Page 22 of Cause When You Love Someone

“You’re drooling, Ishmael.” She flirted when she reached the party bus.

“Have you seen what you look like? I can’t help myself.” I stepped closer and peered down at her. “Don’t get nobody in trouble tonight.”

Clarke playfully rolled her eyes, then joined her friends.

If anyone questioned Clarke’s influence, the crowd of people littering the club’s entrance demolished the doubt. As I opened the door for the ladies, I noticed the other guards were already clearing a path.

Clarke’s entourage led the way, while she stayed at my side. I tried to maintain a firm stance, but a small smile broke through while listening to the crowd yell Clarke’s name.

In the midst of the chaos, a few folks started to get aggressive.

“Back up! Back up!” I warned them. “Give us some space.”

The bass in my voice triggered Clarke to squeeze my hand. The thought that she felt unsafe made my body tense up. After a few minutes of maneuvering through the crowd, we entered the club and headed straight to the designated spot.

“Clarke! I’m so happy you made it!” The woman pulled her in for a hug. “I hope the ride over went smooth.”

“Natalie, everything has been amazing. The villa is breathtaking. I couldn’t ask for a better spot.”

The lady clapped. “That’s what I love to hear. Well, I have bottles and appetizers available for you and your friends. A host has been assigned to you. Let her know if you need anything else.”

I acted like a shadow in the cut while Clarke and her friends hyped up the club and threw back shots of liquor.

For almost two hours, they hopped on the mic and spit rap lyrics like they wrote and meant every word.

I never thought listening to a woman rap about guns and drugs could be so appealing, but I had to adjust myself when Clarke’s voice got me excited.

“Superman,” she slurred. “I want to dance.”

“You been dancing all night.”

She reached up and toyed with the end of my glasses. “Stop! You know what I mean. Take me downstairs.”

“There’s a lot of rowdy people downstairs.”

She poked the center of my chest. “Yeah, but that’s why you’re here. You won’t let anything happen to me.” She licked her lips. “Right?”

I gripped her hand and led her to the dancefloor.

“Come on, y’all. Clarke came downstairs to party with us. Let’s give her some space to show out!”

The partygoers took heed and gave us room to breathe. Though I bobbed my head to the music, I felt out of place.

“Stop standing there like a statue and dance with me.”

“I’m on duty,” I replied as a lady in all white twisted and bounced her ass against my leg. People nearby tried to hype me up to entertain her, but I turned my back.

“Don’t do her like that.” Clarke giggled. “You better catch it.”

“Stop playing. You would be okay with me dancing with another woman?”

She shrugged. “I don’t care about that. I know where you’re going at the end of the night.”

Drawn to her, my hand snaked around Clarke’s neck before I turned her around.

Her body moved so fluidly, I wished I had singles.

She didn’t rush her moves when she ground against me.

Every move she made seemed intentional. I held onto the ends of her dress when I noticed it creeping up, but nothing in the world could make me stop her from enjoying the moment.

“You actin’ up,” I muttered in an intimate tone.

“And I only had a few drinks. I think I just missed being close to you. Two weeks was too long.”

Before I could respond, I detected more attention on us.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I suggested.

Clarke nodded while I motioned to Anthony that we were going to the section. Unlike the last time, I walked behind Clarke since she took off before I could tuck her into my side.

“Clarke,” I called out, right as a small man with glossy skin blocked off her path.

In a swift motion, the stranger snatched the diamonds off Clarke’s neck. He turned to run out of the exit, but he didn’t get away before I yanked him back by his hood.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“Fuck you!” the man yelled before doing the worst thing you could do to somebody. He spat on me.

In unison, the crowd groaned as the fluid landed on the collar of my shirt. Logic escaped my body as I gripped his neck and slammed his head into the floor like it wasn’t made of bones. A voice in my head urged me to stop, but my hands kept going to work.

“Ishmael, that’s enough. Please. Stop!”

Most days, I prided myself on having self-control, yet the thought of a man playing with my woman and my manhood made me lose common sense.

After what felt like forever, the club’s security was the only ones who could pull me off the bitch boy. Reality and the night breeze hit me as they drug me outside, and I saw the blood covering my clothes.

By the time I caught my breath, Anthony and a few other guards came outside with Mrs. Rose marching behind them.

“Ishmael! Boy, you?—”

“You can stop now,” I interrupted her rant. “I’m not a boy. That’s what you and the clown in the club must’ve forgotten.”

I stepped around her when Clarke and her friends rushed out of the building. A panicked expression overpowered her face as she ran to the curb, then looked from side to side.

“Clarke!”

Her tense shoulders dropped before she raced over to me.

“Are you okay?” she asked, examining my face. “We need to get out of here.”

“No. You need to get out of here. I can’t run. If they want to charge me, they’ll put a warrant out for my arrest. I don’t want them coming to the house looking for me.”

“The one thing I tried to save you from is the one thing I led you into.” She sobbed.

“Don’t cry, pretty lady. That muthafucka spit on me. Beating his ass was self-defense.”

She nodded while swathing her arms around my midsection.

“Clarke!” her mother blurted. “We have to go. People are recording, and this isn’t a good look for your brand.”

Her head jerked back. “Fuck the brand! This is serious.”

I grabbed hold of her face, forcing her to look at me. “She’s right, Clarke. You have to leave before the police get here. Bad enough you’re on camera rubbing that ass on me.”

“But I’m a witness.”

“If they want your testimony, they’ll come find you.”

The sound of sirens made my heart slam against my chest. Things I had tucked in the dark part of my mind rose to the surface. At least this time, I was going to jail for something I did, and not for someone else’s crime.

