by HJ Bellus
“Hey, you ugly bastard,” he greets me as he whips open the door to his apartment.
“Move.” Mack pushes past me. “I need to see those babies.”
I follow Mack into the house. It’s a fucking wreck. Shit strewn everywhere. Takeout boxes stacked in the trash can, clothes everywhere. It seems babies Dexter and Felix really did storm into this world. Sunni and Jag named their twins after Boss and Cruz, using Boss’ real name and Cruz’s last name.
By the time I stride into the living room, Mack is peering into a double bassinet. I walk up next to her and take a peek myself. Perfection. Two identical baby boys burrow in light blue blankets. There’s no denying who the baby daddy is.
“Sunni just fell asleep.” Jag runs his hand through his hair. “It’s been a bit crazy around here.”
It’s now I notice the white shit all over his shirt and the bags under his eyes. Mack must too. What Mack does next shocks the shit out of me. I should know by now that’s just how my girl rolls, always extending a helping hand.
“Jag, go lie down with Sunni. We can hold down the fort. You need some sleep,” she offers as she begins collecting dirty blankets and clothes.
“Why don’t you go catch some sleep too, man? You look like shit.” I slap Jag on the back.
“Ain’t gonna turn down that offer, but just warning as cute as those little shits are, they’re life suckers,” he replies.
“We can manage. Just chilling all day before the fight tonight. Go sleep.”
Jag’s a nervous basket case as he shows us where everything is. I’m a bit creeped out by the fact Sunni’s breast milk is in their fridge but know momma’s milk is always the best. As soon as Jag closes the door to his bedroom, Mack and I begin cleaning the disaster area since the babies are out. A good forty-five minutes later and it looks like a new place. I left Mack up in the apartment when I hauled three trash bags to the dumpster out back. My phone rings as soon as I toss in the bags. My mom again. I don’t need any distraction before the fight. Every fighter has different routines on fight days. My go to is to chill and soak up good vibes. It pains me to know a call from my own mother would have adverse effects on me. I turn off my phone. A dick move, but I have to focus and don’t need any guilt trips looming over my head.
Tiny squawks greet me when I walk back into the apartment. Mack has both babies in her arms, doing her best to get a bottle in each mouth. Their cries increase the longer they’re forced to wait. I settle in next to Mack and reach for one of the babies. Dexter is printed on his pajamas.
“Hey, little guy, I’m Uncle Trick.” I run my finger down his soft cheek.
Mack passes me a bottle. Both babies latch on in unison before waking up their parents.
“They started squirming, so I used that bottle warmer thing Jag showed us. Thank God you came in when you did,” she whispers.
“Look at us.” I lean over and kiss her cheek.
“Pretty amazing, eh?” she responds, staring down at Felix.
Jag was right; these little guys are life suckers. The most adorable ones around at that. After they polished off their bottles, we burped and changed them, and then they fussed. We walked them around the living room until they passed out. Jag and Sunni never moved out of Jag’s small apartment. I’m impressed the fussy babies didn’t wake them.
We both slump down on the couch. I pull Mack into my lap while finding something to stream on Netflix.
“Can we finish watching The Ranch?” Mack whispers into my neck.
I grumble. Not my favorite, but for her, anything. Into the third episode, the door to Jag’s apartment flies open, startling me. Layla damn near topples over with several grocery bags in her arms. I fly off the couch to help her out.
After brushing her hair out of her face, she takes in the place. “I could kiss both of you right now right smack on the lips.”
I pucker, pretending to go in for a kiss. She swats me away.
“It was a joke. But holy shit, thank you for cleaning up this place. It was getting pretty damn bad.”
“No problem. Mack only gagged once while cleaning out the fridge.” I shrug.
Layla brushes past me after setting the grocery bags on the counter. The two women do what women do when babies are around. Coo and ahh over the cuteness overload, which leaves me to unpack the groceries. The phone in my pocket weighs me down as I put shit away. It’s the complete opposite thing I need on my mind right now.
