Determining Possession (Connecticut Kings Book 3) Page 3

  “Right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Sure will.”

  Shaking his head, Ramsey laughed at me again, then reached out, grabbing my shoulders. “Hey… seriously though. If you need anything…”

  “I know.”

  He nodded, and dropped his hands. “Okay. Well… I’m headed out. Gonna drive up to Bridgeport and kick it with the fam, but I’ll be back in time to pick you up in the morning. You’re at your parents place?”

  “Yeah, until I find something.”

  “Cool. See you at six.”

  “Okay. And… “ I pushed out a deep breath. “Thank you for…”

  “I’ve got you.”

  He gave a salute type of gesture as he headed out, closing the door behind himself. I sat down for a moment, then immediately got back up, gathering my phone and purse.

  Now that I’d let those tears out, more were sure to follow.

  I needed my mother.

  two

  The drive was tedious, but necessary.

  Maybe I’d grown too used to walking, to car services, whatever. Ways to get around where I could distract myself with whatever was happening on my phone. The drive from New York City to Bridgeport provided no such thing.

  With my own hands on the wheel, for that hour and a half, I was forced to… think. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with thinking, of course, but thinking led to memories, and memories led… to a place I wasn’t really ready to be.

  Not now.

  Not… yet.

  For now, distraction was much easier.

  I was passing New Rochelle when blessedly the phone rang. My left thumb tapped the button on the steering wheel that would pick the call up through the car’s Bluetooth, not even bothering to glance at the display to see who it was. I’d take a call from pretty much anybody to get myself out of my head.

  “Bishop,” I answered, and was immediately met with a familiar laugh that made me shake my head.

  “Whaddup bwoi?” Jordan asked, in a fake accent so terrible I wasn’t even sure what he was trying to emulate.

  “Not shit. Headed up to kick it with the fam.”

  “On a Monday?”

  There was obvious surprise in his tone, and I got it. I lived in New York, worked in New York. Even though the trip was short, it was still out of state, and something normally reserved for the weekends I was otherwise unoccupied. A late trip on a Monday just to turn around and be back early Tuesday wasn’t exactly the most sensible thing.

  But…

  “Yeah,” I told him, easily maneuvering my truck around the slow-moving car in front of me. “My aunt, Phylicia… my mom’s sister. She called and asked me to come up. Insisted, actually, so… you know what it is.”

  Jordan chuckled. “Yeah, I do. Gotta keep the women happy. You good with all of that though? I know I would still be fucked if—”

  “I’m good bruh, yeah,” I said, cutting him off. “What’s up with you, did you need something?”

  “Not really. Just hitting you up to let you know I talked to Nicki about the special you wanted to do for your show, showed her the film you sent from Trent’s minicamp. She’s into it, but you know what she wanted to know, right?”

  “Why was I pitching it to the Kings.”

  “Smart man,” Jordan answered, and I nodded.

  It wasn’t an unreasonable question, since the entirety of my career in the NFL had been spent with the team I was drafted into. I’d spent some of the best years of my life there, remaining until personal circumstances forced my hand.

  But it wasn’t home.

  Connecticut was.

  The Kings had always been my hometown team, and as such, even after particularly ugly games against each other, I consistently got nothing but love. When they lost, I felt that shit, even when my team was the one delivering defeat. That Super Bowl last year?

  Whew.

  I’d been so fucking proud.

  I wanted to do a special about the Kings for the simplest of reasons – I was a die-hard fan.

  “I already explained it all to her though,” Jordan continued. “She’s going to put a bug in Eli’s ear about it. I’ll let you know when I have anything else.”

  “Appreciate it man.”

  “No problem – aye, you’ll be at the wedding, right?”

  “TB and his girl? Yeah, I’ll be there. Gotta find a plus-one.”

  On the other end of the line, Jordan made a disbelieving sound. “Nigga please, go on and pull out that pussy rolodex and pick one out, stop playing.”

  “Relax,” I chuckled. “You know that’s not even my style… anymore.”

  “Yeah, I’m fucking around,” he conceded. “You bringing Lena though, right? Nicki was telling me something a few months ago about y’all being out together, so I figured…”

  I pushed out a sigh through my nose, and shook my head. “Nah. That’s done.”

  “Oh. Well… anyway, I asked because Eli will be there himself, and I can make an introduction for you.”

  “That’s what’s up. I would appreciate that man.”

  We spent a few more minutes on the phone before we hung up, and silence blanketed the car again. Common sense provided that I could’ve turned my music back on, but for some reason I couldn’t make myself do it.

  My mind was too focused on the mention of Lena.

  Dodged a goddamn bullet with that.

  There had been a moment, a few months back, when I thought things could maybe be… different. Thought she could be different.

  I was wrong – very wrong.

  Lena was the same damn girl she’d always been, but our story wasn’t meant to be a Jordan Johnson – Nicole Richardson fairy-tale rekindling. Lena McBride thought she was doing the hood a favor by dating me back in college, and my dumb ass had believed it too.

  I didn’t suffer from that same delusion now.

  Shaking my head, I went ahead and turned my sound up in the car, blasting mind-numbing music mind-numbingly loud until I pulled into Bridgeport.