Between narrowed eyes, I concentrated on the Jenga piece I placed at the top of the tower.

Anytime a book or being outdoors didn’t capture my worrisome mind, I pulled out a board game.

Jenga was typically a multiple-player game, but similar to chess, it didn’t require multiple players more than it required a sharp mind.

When my phone lit up, I placed it face down without looking at the screen.

Since I got released from jail, I stayed to myself.

Regret was the last word I would use to describe the way I felt about fighting on Clarke’s behalf, but still, I chose to lay low.

Not only had I put myself on the bad side of social services, but my mom had also caught a charge in the few days I was gone.

I took a swig from my glass of whiskey, then leaned forward to make a move, but a knock at my door caused me to freeze. I thought of putting on a shirt, but considering the person at my door showed up unannounced, I didn’t care to be courteous.

“Now, what the hell are you doing here?” I asked with a smile.

Clarke twisted her body from side to side and poked out her bottom lip. “I missed you. Plus, I wanted to give you these.”

I didn’t know how to feel about accepting the bouquet of long-stemmed roses. “These are for me?” I quizzed.

“Yes. After what happened in Vegas, I wanted to come see you and give you your flowers for being who you are to me. I know you’ve been in your head since the fight. I wanted to remind you you’re appreciated, Superman.”

My throat got tight as I listened to Clarke express her admiration for me. Thanks to my mom, I grew up believing I didn’t deserve praise for things I was supposed to do.

When I noticed Clarke tapping her heels against the ground, I examined her outfit. Red high heels made her look tall, and her trench coat made her look mysterious.

“You out here looking like a sexy Inspector Gadget.”

She giggled as she tugged on the belt of her coat. As the material came undone, I yanked her into the house.

“See, you walking around with no clothes on. I think you like seeing me in trouble.”

She pointed to the Jenga tower. “Jenga? You’re such an old head. I love it.”

I placed the flowers on the table and sat back in my spot on the couch. Like my lap had her name on it, Clarke straddled my waist and roped her arms around my neck. Her butter-soft skin melted against my fingers when I massaged her neck.

“Why does it seem like the devil is trying to stop something beautiful from forming?” she asked.

“God has a job to do, and so does the hater beneath us.”

She groaned. “First, the drama with Chaz, then the chaos in Vegas. Now, you have to go to court. Are we worth the trouble?”

“Don’t let the devil get ahold of your tongue,” I replied. “Give me the lips.”

The instant her tongue touched mine, I pulled her further into me. Whatever shampoo she used saturated my nostrils, and the way she held onto me made me moan into her mouth.

“Baby,” she broke away to mutter. “Would I be wrong if I decided to stop filming the show?”

“You already know the answer to that. Integrity is important. Don’t soil your reputation because of someone else’s warped thinking.”

“I don’t know how long I can deal with my mom. Since we got back from Vegas, she’s been worse. Plus, the blogs are making up their own stories.”

“But we know the truth, right?” She nodded. I squeezed her thigh. “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, baby. Yes!” Clarke giggled and squirmed in my hold.

Once she relaxed, I asked Clarke if she wanted to go bike riding.

“No, but I do want to learn how to ride your skateboard. I know they aren’t just mounted on the wall for nothing.”

A skeptical laugh skipped from my lips. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Though I only knew the basics, I got excited thinking of teaching Clarke something new.

“All right. I got you, pretty.” I abandoned my seat. “First, I need to find something for you to put on.”

“Oh. Superman’s going to dress me?”

“A lot of my clothes are too big for you, but I got some scissors you can put to use.”

She lifted a finger. “And a belt.”

“Yep, so I can whup your ass for coming out the house damn near naked.”

“I planned to give you some pussy, but that can wait until later.” She picked up my phone resting near her leg. “Your phone is vibrating.”

I checked the screen and didn’t hesitate to answer when I saw Durk calling.

“Yo!”

“Damn, nigga,” Durk grumbled. “About time you answered the phone. When are we making a move on your boy?”

My eyes raced to Clarke, who was staring dead at me. I thought to excuse myself before I continued the conversation, but I didn’t want to hide anything from her.

“I haven’t decided when, but the play is still in motion. There’s no way he’s getting away with that shit. But, hey, let me call you back.”

As soon as I ended the call, Clarke sucked her teeth.

“You cannot be fucking serious, Ishmael. You just got out of jail a week ago. Not to mention, you have a pending court case. Let that shit go.”

“No,” I replied evenly. “Men like Chaz don’t give up easy. Tell me he hasn’t threatened you since he left your house. Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll dead the issue.”

Clarke’s vision dropped to the floor.

“Exactly,” I blurted.

She shook her head while walking back to the couch. I watched her with a grimace as she put on her trench and grabbed her phone.

“Where are you going, Clarke?”

“I’m leaving. I doubted myself, but we aren’t good for each other.

Just like my mom, you don’t trust that I can take care of things in my life, and I’m sick of it.

” She gave me her back and marched to the door.

“We’ve blurred lines, and now, you’re ready to take a charge for me.

I can’t stand by while you do that. You’re fired, Ishmael. ”

“Fired from being your bodyguard, or are you dismissing me from your life altogether?”

“You have my address. Write me a letter when they send you upstate.”

“That shit ain’t funny.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Neither is you playing with your freedom for a nigga who doesn’t value his own.”

“This is some bullshit. If we had a daughter and a nigga put his hands on her, how would you expect the man who loves her to respond?”

“I get it, but . . . ”

My ego started to crumble as I thought that maybe she was trying to protect him. “You want to protect the man you love?”

“Yes, but you don’t seem to understand that.”