I brush that thought away. We end up spending the rest of the day at Jag’s place. The worn-out parents waltz out hours later, looking like brand-new people. Sunni clutched her breasts wincing in pain. The timing was spot on. Layla and Mack helped get the boys settled with their mother.
I whipped up one of my mom’s casseroles, although it didn’t help to take my mind off of the storm brewing. It was my favorite meal growing up. Brightened any day when she’d make it. I’d eat so much of the shit I always ended up groaning in pain afterward. It’s comfort food at its best with tater tots, cheese, cream of mushroom, and hamburger. Layla whipped up a salad to go with it.
Sunni and Jag polish off a few plates of food while the women go batshit crazy over the boys. Leaning back on the counter eating bland chicken, I watch Mack with baby Felix. It does something to me. The caveman lingering inside wants nothing more than to take her in the bathroom and knock her ass up right now. Fuck the birth control pills she just got on.
“Lost in thought, sheep fucker?” Jag leans on the counter next to me.
“Just thinking of knocking up my woman,” I respond.
He snorts. “It’s pretty fucking awesome.”
“Yeah, in time for us.”
“What gives?” He narrows his attention in on me.
I turn to look at him. The man can read me like a book. “Not feeling settled is all. Gonna suck ass not having you at the fight tonight.”
“Not going to lie, it’s going to be hard as fuck on me. I can’t leave Sunni here with the boys all alone quite yet.”
“I get it. You need to be here. I’m off.”
“Something up with Mack?” He snags a bottle of water, draining it in one swallow.
“No, hell no. We are good. Shit has been amazing.” I stand up from the counter and rest both of my hands on the top of my head, knowing he won’t give up until I tell him everything. “Home shit. Mom keeps calling and wants to talk about my dad.”
Jag flinches. He knows all too well how our past can really screw with our heads. “The best advice I can give you is to take care of that shit. Seal it up before it takes you down. Because no doubt it will eat you alive.”
“That much I do know,” I growl.
“I’m here for you, man, any time of the day.” Jag slaps my back before going back to his wife’s side.
Now, I feel like a damn pussy. When your head isn’t on right when you enter the octagon, it’s a dangerous combination. I’ll call my mom after the fight tonight, or at least that’s what I tell myself. It soothes away a bit of the anxiety.
Entering the living area, I spot Mack disappearing down the hallway. Perfect. She’s just what I need to erase the chaos. I ignore Jag’s moans from the living room when he picks up on what I’m doing.
Mack jumps when I wrap my arms around her and pull her back into my chest.
“What are you doing?”
I growl into her neck while pushing us into the bathroom. I shut and lock the door. Not wasting any time, I tug down her shorts and lacy thong.
“Trick,” she hisses. “We can’t do this here.”
Our sexual appetite has been on fire since the night of her birthday. We can’t keep our hands off each other. It doesn’t matter that I had her twice this morning before heading out. I need her again.
“Yes, we can, rebel girl.” I sink to my knees, backing her up against a wall.
I hitch one of her legs over my shoulder then the other. Mack’s hands flail down to my head. Her pleas fall on deaf ears.
“Trick, serio
usly.” She pauses. “Oh God.”
I smile against her pussy as I glide my tongue through her folds. My fingers dig into her ass. I’m relentless, swirling my tongue and sucking hard on her clit. Mack’s moan grows in intensity. She fists a handful of my hair and tugs on it when she cums all over my tongue. The sweetest nectar I’ve ever tasted.
“Jesus, Trick, what’s wrong with you?” Mack asks, panting and peering down at me.
“Want you. Need you.”
Mack wiggles one leg off my shoulder then eases herself into a standing position. She plants her palms on my chest, backing me up until I’m forced to sit down on a wooden bench. She drops to her knees, licking her lips.
“You bring out the crazy in me, Trick.” She makes easy work of getting my throbbing cock out.
“My bad.” I shrug.
She stands back up. “No, you’re good, baby.”
