by Dakota Gray
I take another breath and just admit I love Kennedy. My gaze goes back to her.
My world tilts a little as she smiles at Gabriel. Yeah, as always, she's beautiful. Her golden eyes, her pin up figure isn't why my heart is trying to fight its way out of my chest.
I love Kennedy, and I know what love is. I'm not confused about what I'm feeling.
And I fucked it up.
*****
I'm up by five and at the London-Berg gym by six. Tarek does a double take when he sees me, and then he stares like I'm riding on one of the four horsemen's steed.
“Where's Nate?” I ask.
“Taking a piss before he hits the treadmill. What do you need?”
I smile because I know the exact reaction I’m about to get. “Emotional advice.”
“Oh, shit.” Tarek grabs at his chest. “It is the end of the world.”
“I’m in love with Kennedy, and I fucked up.”
He blanks his face of any emotion. “I’m surprised. So shocked. Didn’t see that coming.”
“I love her so much I won’t punch you right now for teasing me about it.”
“Did birds and other woodland creatures make your bed this morning?”
“Same ones I’m going to send to kick your ass.”
“I’m sure I can take them.”
“Can we get to the part of the conversation where you give me advice, or do you need five more minutes to hold me over a barrel?”
“I reserve the right to come back to this later, but first thing first, apologize for everything you’ve done. I mean from the moment you met her and fucked up. Second, gifts, but things only she would love. Third, apologize again.”
Nate strolls over to us, looks at my face then says, “I see you finally realized you love her and how much you fucked up. Apologize first.”
“Tarek covered that. And gifts.”
Nate considers that for a moment. “The tough part is showing her you won’t ever hurt her again. You’ve got to de-asshole yourself and emote. You’re going to have to emote like a motherfucker.”
“That’s it?”
Nate raises his brows then scoffs. “I’m going to call my mama and have her put you on the prayer list at her church. Other than that, is there anything else you need?”
I glance at Tarek and my throat thickens, tightens. My stomach flips and I know how I’m feeling is all in my head. I can ask the next question without consequences. I haven’t let myself acknowledge vulnerability in a long while. Never mattered if I wasn’t standing in a courtroom trying to curry favor with a jury or a judge.
I swallow the question. “All right. I might need a favor or two.”
“I got you,” Tarek says.
“Anything you need,” Nate says.
And I can breathe deeply again. “While I’m here, let me bitch about working out.”
Nate snorts and glances at Tarek. “We can race on the treadmill. See who gives up first.”
“No deal,” Tarek says. “I have a client coming in.”
“Keisha?”
He shakes his head. “That’s over.”
That’s interesting. “Do I want to know?”
He shakes his head. “But call me if you get stuck. Try not to fuck up again, and be patient.”
He gives one more nod before heading toward the mats. A man about half his size is waiting for him. Without turning to Nate, I ask, “What happened?”
“He hasn’t told me either.”
“That bad?”
“That bad.”
He pushes my shoulder. “Come on. The treadmill will clear your mind. You might even ask the question you were too scared to.”
“Was it that obvious?”
“You forget. I’m that guy.”
I laugh and don’t ask it. I’m not sure if I want to know if it’s too late. Or worse, if she could ever love me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
At five, I send a text to Gabriel.
D: I’m picking you up.
G: K’s taking me.
D: Tell her we agreed that I get you weekdays after hrs.
G: RU trying to see her?
I glare at my phone then glare out my car window. Yes, I left work early for this. I still don’t know all I have to do to prove to Kennedy I’m not going to be a good guy, but I’m not going to be cruel or treat her like shit because she made me...feel...weak. I have to start somewhere though.
D: Yes.
G: K.
I go to put my phone in my pocket, but it chirps with a new text.
G: Thx 4 yesterday. I owe u.
I put my phone away to drive to Kennedy’s job. When I get a block away from her place, I have to take off my suit jacket because sweat leaks into my armpits. I’m sure I’m going to puke when I pull into the driveway and see her and Gabriel standing by her car. He’s talking with his hands while she frowns at him. Then he smiles, pointing to my car.
It’s not until I’m in the stall right next to hers that I can see the problem. Her front tire is well on its way to a flat. I step out and spot the missing tire valve cap. Now I hate to be suspicious but a strong, hollowed out pen could easily flatten a tire.
I direct my question to Gabriel, “You don’t know how to change a flat?”
“Not even my dad has ever changed one. He calls Triple A.”
Kennedy crosses her arms over her chest. “Let me guess, you don’t know how to either, Duke?”
“I do.” She’s talking to me. I know that’s a step in the right direction. “The question is do you have a spare?”
She rounds her car to pop the trunk. Gabriel glides over to me to take my hand. I don’t have to look to know the bit of plastic he’s pushing into my palm is a tire cap.
“I’ll wait in your car,” he says.
I should feel guilty for being a bad influence on a young adult but I appreciate the shit out of the move.
“It appears,” she says, “a spare is all I have. No jack or tire iron. I could have sworn it was all in the tire well.”
Such a horrible, terrible influence. “I have mine.”
