Motown Throwdown (4 page)

It’s impossible to tell her no.

“Details,” she says checking out Kandace’s handy work.

“I saw her obviously,” I say pointing to my head.

“And? Did you score a date? Get a feelski?”

“She was called to emergency before I could ask,” I lie. Bottom line was I bitched out but I wasn’t telling her that. I also wasn’t sharing shit about who I used to be either.

“Did you punk out, Rome?”

“She’s really not coming back here,” I mumble like a kicked puppy.

“Well, I know how to fix that!” she says slapping me on the shoulder. “Meet me back here tomorrow after your shift, you’ll see her again, pinky promise.”

Nodding to her, I wonder how Jules would make the impossible happen. Had I pursued Kandace in college I had a feeling life would have taken a different turn for me. As in, I’d have had one.

While I was serving time she was saving lives. The woman was out of my league then and now, period. Proving myself to her wasn’t going to be cake, it would take work. After training in my basement to clear my head I walked over to the mirror to see what she sees. A pissed off twenty nine year old ex-con bouncing at a bar with no degree and no friends.

Yeah, she’d want me.

Grabbing a few hours of sleep, I ran errands, made it to work and when my shift was over, I met up with Jules like she requested. The second I saw her I knew I was in some deep shit because she was up to something. Jules was always up to something.

“Rome!” she says pulling Max behind her, “You ready for phase two?”

“Phase two?”

“Yeah, it’s the phase where I kick your ass in the name of love,” says Rogan coming around the corner. Now I’m a big guy, easily two of Rogan but his training came from the streets and until prison, my training was on a synthetic field. This guy knew underground shit. Seeing where Jules was going with this, I crossed my arms over my chest knowing I’d go through with it but also knowing it was going to hurt. This scenario sucked because I couldn’t fight back when my nature demanded I defend myself. But if it landed me back on her gurney, I’d do it.

“The second you swing at me it’s going to take everything I’ve got not to swing back,” I warn him. “I don’t think this is the way to go.”

“That’s where we come in,” says Tony standing next to Max. Perfect. Now I’ve got all the owners of Lush, minus Rafe and Venessa, in attendance.

“No one fights without video proof,” she says making her entrance holding her phone out. Christ, these people were crazy.

With Tony taking one arm and Max taking another, Rogan stands in front of me cracking his giant knuckles. “Ready!” says Venessa recording.

“How do you want this?” Rogan asks casually, not fazed about making me bleed in the slightest.

“My face,” I hated my face. I hated that women loved what it looked like but not about the man that wore it. Not her though, she used to like the guy underneath for some fucking reason. I was willing to do anything to get her to like me again. “Maybe a rib, too.”

He nods once but before I could take another breath he scores two direct hits to my face and a sledgehammer of a hit to my rib cage. Letting out a loud ‘oomph’ it takes both Tony and Max to hold me back. Right then, helping me or not, I wanted to kill the mother fucker. On the inside, I had three situations where I was held back to get beat on. Once I recovered, those mother fuckers got it even worse but, memories like that never go away.

“Easy,” says Max, calming me down.

“We good?” Rogan asks backing away looking proud of himself while Venessa cheers him on. Managing a nod was all I had in me. The guy hit like Holyfield and it was hard to remember to stay put, that this was a favor.

Walking over and looking up at me, Jules says, “Better go and get fixed up, better safe than septic. Tell the Doc we said hi.”

Even with my jaw and ribs screaming at me, I hustled over to Henry Ford to see Kandace.

Only Kandace.

She was the only one who could fix me, the only one allowed to touch me.

Friday night’s game was intense. Roman threw for a touchdown with three seconds left on the clock and when it registered that we’d won, the place went nuts. The crowd flooded the field and Trina and I were swept up in it. Homecoming was big here as I imagine it was at every university. Students and players were ecstatic with the win and finding him in the crowd his smile was brighter than all the lights in the stadium. I wanted to walk over, congratulate him, but I stopped myself because outside of the library, the few times I have seen him on campus, he ignored me.

When he saw me he didn’t return my wave or make an attempt to say hello. Instead, he picked a random girl (in a cheerleader’s uniform no less) up and had her ass in his hands. Trina let me know she was ready to go, so turning away we drove back to our place and that night I didn’t go to the homecoming bash.

I stayed inside, where I belonged.

Friday nights are always intense here. Slamming back my third cup of coffee, I check the board and was just about to head to my next case when the nurse-on-staff approaches. “Dr. Kane,” she whispers. “There’s a man named Roman demanding only you can treat him, what do you want me to do?”

Screaming on the inside like a twelve year old who scored One Direction tickets, I put on my medical face and instruct her to put him in ten. I needed him away from other patients so I could speak to him without an audience. Since he left yesterday, I kicked myself for not showing him that I was different now, stronger.

Pulling the curtain back my breath hitches as I take him in. My God, I can’t do this, he’s too beautiful, too real. He’s not that college guy anymore, he’s rugged, raw and I wanted to mount him right there on the gurney. For some reason he felt attainable to me now and I wanted him. With his hair close to his scalp in tight perfect braids, his goatee thin, sharp cheekbones and when he looked up... Those shocking crystal blue eyes, such a contradiction to the darkness of his skin. Skin I wanted to lick, large hands I wanted wrapped around my waist…

“Hello Kandace,” he says hesitantly. He says it like he’s afraid I’ll call for security but it’s the first time I’ve ever heard him say it at all. I went weak over it, willing to beg to hear it again.

