Baller: A Bad Boy Romance (27 page)

BOOK: Baller: A Bad Boy Romance
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It wasn’t like there was anything particularly scandalous for them to find out about anyway. What did they want to know? About how when Daniella wasn’t in the house, Quinn would cook breakfast? About how she had converted one of the guest rooms into an office for her?

 

About our sex life? What did they want to know because there were a lot of women would,
could
answer that question, not just Quinn.

 

I wasn’t proud of that fact, but it didn’t bother me that much. It was the past.

 

She didn’t bother refuting or confirming anything. It was nobody’s business but ours.

 

Unlike being out with my sister or with my mother, I was one-hundred-percent shameless when it came to being out with Quinn. I took her out as often as she would let me. Didn’t matter if it was out to eat, to the bank, or to go shopping. It didn’t matter. Seeing the pictures of us together was very satisfying to me.

 

I wanted to claim her loud and in public. I wanted everyone to know. They could have as many pictures as they wanted.

 

We got to the venue. I got out of the car on my side so I could come round the car and open her side for her. She looked gorgeous. Her hair had eventually been gathered at the back of her head in a fancy bun. She looked beautiful, but I always preferred her hair down. The dress she had worn had no straps and was red. It went all the way down to the floor.

 

We began the walk down the carpet together.

 

She hadn’t done many of these, but the red carpet was literally just the time when the photographers got to take candid shots of you. They would always make requests, like having two people together in shots as a couple, different poses and also solo shots.

 

The photographers were yelling for me to get out of the shot so that they could have some of her alone. Watching the flashbulbs, it occurred to me that this was a perfect time. If not now, then when?

 

I could always pull it out when we were together alone at the house or having a private moment, but then again, what about our life was ever going to be
truly
private? The pictures being taken at the event today were going to end up everywhere. People all over the world would see them. They would see me proposing to the woman that I loved, and her hopefully saying yes.

 

I looked down at Quinn. She must have noticed because she looked at me, too.

 

“Is everything okay?” she asked, leaning into me. She gently touched the lapel of my tux jacket. I held her hand and brought it to my mouth, kissing the back of it.

 

“Everything’s great,” I said to her.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, smiling.

 

It was now or never. It wasn’t that serious if I didn’t propose to her right then, but I
wanted
to do it then. I wanted to claim her as loudly as I could. I looked her right in the eye as I leaned into her so I could whisper into her ear.

 

“I love you, Quinn,” I said to her.

 

“I love you too, Dante.”

 

“I’m so proud of you and I’m so happy I get to call you mine… how about, we make that official?”

 

“What do you—?” She stopped when she saw me sink down onto the carpet on one knee. I pulled the ring out of my pocket and held her hand. The applause and shouts that broke out just then were deafening.

 

“Marry me, Quinn,” I said to her. I didn’t know whether she had heard me over all the noise, but I knew she knew what I was asking her. I could see her face. Her free hand was over her mouth like she couldn’t believe it.

 

Yeah, it was a surprise. The whole country was going to be surprised.

 

All she had to say was yes.
Say yes Quinn. Be mine. Forever.

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Quinn

 

The flash of the cameras made it hard to see.

 

The yelling and shouting made it hard to hear, but there was no, absolutely
no
mistaking what was happening right there on that carpet.

 

Dante was on one knee in front of me ,and it didn’t matter who you were, you knew what that action meant. He had a ring in his hand. The light from the flashbulbs made it shine aggressively. It was huge. It looked expensive. It was just the ring. There was no box.

 

Dante squeezing my hand sort of brought me back to what was happening. I had to give him an answer; he had just asked me something. He hadn’t so much asked as just told me.
Marry me, Quinn
, he had said.

 

Okay
.

 

Yes.

 

Of course.

 

The feelings sort of all crashed through me at once. I covered my mouth and felt my chest feel full like I was about to cry. I nodded.

 

“Yeah?” he asked. I barely heard him over the noise. What the hell did he mean “
Yeah
?” Was he trying to give me a chance to take it back? To change my mind? I nodded again. He slid the ring onto my finger and stood up. He hugged me and kissed me in full view of the cameras. We weren’t done with the carpet, but he took my hand and led me at a fast walk down the rest of the carpet and into the building.

