Love In the Red Zone (Connecticut Kings Book 1) (50 page)

That fucking declaration took my goddamn breath away. I was hers and she was mine. Someone wanted me with all of my flaws and dejected soul after my mother’s rejection. Someone wanted
me
. Not the world’s perception of me. I would live and die honoring this woman the way she deserved to be after having chosen me.

I ran to my ringing cell on the kitchen counter.

“Hello?”

“Jade, honey, how’s everything this evening?” I could sense my mother’s beam on the other end of the line.

“Mom,” I inhaled, surprised to hear from her. My regard automatically went to Kyree, sitting at the table, working on his homework. “Strange to hear from you at this hour.”

It was after seven at night. She never called this late, and when she did, it was typically about spending time with Kyree.

“I know dear. Just had you on my mind—”

“Hold on, Mom,” I interrupted her when I saw the new sitting bench with wool upholstery I ordered right before Trent and I set sail on the beautiful yacht.

It was definitely not on my radar when I originally designed the kitchen. I was excited about its inclusion into the motif, but uneasy about my impulsive purchase. Trent gave me budget line items per room. I hated going over the allotted amount, considering they were based on my estimations versus his willingness to shell out the cash. The man was frivolous, but still trusted me with the task of furnishing his mansion. It had been a long day and not the most pleasant one at that. No need for me to stress over the purchase. It was done, and nicely accented the white and heather gray cabinetry and cherry hardwood floors with a charcoal finish.

“I’m sorry.” I went back to my mother. “Now what was that?”

Time seemed to have sped up on the clock for Trent and me. And while I valued sharing the same clock with him, the frenzy that followed the weeks after the night he proposed thrust us into the hype of his returning celebrity. I’d gone down to Atlanta with the
N.B.P
., also known as
Nubian Beauty Products
, company. It was enlightening to say the least. The group was very informative and their presentation was professional. Their numbers and proposal seemed to have met the approval of Minnie Chew, a junior partner from Trent’s attorney’s law firm. But what concerned me were all the overt questions about my relationship with Trent. I hadn’t been dishonest when I confirmed we were engaged: I couldn’t when wearing the huge conspicuous ring he’d given me. But when they asked about the wedding date and other invasive questions while taking notes, something inside me that held out the last hope for my desire to get into the business had died.

“Oh, not much. I was just thinking about you guys.” There was a dreamy ring in her tone. “How are you handling the attention?”

“What attention?” I looked over Ky’s shoulder to be sure he was on par with his math homework. I’d missed him desperately during my unusual travel.

“Well...” she sang. “You
are
everywhere. I just turned off
Entertainment Tonight
. I’m sure you two are in conversation about how you’ll be handled in the public.”

As the shipping guy from the furniture store handed off a form for me to sign, I paused. “Come again.”

“There are photos of you and Trent on the yacht from last week. Also, a grainy video of Tren
t…
” she cleared her throat. “dancing with you in some nightclub in Connecticut. I’m happy to see you in love and with a man like Trent, but honey, I must caution you about discretion. The video was indecent and the photos were borderline with you in that scant bikini.”

There was that familiar ring of admonishment and scolding that would always haunt me no matter how long it’d been since she’d had that influence over me. But I froze at the aforementioned information.

“On television, as in a show?”

“Yes, dear. Your aunt Magness called and said it was on
TMZ
as well.” My heart jumped from my chest and my mouth went completely dry. This couldn’t be happening. “Next time, try for something more tasteful. I’m sure Trent would appreciate it for reasons such as this.”

“Ummmm...” I tried for polite words and came up with none after I signed and returned the clipboard back to the waiting gentlemen. “I’m an adult who’s mature enough to pack appropriately for a yacht vacation. Unless Trent had an issue with his fian
cé
e being dressed for his enticement during a romantic getaway he planned, I don’t see why I should have to feel self-conscious about it.”

“Fian
cé
e?” She gasped into the phone. I could imagine those greens morphing into the hue of dollar bills. “When did this happen?”

“The week before we left.” I finally thought to search for the bag where my laptop was stored.

She’d actually kept Kyree for me, taking him back and forth to school. Those two had forged a nice bond and I no longer had my guard up with her concerning him. The odd thing was
my
relationship with her. It was still awkward with me not trusting her, unable to forget who she used to be to me. How she never made me feel I was good enough. Tonight’s conversation confirmed that lingering feeling of inadequacy.

