For Better or Worse (12 page)

Cassidy refrained from pointing out she
was almost fifty. “Janice, I really don’t want to do this. If you won’t take me
home, then at least let me use your phone so I can call a cab.”

Her friend’s jaw hardened. “I see it
now,” she said, placing a hand on her hip.

For a minute Cassidy thought she saw a
malevolent look in her eyes, but that couldn’t be right. Janice was her
friend—almost like a big sister or mother figure. “See what?”

“The spoiled little girl, the selfish
behavior you said you sometimes exhibit. I never noticed it before, but yes, I
see what you mean.”

The words cut especially deep because
they came from someone she cared about and respected.

“Fine, I’ll take you home, if that’s
what you want. How silly of me to expect you to show a little compassion and
think about someone else. Tonight is all about you, isn’t it? You can’t even
spare thirty minutes for a friend.”

Although she found the words upsetting,
Cassidy couldn’t deny Janice had dropped everything to come get her. She’d been
a good friend to her.

She swallowed back the hurt and looked over
her shoulder. Isaiah still stood nearby. He glanced up from signing his
autograph on a napkin for several hovering females to smile at her, and she
returned an uneasy one. She knew Isaiah had an interest in her, and she didn’t
want to encourage him. But if they didn’t stay very long . . .

“Thirty minutes,” she said to Janice.

“Yes!” Janice put her arm around
Cassidy. “Come on, honey. Let’s go before you change your mind.”

****

Antonio walked into Toxic, the newest club
to break onto the Atlanta night scene. All around him, gyrating bodies pumped
furiously. Over at one of the four bars, he spotted the owner, his friend
Jackson Cole, checking out the crowd, his head bouncing up and down in time to
the music. 

Because of his appearance, Jackson
intimidated people who didn’t know him well. A big black man with a bald head,
he stood head and shoulders above everyone else and carried a permanent scowl
on his face. He was the kind of man who caused old ladies to grab their purses
when they saw him coming and grown men to cross to the other side of the street
to avoid him.

Antonio greeted his friend with the “man
hug”—a combination of a handshake with one hand and a thump on the back with
the other.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Jackson
said. “Where have you been?”

“Busy with work,” Antonio answered.

Wall-to-wall patrons wound their way
through the dim interior. Green, yellow, and red lights flashed overhead,
adding to the festive atmosphere. High above the dance floor, four cages
suspended from the ceiling held women dressed like go-go dancers, whirling and
popping to the music.

Antonio took the open bottle of beer
Jackson offered and thanked him.

“You and the wife hanging out tonight,
huh?” Jackson asked.

He took two long drags on the bottle
before answering. “No, it’s just me tonight. I stopped in for a bit to see
Isaiah Sharif and his crew, and then I’m going home.” Even if he weren’t upset
about the situation with Cassidy, he wouldn’t have stayed. Clubs didn’t have
the same appeal they used to. He scrolled through his calls and texts for the
umpteenth time. Still nothing from Cassidy.

Jackson sent him a strange look. “What
do you mean? Cassidy’s
been
here.”

Antonio paused with the bottle halfway
to his mouth. “Cassidy?
My
wife?” He must be mistaken.

Jackson’s brow knotted into a frown.
“Yeah, I saw her earlier, and now she’s up in the Purple Rain Lounge with
Isaiah Sharif and the other players.” Antonio turned in the direction Jackson
indicated. “She—”

He didn’t hear the rest because he
dropped his beer on the bar with a crack and started moving through the throng
to the stairs.

At the roped entrance, he made a sweep
of the lounge. The large room gave the illusion of intimacy because it was
covered in a purple haze from the overhead lighting. It could be closed off by
long drapes tied apart that allowed patrons to stand at the railing and look
down at the partiers below.

Dancing groupies filled the lounge,
several of whom he recognized from other events. Seating that looked like one
giant sectional sofa ran along one wall, and above it, the word “Toxic” was spelled
out in all caps. Purple raindrops projected in the letters in a continuous
stream. Tables overflowed with refreshments, and guests hovered beside them,
tossing back drinks and noshing on gourmet food.

At first he thought Jackson was mistaken
that Cassidy was there, because at first glance, he didn’t see her among those
standing around or dancing. But as his gaze made a second sweep, he caught
sight of Janice in the middle of the floor with one of the players, twirling
and swinging her hips to a remixed version of an old hit, “Lights, Camera,
Action” by Mr. Cheeks. He hadn’t noticed her initially because her back had
been to him.

Then he saw Cassidy on a love seat with
Isaiah Sharif, both of them talking to two other males seated in individual
chairs. A table with a long, slender base sat between them. At the moment, she
faced Isaiah, so she couldn’t see Antonio.

He took a step forward, but had his path
blocked when a beefy hand hit him in the chest.

“You need a pass to get up in here,” a
deep voice said. The man in front of him, one of two bouncers, had the height
and width of a large boulder. He wore a pair of sunglasses so dark Antonio
couldn’t see his eyes.

He whipped out his wallet and showed the
pass Isaiah had given him last week. After examining it, the man lifted the
rope to allow Antonio in.

No one paid him much attention as he
started across the room, his eyes homing in on Cassidy’s crossed legs in the
itsy-bitsy dress she wore. It was one of his favorites, one he’d half jokingly,
half seriously told her she could only wear when she was with him.

The black material had a habit of
cupping her backside like a pair of hands, and despite her short height, the
black and gold stilettos she wore showed off her legs in such a way they made it
look like they went on for miles.

Possessive anger swelled inside him as
he watched Isaiah smiling down at his wife as they talked. Whatever he said was
pretty damn funny because Cassidy lifted her fingers to cover her mouth and
laughed. His eyes swung to the other two men. One was a teammate of Isaiah’s,
the other he didn’t recognize—probably one of many hangers-on. He openly watched
Cassidy’s legs like a hungry dog with a pork chop set on a platter before
him.  