I hiss when Mack settles down on me. She sinks slowly until she hits the base of my dick. Her rhythmic moves are slow at first. It’s pure torture. I clutch her ass, beginning to control her speed, slamming her tight pussy down on me. I’ve been careful not to be too rough with Mack. That sense of control shreds into bits.
I stand in one swift movement. Mack scrambles to hang on. I’d never let her fall. We find our tempo within seconds. I slam her down on me in a swinging motion while thrusting in her.
“Not gonna last, baby. You there yet?” I hiss.
“Trick. Oh, Trick. I’m there. Don’t stop. Let go.” She drops her head to the top of my shoulder.
I follow her command. My balls tighten, my teeth clench, and that sensational tingle darts up my spine. I begin to roar out my release. Mack pops her head up and seals her lips to mine, caging the echo of the sound. She falls limp in my arms, placing a line of kisses down my jawline.
“You okay?” she asks.
Mack’s been amazing not putting pressure on the topic of my family. She’s no idiot, though. It’s clear it’s been eating me alive.
“Fucking golden now.” I bury my face in her hair.
“You’re lying, but I’ll give you time.”
I chuckle. We clean up in a hurry. I need to get to the gym.
“Are you good heading to the gym when Layla does?” I ask, pulling up her shorts and buttoning them.
“Yes!” She claps her hands together. “More baby time.”
I shake my head. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I want her to have my last name and pregnant with my baby. I have no doubt it will happen one day. It’s too soon right now.
Jag gives me hell before I leave. The girls roll their eyes. With one final lingering kiss to Mack, I begin the short walk to the gym. A bright yellow van whizzes past me. It reminds me of my own bundle of sunshine; I reach down in my pocket for my phone to text her.
“Shit,” I mutter.
I must’ve left my phone on the counter at Jag’s. I don’t have time to turn around. I’ll have to use my old iPod for music. I square my shoulders and fight to get in the right frame of mind.
Chapter 20
Mack
I volunteer to clean up the kitchen. Mindless work always soothes me. Being around those sweet babies has done one hell of a job of doing that as well. I spot a black iPhone on the counter. Picking it up, I notice it’s Trick’s. I push the home button, but it remains black.
Popping back into the living room, I hold it up. “Do you guys have a charger? Trick left his phone.”
“Right here.” Sunni holds her hand up.
I give it to her, and she plugs it in. I go back to the kitchen, finishing up my job.
“Mack,” Sunni whisper-yells from her seat. “It’s not dead. It was powered off.”
“Okay.” I dry my hands off on a dishtowel and join the gang in the living room.
I grab it from Sunni to see the phone coming to life. A full battery signals at the top of the screen. Odd, he had it turned off.
“Does it need a charge?” Sunni asks.
“No,” I whisper.
Several texts from Trick’s mom pop up on the screen. I can read the first line of each one. My curiosity wins out. I’m concerned about Trick; it’s not that I’m nosey.
Mom: Trenton, I really need you to call me.
Mom: I’m not going to lie here or try to trick you into coming home. Your dad is dying. He’s been given weeks at the most. I want this shit fixed between the two of you. If at all possible, please come home even if it’s for a weekend.
Mom: Sorry, to drop this on you in a text. I knew you would never listen to me.
Mom: I love you.
“Mack, everything okay?” Sunni leans forward in her recliner, causing it to squeak.
I swallow hard. “Yeah, just can’t believe Trick left his phone behind.”
“He seemed off today,” she replies.
I shrug. “I think it’s the fight tonight.”
Nobody in the room buys my excuse. They also don’t push me, for which I’m thankful. I fell fast for Trick and continue to do so every single day, and to see him struggling guts me. I know all too well that sometimes you have to come to grips with your problems all on your own. Trick was the one person to push me out of my comfort zone. It was scary as hell. Took a whole hell of a lot of nerve to do so. I did it all in my own time. Now I sit here with close friends, all of us concerned over Trick. Even though I’m worried about him, it’s also comforting to know we will have his back.
