Page 22 of Love Me Now: Adrian & Kwamé
“Yes. You need me there wit’ you, and I’m not letting you go by ya’self.”
Just that quickly, some of the nerves taking over my body mellowed. Then, I remembered I had to face Damon Brooks. If I never had to do that again for the rest of my life, I would’ve been a happy woman.
Just two hours later, on the ride to Atlanta, I received a text from Dr. Lewis.
Dr. Lewis:DeAnna didn’t make it.
My heart broke for DeAnna. I hoped whoever hurt her faced the worst kind of death for what they did.
CHAPTER 9
ADRIAN
KwaméandItookour seats, and for the first time, Kwamé didn’t seem so nervous. Twenty minutes later, the players took the court, and I was salty as hell that the first person Damon sought out was Kwamé. He looked dead at her and grinned like she was his woman. I peeped him wanting to walk over, but his eyes bounced to my hand holding Kwamé’s, and he changed his stride.
His wife sat courtside, looking like money and smelling like it too. Too bad the look on her face said she wanted to be anywhere but here. She glanced at me and Kwamé, then smiled. Her eyesdrifted to Jessie and stayed for a second too long. Her smile slowly faded, but she played off her curiosity by turning her attention back to the court.
Kwamé’s hand was tucked in mine, and her grip tightened some as she avoided Damon’s eye contact.
Leaning over, I kissed her ear, causing her to blush and giggle. “I can’t wait to get you back to the penthouse.” She blushed even more, giving me exactly what I wanted. “Everything’s aight,” I assured her.
“I know,” she replied. Her shoulders relaxed and so did the lines etched in her forehead. As if speaking it, she truly believed that everything was okay.
We made it through the first half without any issues arising. If Damon was torn up about DeAnna, his demeanor didn’t give it. He was putting his heart on the court tonight, much like he did every game. To say that he wasn’t a star would be a lie. Up close and personal, that nigga was as much of a beast in person as he was on the television.
The fact that he was Jessie’s father and that he didn’t even acknowledge her both angered me and made me breathe a sigh of relief. Never would I step in the way of a man raising his kid. However, Jessie… She was different. The bond I had with her was too strong for any nigga to come between, whether he was her sperm donor or not. So, when he didn’t acknowledge her, it made me feel like there was no competition when it came to her.
Then again, in my eyes, a nigga who didn’t acknowledge his own child was as good as fuck boy. I was raised to take care of any child I brought into the world, and there would never be a question about my kids having everything they wanted. Jessie deserved the world, and I was the one who was going to give it to her despite me not being her biological father.
Throughout the second half, I noticed how much more Damon’s attention strayed to Kwamé. Kwamé remained chill,though. The anxiety she had about being here had dissipated, and I knew it was because I was by her side.
Afterthegame,Kwaméwaited inside the team’s conference room until the players received the announcement about DeAnna. As expected, many of the players took it hard. While Jessie and I waited in the lobby, I watched as group after group filed out of the conference room. Kwamé’s patience was on another level because she took her time with each group.
Two hours later, she came out of the conference room. Exhaustion was written all over her face, and I could tell that the mini sessions had taken a toll on her. Noticeably, I never saw Damon come in or out of the conference room area. That was cool with me. I didn’t want his ass ten feet from my woman without me present.
I took Kwamé’s hand and led her out of the building. Russ opened the Suburban’s door for Kwamé while I buckled Jessie into her seat. It was late, and she was starting to get a little fussy. Kwamé kept her face to the window, and occasionally, she would sigh. Heaviness was all over her. I wanted to relieve her of the burdens she felt.
By the time we made it to the hotel, I had arranged for dinner to be delivered. Kwamé gave Jessie a bath while I prepared our plates.
Dinner was quiet except for Jessie’s occasional offering of food. She gave me most of her broccoli but ate everything else. Her innocent actions brought humor to Kwamé’s eyes, so I was satisfied.
Shortly after dinner, Kwamé put Jessie down. Baby girl practically fell inside the playpen she was so damn tired. Iunpacked Kwamé and I some clothes to get ready for a shower. She was beat, and I was ready to crawl next to her. Shit, if all I did was rub on her ass tonight, that was cool with me.
Kwamé’s phone rang, and she immediately groaned. If duty was about to pull her away from me and Jessie, a nigga would’ve been salty as fuck.
She answered the phone on speaker, “Hello?”
“So, you had my baby and wasn’t gon’ tell me?” the dude on the other end said.
Kwamé’s hand shook, and she stared at the phone like it was a snake. Calmly, I took the phone from her and mentally catalogued the unsaved number.
“Who is this?” I questioned just to be sure.
“Damon Brooks, nigga. You the nigga that was holding my daughter?”
“Mydaughter,” I clarified even as my blood boiled.
Damon chuckled. “That’s my fuckin’ baby, nigga.”