“This is amazing, honey! And now the world wants to know who you are!”

I felt my face contort painfully. “Why is that amazing? Why is it the world’s business to know who Trent is spending his life with?”

“What’s wrong with them knowing? You’re a special woman now. You’re going to be the wife of one who was once considered a fallen American hero, and now has a resounding story of redemption!”

She was caught up in her wonderment. Her storybook fairy tale of what my life should have been. It reminded me of how far from her grace I’d fallen and that although she was unaware, I’d been redeemed, but still not by her.  My mother had not changed. She was still that pretentious woman, forcing her agenda on me. This time she was nicer and more endearing with her push.

“Speaking of which,” she spoke with different inspiration. “Have you decided on a wedding date. I’d love to help you plan your big day. We could do a nice traditional, daytime production at our church or a romantic evening ceremony all at a posh facility like the country club.”

I pulled the phone from my ear and examined it as though it was my mother’s audacious face.

“Mother,” I highlighted my voice and hiked my brows. “Trent and I are happy during this glorious and celebratory occasion in our lives. We would appreciate your respect of our privacy as we continue to plan out the details of the remainder of our journey together.”

“Wh
y…
” she hesitated. “That sounds like a PR response to the public, Jade.”

“It is, mother. Other than Kyree and Trent, everyone else is the world at large that doesn’t matter. In fact, I need to get back to Kyree now. We’re doing homework.”

I was overwhelmingly anxious to get to the Internet, feeling an anxiety attack coming on.

“
O
-okay, Jade,” she sounded frazzled. “I hope you’ll have KyKy call me in a few days about the skating event he was invited to for next weekend.”

“Will do. He’s been chatting about it. Have a good night.”

There was a long pause before she uttered, “Good night.”

I disconnected the call and grabbed my laptop.

“Ky, you got it from here?” I asked about the set of problems he’d moved on to as he held his fingers in the air, counting with them.

When he nodded, I went into the dining room and lay the laptop out to start my search. Not even a minute into it, I saw countless blog posts, news reports, and mention of “
Jade Matthews: Trent Bailey’s professional beard or brazen lover?
” Several mentioned my occupation as a nail technician and me being a single mother, possibly looking for a come up. I slapped my gaping mouth then turned behind me to be sure Kyree hadn’t come into the room.

My mother was right: there were pictures—four in all—of Trent and me on the yacht, nuzzling, kissing, groping and fondling. It was only from one day, so I could map where we were. The focus was off and images not sharp, but Trent could easily be identified by his bulky and muscular frame and known tattoos. I was so grateful, expecting to see one of us having sex because that had taken place on the deck of the yacht several times, too. We had been engaged in full on lechery, believing we had the privacy to celebrate our engagement. 

After more clicks I found the grainy video of Trent dancing on my butt in the Connecticut club JJ took us to when I first met him. I knew Trent was having devilish fun feeling me up back there, but again, I thought nothing of it, believing we had privacy at first, then that no one cared. You could see me smiling while looking over the railing down at the partygoers on the main floor.

Suddenly I understood Trent’s adamancy about privacy. I got why he said it was easy to go underneath the radar when he was ready to a few months after being released from prison when I’d met him. These pictures were invasive, indecent, and horribly portrayed. I was a mother and I’m sure no one considered that before publishing them. And things regarding Kyree’s privacy made sense, too.  We were being exploited like we had no protection at all.

As I clicked away, I came across a
TMZ
headline that had been published just an hour ago about a woman claiming to have had a threesome with Trent and Brielle, the pop star. That rumor was as egregious as they came!
Trent and Brielle? How could they have been intimate without the world knowing?
Then I felt like a pawn people could use to fabricate any story of their choosing. I came across the line in the article where the reporter mentioned they’d seen pictures of this threesome and a short but clear video.

What in the world?

I collapsed back into the chair and felt my chest heave, feeling about to detach from my body. My head began to spin and air wasn’t coming in generously enough. This was too much. I tensed every muscle in my body to try and anchor myself from whatever was passing over me. I’d never experienced anything like this before.

The phone rang and I leaped and gaped at it as if it were an instrument of betrayal, too. When I saw Trent’s name I answered right away.

“Hello?” I breathed heavily into the phone.

“Hey, babe,” I heard the purposeful, slow cadence in his vocals. “I wanted to check in. Everything all good?”