  Home.

  This was where I was born and bred, in a part of the city that was often named as an area to avoid. I’d learned to navigate though. Kept my head down, stayed away from the gangs, focusing on what would keep me from being absorbed by my surroundings – school.

  That other shit? My mother wasn’t playing that.

  Call it a cliché, but I was determined to pull myself out of the hood. I did okay in school, but there were never delusions about me becoming an engineer, or a doctor. That just wasn’t my lot in life. I was good at basketball, but I wasn’t tall, and my solid frame was better suited to something else - Football.

  I gave my high school the best running back they’d ever seen. That paved the way for being scouted onto a college team that had power and money behind it. And it didn’t hurt that Blakewood State University was historically Black. That meant something to my mother, and her influence taught it to mean something to me.

  Her influence taught me… everything.

  People called both of us stupid for not going into the draft as soon as I could. What if you get hurt? What if a better player comes along? Blah, blah, blah.

  I wanted my damn degree.

  So I got it.

  And still went first in the draft.

  Running backs weren’t getting twenty-million dollar contracts left and right like wide receivers or quarterbacks – especially not on the first contract. But it was enough to do what I’d set out to do – get my mother someplace safe, where she didn’t have to worry about getting her windows shot out, and I made that same thing happen for a few other select relatives too.

  The flipside of that was the misconception that I was BOR – Bank of Ramsey. All of a sudden, my father’s side of the family wanted to pop up with their sudden pride and regret that they hadn’t done a goddamn thing to assist my mother in the conspicuous absence of my father.

  I shut that down.

  For better or worse, even though I
lived in New York now, Bridgeport was home. Driving through the familiar intersections, passing familiar sites – I used to live for the moments when I had the time and energy to make this trip.

  Now, it was all bittersweet.

  I pulled up at my aunt’s house and climbed out of the car, tossing a hand up at her neighbor across the street. The sun was setting, and taking the last of the light with it, but the woman was apparently determined to finish working on the yard before it was completely gone.

  The door swung open as I was raising my hand to knock, revealing my Aunt Phylicia on the other side. She propped a fist on her hip, and her lips twisted into a frown that she wouldn’t have been able to hold if she tried.

  “Took you long enough boy,” she scolded, then reached her arms out to me. “Come here.”

  “How you doin’ P-Diddy?” I teased her as I came in for my hug. She squeezed me as I rocked her back and forth for a second, then pulled away to close the door.

  “I’m tired is how I’m doing,” she answered, motioning for me to follow her into the kitchen. “Got me up all late, waiting on you. Don’t you know it’s past bedtime around here?”

  I laughed as I sat down at the large island that anchored her kitchen. I still remembered her crying her eyes out the day I brought her into the house and told her it was hers, if she wanted it. “If I want it? If? Are you crazy lil’ boy? Don’t be talking crazy in my new house!”

  “Stop acting like an old lady,” I told her, earning myself a raised eyebrow as she put a steaming mug of tea in front of me, then went back to the counter to retrieve one for herself.

  “Acting like what I am, baby. Sometimes you have to recognize your limitations, take care of your body. It’s the only one we get, you know?”

  I answered her with a deep nod. “Yeah, Auntie. I know.”

  My eyes fell to the mug she’d handed me, zeroing in on the “FCK CANCER” printed on the inside, designed to be seen when the mug was empty. Maybe something was wrong with me though, cause it shone right through the dark color of that tea like a beacon.

  I pushed the cup away.

  “So if you know,” she said, too preoccupied with a frantic search for something on her tablet to notice my revulsion for the tea. “Then you wouldn’t be acting like you don’t know why I go to bed early. And why you should have come sooner.”

  “I came as soon as I left work. It took time to get out of the city, and then get here.”

  “Mmhmm. Speaking of work, how is Wil holding up? Is she okay?”

  No.

  And how could she be, really? The dude she was supposed to marry had never struck me as a particularly good guy – not good enough for her, not to me – but she’d loved him, and she seemed happy. But it was Wil – she was damn near always happy, that was just who she was.

  Those tears earlier… that had burned me up.

  Of course she was heartbroken, and angry, and embarrassed. He’d hurt her in the worst kind of way, and it made sense completely for her to not be her bubbly self. But tears? I’d known Wil for almost three years now, and never seen her cry.

  “She’s… making it the best way she can. Probably still hasn’t really processed it,” I said, propping my elbows on the counter.

  My aunt shook her head. “I can’t believe that boy did her like that. She was such a sweet girl. I’ll never forget when me and your mama came up to the television studio to visit you, and she took us out to lunch cause you were stuck in an interview. You remember that?”

  “I do,” I chuckled. My mother had already been a fan, but that simple act of grace had landed Wil permanently on her “Ramsey, why don’t you marry that girl?” list. Nevermind that Wil had been in a long-term relationship since we met, and then engaged.

