Violation (10 page)

“Noah, take your fucking hands off me.”

“Serena calm down!” I placed her back on her feet but held her close.

“No! No!”

“Stop it Serena. Enough!” I boxed her up against the concrete wall. “There are video cameras down here.”

“I don’t care!”

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t!”

“Whatever is going on, don’t take it out on the poor car.”

“Fuck you! Let me go!”

“We are both on these cameras.”

“I hate him and this car.”

“This car is not why you’re upset. Please don’t do this. Security will come if you don’t stop this.”

Serena looked at my hands. I had her shoulders pinned to the wall. Her fierce eyes willed me to let her go. I wasn’t quite sure that was the best idea. Her chestnut eyes were like daggers.

“Noah.” She was out of breath. “Let me go.”

“Are you calm?” I asked the question knowing she was far from calm.

“Yes.”

I removed my hands and took a step back. There was no way she could beat me to the discarded baseball bat.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked.

“Like what?

“Like I’m some crazy black woman.”

“You’re black and a woman. That’s true but I think you’re perfectly sane.”

She rolled her eyes. Her long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings. She pressed her thick lips into a fine line. Sweet Mrs. Jones is a firecracker waiting to spit dragon fire. It was wildly hilarious but as a gentleman, I would never laugh.

“I’m so tired of him treating me like shit. I don’t deserve this shit.”

The tears started flowing. I was completely out of my element. I didn’t know what to do. I did know I was pissed at Deshawn. Sure he wasn’t around but I felt like he put me in a terribly unfamiliar situation.

“Serena talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been here forever. I came with Deshawn in that car.” She pointed at the custom Ferrari. “He left me here.”

“Where did he go?”

“Do I look like I know?”
Oh she had a mouth on her.

“Are you going to wait for him? Or are you going to drive yourself home?”

“With what car?” She placed her hands on her hips.

“You can drive his Ferrari home if you promise to keep the bat far away from the windows.” My remark warranted another eye roll from Mrs. Jones.

“With what key? I don’t have a goddamn key to his precious car?”

“He didn’t leave the key?” A question that sounded stupid as soon as it left my lips.

“No he didn’t leave the damn key.” Her neck nearly rolled off her shoulders.

I knew of Dee’s whereabouts. I wasn’t a snitch. Deshawn was really taking his escapades too far. He drove here with his wife and he left with one of his side-chicks. He didn’t even leave the damn car key for Serena to drive herself home. His behavior boggles me. I can’t begin to understand why he welcomes the drama. He basks in the theatrics.

I swear to God I’m never getting married. Is this what marriage to an NBA player looks like? Will I one day be Deshawn and so many of my other teammates? Will I have a wife, kids and a mistress with my kids? I don’t want to be in this hopeless position. This is just a lot of unnecessary drama. This wasn’t how I was raised but I’m afraid this is exactly what I will become.

“Serena, have you been drinking?” I could mildly smell it on her. I wonder if that’s the reason Deshawn left her without the keys.

“Yes I was drinking but I’m not drunk. I’m pissed the fuck off.”

“I understand.”

“Do you really understand? You have a dick so I doubt it.”

“I do.”
Have a dick.
“Understand.”

She tossed me another eye roll like she was handing me a basketball for a layup. Maybe I should start to tally them eye rolls up.

“Being a fucking basketball wife is more trouble than it’s worth. I want out. I’m tired of this shit.”

Okay. “Serena I can drive you home.”

“I can get a taxi.”

“No, not when you’ve been drinking.”

“Stop acting like I’m helpless!”

“Stop yelling at me. If something happens to you out here at night, by yourself then I’m responsible.”

“No you’re not responsible.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Serena get in my fucking truck.” I pointed across the garage at my Black Range Rover.

She didn’t budge. I grabbed the baseball bat off the pavement. “Come on, get in,” I ordered instead of asked. Serena was something else.

If something happened to her I would feel terrible. Deshawn would murder me. I scooped up my duffel bag and headed to my truck. I refused to look back at her. I unlocked my truck doors with two clicks. I tossed my duffel and the bat in the rear seat. I closed the back door and got into the driver’s seat.

I only had to wait a few seconds before she opened the passenger door and got her little defiant ass in. We both buckled up. I pulled out my assigned space and exited the underground garage and made my way to the highway.

I drove as she silently cried. I thought about turning the radio on but decided against it. It bothered me that she was hurt but I had seen this scene too many times with these wives. I wasn’t blaming them but they put up with so much bullshit. I can say that I am fairly numb to it. Or at least, I try to be.

Serena wiped her endless stream of tears. I could see her doing it but I refused to look over at her or acknowledge that she was hurting. I swear Deshawn is going to owe me big time. It seems like I have to wrangle all his women at some time or another.

Seeing her like this was not on my to-do list. She was the same person that got the sellers to knock 2 million off my house in South Barrington. Seeing her like this wasn’t ideal but we all had our issues. Can’t he just show her some attention and fuck her regularly so she can stop acting out?

I glanced over at her when I thought it was safe. The seatbelt was fastened in between her breasts. Her shirt hung open just a bit. It was enough to give me a glimpse of her black lace bra. She didn’t notice my eyes catching a glimpse of her ample breasts. They were there. I saw them. End of story.

She cried her eyes out until I pulled into her Barrington Hills circular driveway. I hoped she wouldn’t be home alone. I just felt bad for her. I didn’t think she was suicidal or anything. Basketball wives are resilient. I just hoped she had someone in that huge house she could talk to.