“You don’t have to. I have insurance to cover it.”
“By the time they get out here I could be done.”
She crosses her arms. “I would prefer if you didn’t.”
I say nothing to that until I get everything I need out of my wheel well. I even take off my work shirt so I’m only left in a tank top for the dirty work. She narrows her eyes at me. Since I know her, I can practically hear every argument she’s going to throw my way.
“I’m not leaving you out here with a flat tire.”
“Now you care about me?” her laugh is sharp and bitter.
I step in front of her, as always, I make sure we’re eye to eye. “I’ve always cared about you. I’m starting to think I’ve never felt any other way.”
“Don’t.” She steps away from me.
I grip the jack and say what I should have. “I’m sorry for everything I said to you that night. I’m sorry for how I treated you. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
“I know I didn’t.” She stuffs her hands in her pockets. “Just hurry up so I can go home.”
I get to work but I’m aware I’m not going to have long to speak to her. Good thing I’m a pro at taking an inch and making it a mile. “I’m taking Gabriel to my home and feeding him. I’ve been on his case for well over a month, and I’ve yet to meet his father.”
A tense silence follows then she sighs. “His father is a truck driver. He’s not home a lot. Why didn’t you know that?”
“Neither he or Preston talk about him, and I wasn’t going to pry if it wasn’t my business.”
“But clearly you grew a heart overnight?”
My mouth lifts into a smile. “No.”
“Then why are you teaching him chess?”
“I didn’t know what else to do. I’m not good at this.”
“What?”
“Nate and Tarek know me. We’ve been throu
gh a lot of shit. They trust me and vice versa. I don’t have to tell them what I’m thinking or how something hits me. They know. They know they can call me on anything if I step out of line.”
“So?”
“I’ve forgotten how to not be an asshole. Gabriel is...I like the snot-nosed bastard.”
She blinks, looking shocked. “What is it about him?”
My throat closes once again. I focus on the tire for a very long minute. Her car is fairly new so the bolts loosen like I’m cutting through warm butter. “People like him deserve to believe there is hope out there in the world. The bad guys go to jail. The good guys win.”
“And people like you can change. I hate to be the one to break it to him.” She walks off after that, back toward her office. She’ll be back, but only when I’m gone.
I didn’t believe showing her I was willing to step up would be easy. I didn’t think how much it would sting until she did—if she ever would.
I press my head against the car and try to breathe. Takes a bit for me to find my equilibrium.
I finish replacing her tire and put everything up as it should be. I make a mental note to buy her replacements for a tire iron and jack. No telling where Gabriel put them, and having them show up in her trunk miraculously would point the guilty finger right at him.
Takes about ten minutes in all. Not enough time. More than I could have hoped for. I slip into my car and tell Gabriel to text her that I’ll leave when I see her off safely in her car. Two minutes later she gets into hers without looking at me.
Gabriel sighs. “You really messed that up.”
“I know.”
“I kind of feel bad for you.”
“Don’t. I did it to myself.”
“I don’t know. You look kind of pitiful.”
I laugh at the smartass. “I’m trying to like you, and this exchange is going to make me be your mentor.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Gwen would tell him to run fast and hard. “Call in sick tomorrow and come to the office. Be there by eight, and I’ll show you why.”
“Uncle P couldn’t get me interested in being an attorney.”
“That’s what you keep forgetting. I’m not him.”
“He messed up all his relationships too.”
Ouch. I think of my father and all the lies they had to tell when he died. He was who he was. My mother is convinced he had moments of...softness. I’m not there yet, and I don’t know if I ever will be. Not the point. My father didn’t have a Nate or Tarek. “Does he have friends or business associates?”
“The latter.”
“There ya go. If you show up tomorrow and can survive...”
“And?”
I shrug. “You won’t survive. There’s no point to dangle a carrot.”
“I will.”
I laugh, and I know I’ve got him. He’s also not looking too sad today. I want to keep it that way. “You won’t.”
“Bet me.”
I start the car. “Come up with something I really want and we’ll have a wager.”
“I could get Kennedy to meet you for a coffee.”
“No bet.”
“Why?”
“She’s not something I put a wager on. That’s the first rule in learning how to survive tomorrow. Everything and everyone is on the board, but not everything or everyone is a game to be played. You gotta have a line.”
“Then why did you hurt her?”
He’s got the ability to be ruthless, I’ll give him that. I glance at him. His expression is earnest. I don’t think that’s his age, but him.
“She said checkmate, and I flipped the fuck out. Now I’ve taken this metaphor as far it can go. I’m taking you to my house and I’m feeding you. Then I’m getting rid of you because you’re a pain in my ass.”
“No, I’m not. You like me.”
I do. Snot-nosed bastard. “What do you want to eat?”
He smiles and slouches in the car’s seat. “Pizza.”
“Jesus. I’m going to have to teach you how to be civilized.”
“Am I a game to be played?”
“No, much to my irritation. Put on your seat belt.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Can I at least hope Kennedy forgives you?”
“Fuck.” He’s killing me again. “Yeah. Hope is fine.”
