12 Rounds (Knockout 1)

What he’s doing?

Who he’s with?

What urgent matter could pull him out of bed at such a late hour?

I can’t tell you how many times I want to ask him these questions. And I can’t tell you how many times fear shocks my heart at the thought of him tiring of me, and going back to his sexually deviant ways.

After all, we haven’t even gone that far yet. Believe me, I’ve been more than willing and ready to give that part of myself to him. But Sean insists every time we’re together intimately that it’s not the right moment. Part of me thinks that maybe he’s planning something special. That it’s important for him not to push me or rush things. More than anything I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to resist before the urge to jump his bones overwhelms me.

I know I should give him the benefit of the doubt. I know I should trust him. Maybe give him a chance to explain himself, but this deep kind of relationship is unchartered territory for me. I can’t help it if I’m a little suspicious. Or jealous. Or want him to stop brooding and openly communicate with me.

Seconds pass.

Then minutes.

My eyes are still wide open and I’m staring out into a river of black. Then I hear it. The soft vibration of Sean’s cell phone against the wicker nightstand. First a groan exits Sean’s lips. Then the mattress dips down. I shut my eyes tight pretending to sleep. The soft clicking sound of Sean fiddling with his cell phone fills my ears. There’s another shift in the mattress and I can feel Sean’s body heat as he hovers over me. I can feel his warm breath waft against my ear. His lips touch my hair and I can even feel the warmth from them as it bleeds through my thick strands.

Then he gets up, tip toes across the room, and leaves me alone to be swallowed by darkness.

It’s at that moment that I decide that this is a golden opportunity for me. An opportunity to eavesdrop and discover exactly who, or what my boyfriend is keeping from me.

Chapter Thirty Two

~Sean~

It never fails.

Connie always manages to call me about business that has to do with the brotherhood at the most inopportune moments.

For fuck’s sake, it’s 2:30 in the morning, and I was having the best dream about Hadlee, naked on my boat while we were at my lake house when my vibrating phone woke me. God damn it. I tuck the image of Hadlee standing on the bow of my boat in her birthday suit, beckoning me closer with a seductive smirk and her finger into the back of my mind. I lean over her, kiss her hair, smil

ing as my heart beat accelerates.

Then I slip quietly out of the bedroom.

I wander out into my living room, plop down on the couch and speed dial Connie.

I know that relationships require honesty. They require both parties being able to trust each other. And I know that should have told Hadlee about my dealings with the brotherhood from the jump. But I didn’t. I didn’t because I already feel like I’m falling when it comes to her. I feel like she’s Satan and I’m the sinner and I can’t wait for her to drag me to hell. I can’t wait to feel myself burn with such an intense fire for the rest of my life because she’ll be the one dousing me in flames.

Connie picks up on the third ring. “Boy-o.” There’s the slightest bit of amusement in his voice that causes a scowl to curl on my lips. I wonder if the man ever sleeps.

“What’s up, Connie?” I ask in a low voice. “Do you need something?”

“You should know this boy-o. It’s your night to pick up the drop money. Barber will be waiting. You know where to be.”

“Barber? Where’s Murph?”

“I have the big boy handling some other stuff.”

“Okay,” I say. “What’s the drop amount?”

“Ten bricks.”

“How many ounces of blow?” I wait for him to answer. “Connie?” Another stretch of silence. “Hello.”

I stare down at my phone and notice that I dropped his call. In a flash I speed dial him again, but the call goes right to his voicemail. I try three more times, and during all of my attempts the calls go straight to his voicemail. Son of a bitch. I think about chucking the damn phone at the wall, then again, it’s not the phone it’s the fucking service provider. I make a mental note to switch to another company. I feel like I drop a call every time I get on the phone.

Standing, I start for my closet. I need to throw on a pair of sweats. But I don’t make it to my closet. I make an abrupt stop at the edge of the hall and can’t go any further. I can’t go any further because Hadlee is blocking me. She stands, her shoulder dipped in, propped up against the wall, her arms folded across her chest. A suspicious gleam in her baby blues and a scowl on her full lips. “So…” she says and trails off. “Who the hell is Connie?”