Serena snatched her purse off the floor and she got out of my truck. Not a word, she just hopped out. Is this what marriage looks like? It looks painful and ugly. I’m cool with my relationship with Shelley. I’m not going to be this kind of spouse. I hope I won’t be this kind of husband.

I drove home and was happy to have that out the way. Dee better chill. This time Serena was gunning for his ride. Next time she might be cracking skulls. I arrived home in minutes. I climbed into bed next to my girlfriend.

The next morning Shelley was up before me. I reached over and she had left the bed. I went downstairs and found her in the kitchen. She was making breakfast. I took a seat at the kitchen island. It was fun to watch her try to cook. She wasn’t great at it but her food was edible.

“I thought you would be asleep a little longer.” She turned to me with a bottle of water in her hands. She slid it over to me.

“Thanks. My cell phone buzzed. It woke me up.”

“Oh is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, it was Serena. She apologized about her behavior last night.” It was a long apology for her erratic behavior. She thanked me for returning her home safe and sound. It wasn’t necessary. Serena is family. I would do anything for Deshawn and his family. He would do it for me. I didn’t have to share all my thoughts with Shelley.

“Oh well that’s good.” There was something in her tone that I couldn’t quite make out.

“Good for Dee’s car.” I had given my girlfriend a brief play by play of last night’s events.

“She’s a bit hot-headed.”

“She’s been through a lot. Deshawn Jones is a strong force.”

“He’s your friend.”

“Yeah he is.” What did she mean? I’m not an idiot. I can tell when people are withholding commentary. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m just saying he is a powerful force and she seems weak.”

“In what way is she weak?”

“She’s married to a very successful man but she acts like a child. I can actually understand why he cheats on her. She has no class.”

I chuckled and wasn’t sure why that was my reaction to her assessment of Serena. “Well that’s a bit harsh. She’s hurting. That’s all. We all have been hurt before.”

“But do we take it out on a three hundred thousand dollar car?”

“People act out in different ways.”

“He cheats. So she should deal with it or divorce him. Everyone knows there’s no prenup.”

“Shelley here’s a thought. Maybe she loves her husband. Maybe she doesn’t care about the money and wants her marriage to work. It’s easy to leave but hard to stay and work things out.”

“It’s stupid for her to stay with him. She’s just stupid in my opinion.”

“Some people believe until death do us part.” Some people like me.

“Sorry I have a different opinion. I think she’s pathetic.”

“You wouldn’t understand. Your parents are divorced and mine are still married.”

“I like Vanessa. She’s a better match for Deshawn.”

“The video hoe that slept with half the rappers on the East and West coast is a better match?” I snickered. “Believe me, if he marries Vanessa she will turn into a Latin version of Serena a year into the marriage. I know Dee. He treats them all the same. Serena is the only one he really cares about.”

“He doesn’t care about her. She just won’t let go and he doesn’t want to give her half his fortune for sitting on her ass.”

I couldn’t win this argument. Maybe Shelley was jealous of Serena for some reason unbeknownst to me, some chick thing. All the basketball wives adored Serena. Maybe the girlfriends didn’t like her much but they all respected her position at the top of the significant-other food chain.

The guys always say they want a ride or die chick. I’m not sure Shelley is that for me. I don’t want a wife that will leave me and take half. I love Shelley but there will definitely be a prenup. I wonder if she would sign one? Why does she think she’s better or smarter than someone who is already a basketball wife? I just don’t understand her hostility toward Serena. I love Deshawn but I still have sympathy for Serena. The way he treats her is rather deplorable.

PRESENT DAY

We had an away game in Vegas. I had mixed feelings about it. I needed to put some space between Serena and me. A few states seemed like a good idea. Separation worked better when it was mandatory. I wasn’t the type of guy that discarded a woman once I had a few rolls in the hay. I wish I could get Serena’s fragrant scent off my body. I wished I could get her lingering presence out my head. It’s hard to erase someone with so much magnetism. She was someone who took our platonic friendship and made it into something intimate, erotic and satisfying. Or was it me that did that? I didn’t actually have to insert my penis inside her vagina, mouth or ass. Or did I?

If I could just get furious with her for suggesting coffee, drinking wine, drinking too much wine, undressing in front of me, sucking my dick like a professional porn star and all the other stuff in between. I can’t be mad at that. Can I?

We played the game against the Panthers and we won. My dirty mind and my misgivings about my previous sexual activities didn’t affect my B-ball game. I liked hanging out with Dee one-on-one. It was helping put things into perspective for me. I loved Dee. We shared a brotherhood that I had never had in my life. This man has seen me cry tears. He has listened to my problems. I could not continue to fuck his wife. I’m the biggest douche in the history of douches. It’s just that simple. Do not stick your big penis in Serena’s warm, wet, tight cozy little vagina. Shit!

Deshawn suggested we all go to a club. I was okay with hanging with my teammates after a game in a regular nightclub. The place he suggested was upscale and discreet, a mecca to the stars when they honored Vegas with their celebrity presence. Basically, it wasn’t a strip club.

I probably wouldn’t get ratted out for being in a strip club but I didn’t want to embarrass my mother and father. They’re pretty proud of me. I come from regular hard-working people. My parents worked hard their entire lives. Having a son with a college degree and millions of dollars for bouncing a basketball was a big deal in my family. My mother claimed she knew I would be something great. I’m not certain how she could have predicted my success. I was a plump kid that snapped the heads off my sister’s dolls.

Tonight I was dressed to impress because Deshawn told me to look sharp. It was only five of us players out tonight. We had an early morning flight. Most of the team just wanted to stay in the hotel and get some shuteye.