Janice saw him first, and when she did,
her eyes widened and her dancing slowed to jerky, uncoordinated movements. She
glanced over her shoulder and opened her mouth to shout a warning to Cassidy
that never materialized when she realized Cassidy couldn’t hear her from that
distance.

He brushed past her, focused, intent on
his target.

“Glad you made it.” Isaiah stood up and
held out his hand in greeting, but Antonio didn’t even see it, oblivious to
everyone and everything but his wife.

Cassidy looked up then and took a silent
breath.

Her mouth opened to speak, but before
she could, he bit out one question. “What the
fuck
do you think you’re
doing?”

Chapter Eleven

“Whoa, Antonio, what the hell?” Isaiah
said.

When Cassidy’s gaze met her husband’s,
her heart jolted and almost came up through her throat. Red color was slashed
into his cheeks, and the hard set to his jaw made him look so intimidating she
almost bolted.

“What are you doing here?” was the only
thing she could think of to say.

“The real question is, what are you
doing here? We’re going home.” He lowered his head to speak into her ear. “You
have one second to get your narrow little ass up off that couch before I drag
you out of here.”

“You wouldn’t,” Cassidy responded,
unsure.

Stark anger filled the eyes that met
hers. “Try me.”

One of the men she’d been talking to
stood up to Antonio’s right. “Who do you think you are, man?” He spoke with
slurred speech, a clear indication he wasn’t thinking clearly, because anyone
could see antagonizing Antonio was a bad idea. “Maybe she’s having a good time
and don’t want to leave with you.”

His displeasure palpable, Antonio
straightened with a slow, fluid movement. A muscle in his jaw tightened. While
keeping his eyes on Cassidy, he addressed the meddler. “I suggest you mind your
own business.”

Cassidy stood on shaky feet, her eyes
pinned to his face. His gaze flicked down to the hem of her dress, which she
tried in vain to tug lower. His disapproving eyes followed the movement and
made her wish she hadn’t made the poor decision to put on the same dress she’d
planned to wear out with him.

“Wait a minute. What’s going on?”
Confusion filled Isaiah’s voice. Almost immediately, a moment of clarity hit
him. “Is this your husband?”

“Is this the ‘honey’ you planned to hook
up with tonight?” Antonio asked.

“No disrespect. I didn’t know.”

“Man, if she wants to stay, let her
stay. You go home,” the other guy said with drunken belligerence.

“Why don’t you be quiet?” Isaiah said to
his friend.

Antonio’s fists clenched at his side.
“Let’s go, Cass.” He was itching for a fight, but remained calm. Typical
Antonio.

“Bye, Brick,” she mumbled with downcast
eyes.

Antonio stepped aside so she could walk
in front of him.

“Man, why these bitches always come up
in the VIP with their drama?”

Oh no.

“Did you just call my wife a bitch?”

Before she even turned around, Cassidy
knew the outcome by the incredulous tone of her husband’s voice. The question
was really rhetorical, because the next thing she knew, from the corner of her
eye, she saw him land a blow to the guy’s mouth. He fell backward on top of the
small table, knocking it to the floor and spilling its contents of food and
champagne.

He landed on his back with a groan and
grimace, and Antonio followed.
“Say it again. Say
it,” he urged,
unleashing a vicious pounding on his face.
The man struggled, but Antonio’s reach was longer, and he
easily avoided his flailing arms, his punches landing as he held him down. 

Cassidy screamed for him to stop, but he
didn’t let up until Isaiah, one of the bouncers, and two players wrestled him
off and shoved him into another table, sending him and everything on it
crashing to the floor.

Holding high their drinks, guests
scattered out of the way. Cassidy, not knowing what to do, threw herself onto
Antonio to protect him. Even though she knew he could hold his own against
anyone, he was outnumbered. She couldn’t let them hurt her baby.

“Cassidy, get off of me,” Antonio
growled, struggling to sit up once he got his bearings.

“No.”
Her arms
tightened around his neck as
Isaiah and the others circled around them.
“Brick, please.”

The assaulted man had a busted lip and
clutched the side of his face. A slew of profanities came out of his mouth as
he jabbed his finger at Antonio and threatened to do all manner of bodily harm
to him.

Antonio struggled to get to his feet
with Cassidy still attached to him. His shirt was wet and stained in spots from
the food and beverages smeared all over him during his fall. She wrapped her
hands around the trunk of his body, knowing no one would dare take a swing at
him with her between them.

“Cassidy, get off of me. I’m serious.”
He reached around to pry away her arms.

She tightened her hold. “Stop it,
Antonio. Please.” Beseechingly, she looked up into his face, clutching his
shirt. Surely he could see how scared she was. She was trembling as she clung
to him, afraid they’d start fighting again. “Please.”

“Get out of here, Antonio,” Isaiah said.

Isaiah’s friend looked at
him in shock.
“What? You
gon’ let him leave after he attacked me?”

“We could take it outside if
you want,” Antonio said coolly.

“
You heard
him,” Isaiah said to his friend. “
You want a piece of him, take it
outside. We came here to party, not fight. Maybe next time you’ll think twice
about insulting a man’s wife.”

She felt the tension in Antonio’s body
ease somewhat. Gratefully, Cassidy mouthed a thank-you to Isaiah. He didn’t
reply, only looked at her with a hint of regret in his eyes.

Without another word, Antonio pressed
his hand to the base of her spine and propelled her toward the velvet rope with
the bouncer following close behind as if he thought Antonio might double back
and attack the guy again. The other guests shuffled out of the way, and Cassidy
only spared a quick glance at Janice on the way out.