  “Mmmhmm. I promise you this – he’ll live to regret it. I swear these young men don’t know a good thing when they have it. Your uncle Reginald? Would have never done me like that, no sir. And that man was handsome as they come, and you know those are the worst ones. I used to tell your mama all the time – I’m so glad Ramsey had him to look up to, put some sense in his head before he became a teenager. Because with that face and those wide shoulders, you would’ve been worse than the devil boy. And then with one of those football paychecks? Whew! You know I’ve got friends that don’t know or care not a lick about sports, but they’ve got their TVs set to make sure they see you every day? I can’t even watch TV with those horny old broads, got me sitting up somewhere ready to fight about you.”

  “Your whole generation is wild, Auntie,” I laughed. “But hey… what was it you needed to show me? I know you didn’t have me drive up here to hear about your friends wanting to live out their cougar fantasies with me.”

  “Are you rushing me?”

  I grinned. “No ma’am. Just trying to keep you on task.”

  “Why do I need to be on task? You’re not going back home until in the morning, right? Your niece and nephews are downstairs on that damn video game, they probably want to see you.”

  “What are they doing out here on a Monday? They have a long weekend from school or something?”

  “Mmmhmm. I’ve gotta get them back to Stamford in time for school in the morning,” she mused as she slid the tablet across the counter to me.

  I drummed my fingers on the counter. “I would say I could take them for you, but I’m heading back so early that it—”

  “Did I ask you to do anything for me boy?” she scolded. “Get the tablet. Look at the video. That’s all I need you to do.”

  I chuckled a bit as I slid the tablet in front of me, and hit the “play” button in the middle of the screen. The first thing I saw was my mother, seated in a chaise on her back patio. There was no sound playing, but the scene was loud. Our family was all over the place, mouths open to talk or laugh, plastic cups in hand. My nephews were in front of my mother, doing some silly dance to music I couldn’t hear, and she loved it. She loved those kids so much, and it was all in her eyes, in her smile. They ran off – presumably driven by the end of the song – and a moment later, I saw myself on screen.

  I was handing her a glass – one of the thick, heavy ones only she drank out of, one of the few things she’d brought along from the house I grew up in. I knelt in front of her, running a hand over the patterned scarf that covered her head, tied in an intricate knot Wil had taught her on a completely random, impromptu segment of the show.

  She brought up the fact that she’d been on national TV at least once a week after that.

  Her expression changed for me. Watching the video reminded me of the moment, but I don’t think I could see it then like I saw it now. I was too busy wondering if she was too hot, if she was comfortable, if the music was too loud. I doubted that then I could see the pride in her eyes.

  “Will you get on somewhere and let me be?”

  I watched her mouth form those words, and my memory filled in the sound. I was hovering – doing too much, when she was just trying to enjoy herself. I did leave her alone – long enough to go turn the music down a little bit – and by the time I made it back, her boyfriend had taken a place next to her, so I stayed back, and went and found something else to do. The camera didn’t know all of that though – it just remained focused as Desmond leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers as he spoke what context clues told me were gentle words.

  The video ended there.

  “Chloe said she stopped there because she didn’t want to be “creeping”,” my aunt laughed, when I still hadn’t moved after the video was done. “That was a couple months before your mama’s birthday, remember? My baby sister looked good, didn’t she? With that scarf on, looking like a queen.”

  When I looked up, her eyes were glossy, which… I couldn’t handle. My gaze dropped back to the tablet, then to that goddamn mug.

  Shit.

  Was anywhere safe?

  “Chloe was trying to clear space on her phone, she said when she dropped the kids off. She told me she had the video, but she�
��d moved it all to the cloud or something, and she was trying to… I didn’t really understand what she was telling me, but she remembered to email the video today. I thought you’d like to see that.”

  She was wrong, but I didn’t say that.

  Maybe in three months, maybe in six, but for now… nah.

  “This is nice, Auntie,” I told her, because it was. Future Ramsey would find value in it, but right now, the shit felt like a blade to the chest. “You good with me kicking it here for the night?”

  She frowned. “Why on earth wouldn’t I be? Don’t play with me like that,” she warned, and I laughed. “You’re laughing, but I’m serious. You are always welcome in this house. You hungry? I made you a plate cause I knew you were coming. I can heat it up for you.”

  I got up, coming around the other side of the counter to wrap her in a hug that she laughed and tried to squirm out of. “You always take good care of me.”

  “I promised your mama I would, and I meant it.”

  “And it’s appreciated.”

  A little grin climbed onto her face as she looked at me.

  “I know. Now go on down there and see about those kids. Alexis has a boyfriend.”

  I frowned, then shook my head.

  “Nah. We’ll see about that.”

  “You know it didn’t have to be like this, right?”

  “Shut up.”

  “You were the one who insisted on coming out here.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I tried to give you a little break, let you get yourself together.”

  “Shut up.”

  “But naaaaah. “I need my morning session” – that’s what you said, remember?”

  “Shut up.”

  I grinned down at where Wil was sprawled on the ground, in a pool of sweat. As athletic as she was, Wil was the girliest of girls, so I knew she had to be desperate for a break to let even a pinch of dirt touch her skin. But still.

  “Come on,” I said, wiping sweat from my own eyes before I bent a little, smacking her firmly on the backside. “Get your ass up, let’s go Champ.”

  “Ouccch,” she moaned. “Be careful with those heavy paws, damnit.”