*****
“Screw you. Screw your family who taught you this is fun or whatever the hell drives you. I’m done. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m leaving.”
These words are directed at me as I step off the elevator, finally back at the office after a long day in court. It’s four in the afternoon, and already Gabriel’s calling it quits.
What I know is that Gabriel’s eyes were alight after I questioned a forty-year-old male cab driver. He witnessed a drug deal from his car while on break.
My client fit the description and had been around the corner at his girlfriend’s house. He’d gone to the store in the right window of time. He has a record of petty crimes dating back five years but nothing since. As far as the prosecution is concerned, he did it.
I doubt it, though. Not the point. People do the dumbest shit. It’s not far-fetched a man with a good job, a stable and budding romance and a nice life would buy drugs in a sketchy alley. My way in is that witness testimony is shit. Your brain tells your eyes what to see. That’s what I showed the jury.
And Gabriel.
Beneath the complaints, he’s buzzing from it all. He’s determined to hate it, like most people his age who have made a never stance.
I send off the email then glance in his direction. “I’ve won is that what you’re saying? You’re leaving before my work day is done?”
Quiet then he says, “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Sounded like it.”
“I’m not going to be an attorney.”
I drop my phone into my pocket. “You’ve never said why.”
“It’s boring.”
“Okay.”
“No offense.”
I stop barreling toward my office and turn to him. “Do I look offended?”
“You still look like shit.”
I asked for that. “I still have to make a few calls, finalize some paperwork. I can understand if you want to go home.”
“What kind of calls?”
I don’t smile. Gloating is unbecoming. I swivel on my heel, and then my step slows once I catch sight of Gwen. Kennedy’s leaning on her dolly, and from the way my paralegal is smiling, a juicy story is unfolding. Yeah. There’s the imaginary two-by-four hitting me right in the chest whenever I see Kennedy. Yup. It’s worse when I get close enough to smell her shampoo.
I’ve apologized. It wasn’t enough. Now I can only offer her gifts of things only she would love.
“Gwen, Kennedy,” I say as the only warning I’m there.
Her knuckles turn ashen from how hard she grasps the dolly. “I thought you were in court until five.”
“After a few rounds of cross they called it quits early.”
“Oh, you either badgered a witness or said objection enough times during the day, the judge needed a break.”
Gabriel is helpful enough to say, “He hates the prosecutor.”
Remember Wesley the Third? Yeah. He’s the prosecutor.
Kennedy’s mouth pulls into a smile. “Let me take one guess,” she says. “He called him Chiseled Chin at least once today?”
“Yes,” Gabriel confirms with too much laughter in his tone. “He really hates that guy.”
“He’s an institution,” I say in my defense. “There’s nothing about him that’s original or genuine or special. He’s going to succeed in life just because he was born.”
Kennedy’s golden eyes flash at me. “And you won’t?”
There’s the ache again. She only sees the Alexander name. “I’d be lying if I said some things weren’t handed to me on a platter. But I hate easy wins as a matter of course. I challenge myself in my
free time. I fight dirty, yes, but I always fight. I take the hard way because it always, always means more.”
She swallows and I glance between my paralegal and Gabriel. They fell silent watching the exchange. They are both nosy as hell and taking notes. “Kennedy, can I have a minute? I want to show you something in my office.”
“No.” She doesn’t hesitate to say.
“Will you at least stand here for two minutes while I go to my office and get you something?”
“One,” she counters.
It takes me forty-five seconds with a light jog. The case I’m holding is black, velvet and the size of my hand from wrist to fingertip. I offer it to her. She takes it with trepidation.
“I don’t want anyth—” is the start of her protest until she opens the box.
Inside lay six pens decorated with polka dots—blue and white, red and white, black and white, etc. Each inscribed with her full name. There’s no way anyone could steal these on purpose, or even thoughtlessly, without getting caught eventually.
She runs her fingers over the pens and balls her fist. “Don’t.” Her voice shakes on the single word.
Kennedy could be asking me for a million things. Don’t give her gifts. Don’t show her I’m thinking about her. Don’t expect forgiveness. Don’t make her eyes shimmer with tears.
I don’t know.
I turn to go back to my office. “Come on, Gabriel. You still have calls and busy work to suffer through before I let you go for the day.”
“Duke,” Kennedy says.
I stop and turn to her. “I really am sorry for being a piece of shit to you.”
She snaps the case closed and puts it on Gwen’s desk. My paralegal’s gaze is wide as she eats up every twitch. Hell, it feels like the entire bull pen has gone quiet watching the exchange and my inevitable rejection.
“It’s too expensive of a gift. I can’t take them.”
She scrambles away without another word. Silence descends around me, my paralegal, and Gabriel. I look beyond them and everyone seems to be cringing at what just happened.
I close my eyes and lean against the desk because the hit hurt. It digs and eats at me. There’s no depth of denial I can hide under.
I would have likely stood there for the rest of the day to try and find my equilibrium. The phone on Gwen’s desk rings and snatches me out of the abyss.