“Hello Roman,” Taking a seat so I didn’t fall over, I ask him. “What happened to your face?”

“Hazard of the job, I guess.”

“The stitches look good but now your left eye is swelling and you appear to be favoring your side. Did someone drive you here?” I ask noticing a goose egg forming on his temple.

“I came alone.”

“Did you come this far out of your way on purpose?” I ask hoping he’ll say yes, that he had to see me.

“I wanted the best,” he says watching me. “Jules said you’re the best.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted to see you, Kandace.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I did. You made Tuesdays my favorite day and now you made Thursdays my favorite night. I don’t have anything to look forward to now.”

Grabbing a tray and cleaning his eye before icing it, I didn’t know what to say so I kept it professional. “Take your shirt off for me, please.” Turning around I was caught off guard when he had not only removed his shirt but sat there wearing only a smirk. If he was glorious in college it didn’t hold a candle to him now. Older, thicker all over and even more handsome than my mind could comprehend, I just couldn’t move.

Finally snapping me out of it he calls my name and still I was struck dumb. “Kandace,” he says smiling at my blatant full-body eye fuck.

“You’re still beautiful,” I whisper then guaranteed I turned eight shades of red. “I mean, you looked good back then but you look even better now.” Shit, not smooth! “I just meant I’ve never seen you without a shirt. That one time at the lake counts, maybe?” Oh God, this was worse…

“Kandace,” he says softly. “Do you remember some of the good times together?”

“I’m going to wrap your ribs and put a salve on your eye,” I sputter changing the subject. For years I wanted him to notice me and now he is and I can’t process it. Well that and he was being nice, sweet even. Past history proves after sweet comes total humiliation. I had no training for this.

“Are you afraid of me now?”

“No,” I say backing out of the room when I was finished.

“Then why are you running?”

“Because maybe for once, you should be afraid of me.”

“Why’s that?” he asks cocking his head to study me. Reaching for the cart, I grab the items needed to get him fixed and back in his car as quickly as possible. Ten years have passed but he’s still Roman and I’m still me, it would never work, even if I wanted it to.

“I dreamt of you, Kandace,” God, he really needed to stop saying my name. “All that time on the inside it was you I thought of. I worried about you, always wondered if one day you’d show. I don’t blame you for forgetting about me, I would have. But you told Jules we went to school together, not that you tutored me, why?”

Feeling myself getting angry because nothing stings like remembering that bullshit, I wipe his eye clean and tell him, “I tutored you for one year. Then the one time I mentioned it publicly you crucified me.”

“I know,” watching him wince at the reminder made my heart squeeze.

“Breathe normally,” I tell him as I begin wrapping his side. Knowing I would need another strip, I move away to get one when he gently takes my wrist.

“Breathing normally is impossible right now,” he says staring me down. “I looked forward to those sessions, to seeing you on campus. I did everything I could to see you, you knew that right? You were a good friend to me but I wanted---”

“Oh please,” I tell him laughing at the thought. “We weren’t friends, I was your punchline.”

“Clearly you have a good memory,” he mumbles. “Did you at least get paid for tutoring me?”

“Uh no,” I mumble in return. “You were arrested the week of finals before I could.” I still remember being questioned before his trial. The administration wanted to make sure I wasn’t one of his victims, it was horrible.

“Shit.”

“Look,” I tell him wanting to get this over with. “I’m surprised you remember anything about me because I was a bookworm not a cheerleader. Frankly, I don’t know why you bothered with me at all other than to laugh at my expense.”

“Christ, not remember? I remember everything. You made my senior year memorable, Kandace. We had fun together. Do you not remember the good at all? And why do you sound like you’re pissed at me?” he argues putting his shirt back on which was both sad and necessary.

“The good, huh? Ruining my dates? Making fun of me? Following me only to remind me of my status? You made my junior year hell, if memory serves. I don’t
sound
pissed, I
am
pissed. You made it impossible to be your friend. You refused to listen to anything I had to say,” I snap. “I tried to tell you she was dangerous but you wouldn’t hear it from someone like me. Wait what was it you said? Oh that’s right, you said---”

“Here we fucking go,” he says cutting me off. “God you used to nag the shit out of me. If it makes you feel any better, I had ten years to learn that lesson, doc, but thanks for the reminder.”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter feeling like shit. “It’s in the past. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s never been my business. I mean, you’ve never been my business.”

“Naw, you’re right. You were then, you are now. I wasn’t a good listener, didn’t have to be because I knew it all right?” he says opening the curtain. “You were always my business doc, I made sure of that. Seems to me you only remember the bad. But it wasn’t always bad, there were times…” he starts but then shakes his head. “I’ll wait out in the lobby for my discharge papers.”

Speechless, I stand there as he pushes past me in favor of the lobby. At least this time he didn’t humiliate me in front of a group; that was progress, right? If this was progress, it sucked.

“You’re better than them,” she says out of the blue. Every week she gives me shit about something. My friends, my partying, the notches I fucked and today it was my image. “Right now you’re the face of Wayne State, you’re an example you should set a good one.”