 

“Dante—”

 

I tugged the hand he was holding so he would stop. It was the hand that he had put the ring on.

 

“Dante… how long have you wanted to propose?”

 

“Shit… almost as soon as you moved in,” he said.

 

“Are you serious?”

 

“Did you just say yes out there because of all the cameras? Is the real answer no?” he asked light heartedly.

 

“What? No. It’s yes. It’s still yes, but… I had no idea that this was what you wanted so soon.”

 

“We don't have to get married tomorrow. Our engagement can be as long as you want it to be.”

 

“That’s not what I meant… you never said anything. The only thing we've really discussed about the future is having kids, and we did that just today.”

 

“I’ve been trying to be reasonable. I've been holding onto this rock for so long. I didn’t want to wait. I don’t want to wait because I want you to be mine. I want it to be official. I want to give you my last name. Living with you and seeing you every day is great. It’s perfect, but I can't rest knowing there could be more. I want everything, Quinn. I want every part of you, and I want to give you every part of me, too.”

 

I leaned up and kissed him.

 

He was ridiculous.

 

He was mine.

 

We sat and I was distracted the entire duration of the event. I couldn’t stop staring at the rock. It was a yellow-tinted diamond on a rose gold band. I had never told him anything about the kind of ring I wanted or what I liked. He probably chose the color because his team was the Yellow Jackets. That meant he remembered his team was my favorite. It fit perfectly, which I had no idea how he had managed. I couldn’t see him in a jewelry store trying to tell the people who worked there that he was looking for an engagement ring. It was large and it was ostentatious, but the band was slim and delicate. The rock was perfectly clear. I wondered whether it was all his choice or whether he had help. I didn’t care either way. I was just curious. I loved it regardless. I loved
him
regardless.

 

Dante squeezing my hand reminded me that we were at a function and I had to be present. They were about to announce who was going to beat me for the award. I sat up straight in my seat and tried to pay attention.
Some night Dante had chosen to completely knock me on my ass.
Was it too late to just go the fuck home?

 

“Quinn Blaze.” I heard my name, but I didn’t immediately remember why it was important that I had just heard it. Dante stood beside me, pulling me up and hugging me.

 

Oh.

 

I had won.

 

I felt like an idiot for not paying attention and realizing what was going on. I had to get to the stage. The walk there felt like it was miles long. There was applause and I realized on the way up that I had no idea what I was going to say. I had not been expecting this. A lot of people would say that they hadn’t been expecting it but then they would launch into an entire articulate prepared speech. That was not going to be me. I had no clue what I was going to say.

 

I tried to concentrate on walking without falling. I received my award and walked up to the mic to give my speech. I wanted it to be short, but I wanted it to be honest. There was only one reason I had put the doc together. This speech was for him.

 

“This is an amazing honor,” I began. “I could never have expected that when I was putting the documentary together that it would be this well received. I went into creating it…not because of the story I wanted to tell…but because of the man the story was about. Dante Rock is a man who we are going to keep talking about because he has done exceptional things and will keep doing them.”

 

I paused as the audience applauded.

 

“When I met Dante, I never expected that our interactions and conversations would turn into the finished piece. I have to dedicate this award to him because without him there would be
no
documentary. I learned a lot from him. I know things about him that I am happy he told me. He is the kind of man that many, myself included, at the beginning were eager to classify and put into a tidy box. Dante Rock defies definition. He showed me what he really is… which was much,
much
more than we all thought or wanted to give him credit for. This is for you Dante. I love you. Thank you.”

 

THE END

BONUS BOOK – TRAITOR

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

It was morning, and it had been a long time coming.

 

Kane Peters took possession of his meager belongings, the suit from his trial, the penknife that could have served him well on the inside, and her photograph. The image got him through the darker nights.

 

None so dark as the first.

 

***

 

Kane was cornered in the shower. He had told himself that he had nothing to fear; nothing was too much too handle. But forms that surpassed even his great height threatened to rip him wide open for another man’s crimes. Rumor had spread through the showers that a baby rapist had recently arrived. Soap fell off the shoulders of men who had killed in the name of money and honor. But to hurt a child? That broke code and would be dealt with accordingly.