I’m relieved when Sunni asks if we’ll help bathe the babies. Yes, it takes all four of us to do so. Those boys do not like the water at all. It was a party of constant screaming.
“Dexter, it’s okay, baby. Ssshhhh.” I pick him up in his fresh clothes and cradle him to my chest, rocking back and forth.
Felix is still kicking and screaming on the changing table. Jag’s doing his best to get his diaper on him. Everything happens in slow motion.
An arc of pee shoots up and nails Jag right between the eyes. And his mouth was open.
“Are you kidding me, son?” He wipes his face off with the back of his hand.
Layla’s howls of laughter outmatch Felix’s cries. She manages to talk through it all. “I got that on video. Priceless.”
“I’m gonna kick your ass, Layla,” Jag grits out. “It’s okay, Felix, you can pee on your aunt when you’re older.”
Sunni shoves Jag to the side. He doesn’t protest; instead he races to the bathroom. The sound of the shower fills the tiny apartment. Sunni gets the job done in a matter of seconds. And the babies are ready to eat once again. It’s all they do. Eat, sleep, poop, and pee; such a rough life.
We get Sunni settled in her recliner. She has it down nursing both of the babies. I’m pretty sure Layla and I are just in the way.
“Okay, we’re going to head out.” Layla bends down and kisses Sunni’s forehead. “I’ll text you guys updates. Oh, and I’ll make sure to show the entire gym the video.”
“Sounds good. Thank you, guys, for everything. Come back anytime.”
Jag reappears with just a towel wrapped around his hips. He points a finger straight at Layla. “Share that video, and I will kick your ass.”
“Remember all the times you’ve depantsed me? It’s on, buddy!”
He chases after her. Layla is faster getting out of the apartment. Jag follows her. I whip my vision to the open door and back to Sunni. She doesn’t seem shocked he ran outside only wrapped in a towel. I shouldn’t be either. The man is insane.
I gift Sunni with one more wave before stepping outside.
“You shit,” Jag hollers.
I gasp when I come into view of Jag’s bare ass. Layla waves the towel around her head as if it’s a victory flag. She taunts him for a few beats before tossing it back at him. It’s a wonder she hasn’t pissed herself. Jag flips her the bird then spins on his heels. The grin on his face is damn near contagious. I keep my eyes focused straight ahead, not eager for another towel mishap.
“Mack.” Jag snags my shoulder before
I can get past him.
“Yeah.” Eyes still focused up.
“Talk to Boss. Have him step in. It’s the only way you’ll get Trick to listen.”
I take a step back, shocked. Does he know more about Trick than I do?
“Okay,” I stutter out.
“Don’t give up on him.”
This comment makes my spine stiffen. “I’d never do that, Jag. I love him.”
“Good.” He slaps my ass as he walks past me. “Good talk, sport.”
Did he just coach me? I’m confident he did.
“Daddy’s home!” Jag shouts before shutting the door.
I can’t quite make out what Sunni shouts back at him, but I’m relatively sure the F-bomb was involved.
***
The gym is packed like a can of sardines. Makes sense since this is a sanctioned fight. This place has become like a second home to me. If I want to spend time with Trick, this is the place. It comforts me even if he’s training. It’s hot, sweaty, man candy for all the taking. My man candy.
Layla points out our seats before rushing off. They’re front once again. I don’t recognize one familiar face, convincing me the fighters and Boss must be in the locker room. I’ve heard all about the after-fight locker room scandals. It seems it’s tradition for Cruz to take Layla back there after every fight, even the ones he doesn’t fight in. There have been some rumblings about Jag and Sunni doing the same thing.
Our bathroom romp was good enough for me. I cover my face with my hand, thinking about it. I still can’t believe we did it. My core tightens remembering what Trick did to me. I catch Boss striding up to the front counter and decide it’s a now or never moment. There really is no perfect time to have this discussion.
“Boss.” I tap him on his shoulder.
He whirls around, a scowl firmly planted on his face. It softens the moment he sees me. “Mack-A-Bee, what’s up?”