’s open.”
Sonia was lying in the oval king-sized bed in a thin, red negligee watching TV. Her lips curled into a sultry smile when she saw him. “About time! I thought your crazy wife had killed you.”