 

Kane held his ground in the wake of their menacing eyes.

 

“I’m a Blood Brother,” he stated simply.

 

“What the fuck is that?” the biggest guy barked.

 

Glancing at the ink on his arms, Kane thought of the days in which that mark had been enough to keep him from all harm. He was the one that men feared when other gangs tried to challenge him in the space of a fast food counter or on the cusp of a knife fight. He could take them down with a glance and head back to his crew, needing nothing more than Noel at his side and the roar of the bike between his legs. Nothing more than that.

 

“Look, buddy,” Kane started. “You better—”

 

He was driven into the tiles, and he couldn’t stop the force of the foot that spread his legs apart until he was splayed on the ground. It was a bitch move, but Kane tried to scream. He couldn’t make a sound, and as he steeled himself for the attack, Kane drifted towards a memory.

 

***

 

Angeline.

 

***

 

Her face was all pale angles below wild brown curls. When he first met her, by chance as she spent her day off ministering to the lowest corner of Frisco, Kane was nursing a sprained wrist. Normally he’d ice it down and wait it out, but after two days, the pain still raging and forced him to swallow his pride. Gritting his teeth, he fell into the feel of her hand, and she smiled when he winced.

 

“Relax,” she said. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

 

In her pink scrubs, she danced her fingers up his arm and back again. Stopping at his tender wrist, Kane sighed.

 

“I get that,” he said. “Think you can help me out… nurse?”

 

She smiled brightly and cocked her head to the side.

 

“Leave it to me,” she said. “Here.”

 

Reaching into a tiny fridge, she produced an ice pack.

 

“Hold this close,” the nurse said. Kane grudgingly brought the icy gel to his wrist and watched her move around the small exam room. She was a frenzy of quick starts and stops, her head constantly poking through the door to ask if anyone else needed her help. Her pace impressed him, and when she turned her gaze back to his, her eyes brimming with concern, Kane touched her with his good hand. His fingers curled around her neck. She gently closed her eyes, and Kane felt her flesh, warm and wanting. She seemed to forget herself. Closing her eyes, she sighed into him, and when she lifted her lids, there was nothing but two too-wide eyes, bright green.

 

“Look, mister I have to—”

 

He kept her close when she tried to pull away. He had to know more.

 

“You got a name?” he asked.

 

Again she tried to leave his hold, but before she could move, Kane forgot his injury and brought her pale face closer to his.

 

“What are you doing?” she whispered. Kane felt her body tense, but her eyes were anything but.

 

“Relax, honey,” Kane said as he grazed his fingers against her cheek. “Just trying to be friendly.”

 

The nurse began to protest, but then she paused as she seemed to realize that he wasn’t the type to give up without getting everything he wanted.

 

“Angeline,” she murmured. “Okay?”

 

She tried to turn her attention back to his injured wrist when he brought his good hand behind her back. Taking her curls between his fingers, Kane knew that he wanted to know more about her. And there was no way that she would ever be able to turn him down.

 

“What about you?” she asked.

 

No way at all.

 

“Who, me?” he asked, a confident smile crossing his face.

 

“Can’t I be friendly, too?” she challenged with a smirk.

 

Just as he had expected.

 

“I’m Kane.”

 

“How’d you hurt your hand, Kane?” Angeline asked.

 

He massaged his wrist as his eyes went dark.

 

“Price of doing business,” he said. “It happens.”

 

It might scare her some, but soon he’d get her alone and show her everything he could do, even with a bad hand.

 

But there was no fear in her eyes. If anything, Angeline was curious.

 

“And what business is that?” Angeline asked.

 

He’d show her soon enough, but first things first.

 

“You got dinner plans?” he asked.

 

Angeline blushed, but she didn’t fall away from him.

 

“And what if I say yes?” she teased

 

Pressing his palm into her, Kane’s eyes narrowed and he laughed.

 

“Cancel ‘em,” he said. “You just got a better offer.”

 

She hesitated for all of a second before smiling.

 

“Looks like,” she said.

 

***

 

“Scum!”

 

He was back in the prison showers, shaking his head, trying to scream through a tattered wash cloth. As he fought, more and more men surrounded him. Out of the corner his eye, Kane saw them working their hands around their cocks. Being a Blood Brother counted for nothing. He had taken beatings before. When he was a kid. The trick was always to focus on something else.

 

***

 

“I cancelled my imaginary plans for this?”

 

So it wasn’t the Ritz. Diner grub was good enough for him, and this was just the first course. Dessert would be more to her liking.

 

“Hey, at least you don’t have to cook,” he said as he casually pulled a smoke from his pack. Lighting the butt, smoke spilled above her head. She looked good through the haze, and he started to speak when a cracked out waitress drifted towards their table.

 

“Not in here,” she said, her eyes dazed as she moved past them in her own fog. Kane took another drag before starting to stamp the cigarette out. Angeline folded her arms across her chest.

 

“You know that’s bad for your health?” she prompted.

 

“Seriously?” he said in a mocking voice. “No one has ever told me that.”

 

Here it came. The lecture. He’d let her talk for a few seconds. But no more.  He wanted to hear other sounds pouring out of her mouth.

 

“Well, it is,” she said.

 

The flame was almost dead when she reached across the table. Taking his hand, she brought the crumpled cigarette to her lips, exhaled like a pro, then snuffed it out against her saucer.

 

“But some habits are hard to break I guess,” she said.

 

Her eyes sparkled as she scanned her menu. Leaning back, Kane knew that he liked her, and he was glad that that some punk had twisted his wrist to the point where it now was.

 

***

 

Now his arm was wrenched back again, and his soapy form was about to be ripped in two. As the tip of a strange cock started to work its way inside his ass, Kane forced his mind back to Angeline.

 

***

 

His apartment was cluttered, but she didn’t seem to mind. Brushing a pile of dirty clothes aside, she sat on the couch as he cracked open the fridge and pulled out a beer.

 

“You want one?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” she said. “Absolutely.”

 

Kane opened another bottle and sat at her side.

 

“Thanks,” she said.

 

He watched the bubbles swirling down her throat. When she set the bottle down, he shifted closer. The girl needed to be kissed, and he was the man for the job. Curling his arm around her shoulders, Angeline waited for him to make another move.

 

“Tell me, Angeline,” he started. “Do you do this with all your patients?”

 

She started to squirm in his hold, but Kane’s strength kept her close. Naturally she would say no. But how could she resist his—

 

“Oh yeah,” she said. “All the time.”

 

Kane started back and stared at her hard.

 

“You do?” he asked. Kane hadn’t pegged her as easy, but it wouldn’t be the first time that he’d read something wrong.

 

“I have burly bikers falling at my feet in scores,” she said. “Couldn’t you tell?”

 

It took him a second to realize that she was joking. When he did, they laughed together, and he drew her closer to his chest.

 

“So you want to hang out?” he asked.

 

Angeline paused. She soon brought her fingers to the stubble about his cheeks, her smile wider than her eyes.

 

“I think so,” she said.

 

“You think?” Kane asked. He leaned in to kiss her. Her lips parted easily around his, and he hugged her tighter. Leaving her mouth, she slowly shook her head.

 

“No,” Angeline said. “I’m pretty damn sure.”

 

And he kissed her again.

 

***

 

Kane was on his stomach, his legs held apart by meaty hands. Suddenly, a sharp whistle hit the shower.

 

“Not him,” a voice said.

 

Kane was able to lift his head to see a muscled black man pointing down the hall.

 

“Kiddie fucker is in the next stall.”

 

Water sloshed all around, into his mouth, down his nose. When Kane was finally on his own, he struggled to his knees and listened without sympathy to the violation of the pedophile. Raping babies. It was a crime. It was depraved and disgusting. No excuse.

 

But some crimes had one.

 

***

 

“My dad’s worse today,” Angeline said as she entered his apartment. She was more nervous these days, and when Kane told her that they would figure something out, Angeline always relaxed into him and nodded.

BOOK: Baller: A Bad Boy Romance
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