Daddy's Game Page 13

She rested fists on her hips. “What are you doing in there? You know the doctor said you weren’t supposed to be putting any weight on that leg!”

  “I’m not, Mamma.”

  “Well, that’s not what it looks like to me,” she huffed.

  “It’s fine. The water gives me the resistance I need, but it also keeps the leg floating, with no pressure on it, like a zero gravity thing.”

  “This is all Jack’s idea, isn’t it?” Her mouth pinched up at the word ‘Jack.’

  “Mamma, I don’t know why you are so down on him. He’s trying to help me get back to playing football.”

  “Too fast. He’s reckless. He’s not worried about you like I am. That man only wants a paycheck.”

  “Mamma, that’s not fair.”

  “Hmph!”

  “Mamma, sit down. We gotta talk.”

  Frowning, she pulled one of the chaise lounges closer to the pool and sat down. “What do you mean, Natron? What’s wrong?”

  “Mamma, I appreciate everything you have been doing for me. You’ve been great, and I love you from the bottom of my heart.”

  She crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “But?” she said, an ‘oh-no-you-did-not’ look on her face.

  “But soon it will be time for you to go back home.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, at the end of the week I’m going in for my next x-ray and if they let me put weight on it like I’m hoping, then Jack and I are going to be hitting the rehab hard. I’ll be able to walk pretty soon after that and I won’t need you to be here anymore.”

  “Well, that’s a fine thank you. You won’t need me anymore,” she snorted.

  He looked at her with as much love as a boy can have for his mamma. “I love you, and I am grateful for all your help, but I’m a grown man and it won’t do for me to be seen as a mamma’s boy. I have to stand on my own two feet… As soon as they tell me I can stand.”

  Veronique was quiet for a while, then brushed a tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry, Natron. I’ve clearly outstayed my welcome.”

  “It’s not that, but you’re making things harder on the people around me. You haven’t been very accepting of Carmen, and now you’re fighting with everything Jack says. All that makes the environment very stressful. And what I need right now is peace and support.”

  She sighed. “You’re right. I’m not doing too well with all these other people in your life. I feel like I’m being squeezed out.”

  “That’s exactly what Carmen said.”

  “She did?” Veronique seemed surprised.

  “Yes, Mamma. She’s my girl. Probably the future mother of my future children, and you’ve treated us like high-schoolers. She’s here to stay, so you’re just going to have to accept that.”

  “Well, I didn’t know you were serious about her.” Veronique touched her hand to her chest defensively. “I thought she was just another gold-digger.”

  “She’s the opposite of a gold-digger. Carmen is down to earth. She has her own career. And if she only loved me for what I could do for her, why would she be standing by me now?”

  Veronique shrugged. “I don’t know, Natron. I didn’t realize…”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Well, I’ll pack my things and leave whenever you want me to.”

  “Hey, not right away. I just want you to start thinking about it, because once that doc gives me the go-ahead, I’m going to be getting really busy around here prepping to get back out there on that field.”

  “Alright,” Veronique smiled wanly and reached down to pat his cheek. “Sometimes I guess I forget you’re not my little boy anymore. You’re all grown up now.”

  “I know, Mamma. I know.”

  * * *

  Ten days later, Dr. Whitaker informed Natron that his bones had healed well enough for him to be able to put light pressure, fifty pounds worth, on his leg. The news that his bones had healed so rapidly increased Natron’s belief that he would be back to playing football this season. After all, he was almost a month ahead of schedule for his recovery.

  The doctor’s instructions launched Natron on a strenuous daily exercise regimen with the team trainers in addition to the workouts he already did twice a day with Jack. The Vipers’ facility had a machine that could determine exactly how much pressure he was putting on his knee while he worked it. It was important he not put more than the fifty pounds on it or the bone could split again at a weak point. And while Natron knew better than to push how much weight he bore on his left leg, he had no intention on training lightly in any of the other areas.

  He’d been working his core so hard that he had an eight-pack. Not only did it make Carmen even hotter for him, but it helped him stay in shape so it would be easier coming back to football. In fact, his core was not the only area in which he’d improved. Because he’d been so limited in his weightlifting ability with his legs the past two months, he had drastically improved his upper body strength. Before his injury he was bench pressing 365. Now he could bench a solid 415.

  Once Carmen had teased him about bulking up his upper body, saying he was overcompensating. He agreed that was exactly what he was doing, and he explained that more upper arm strength would help him be able to push away defenders when they tried to jam him up off the line, allowing him to run his route unencumbered. He would also be in a better position to pull the ball away from a defender. Another player might be able to get their hands on the ball, but with the strength he had now, he’d be the one coming down with it.

  Two weeks later, an x-ray showed that Natron was ready to put 100% pressure on his leg and go full bore into massive rehab. His left leg had suffered a fair amount of muscle atrophy even with the electroshock therapy. He launched into a daily three-hour workout with the Vipers’ team trainers in addition to the two-hour workouts he did with Jack for his upper body and his good leg. They also added another hour to work his weak leg.

  One morning Natron was preparing to head over to the team facility for his daily workout with team trainers, when he caught the reporters on ESPN talking about Marvin Stalcup.

  “They are just as good a team with Stalcup as they were with Dakers,” a heavyset commentator said.

  “You mean to say, you think Stalcup’s as good as Dakers was last year when he was MVP?” The other commentator was Hall of Fame wide receiver Jerry Rice.

  “I’m not saying he’s as good, I’m just saying they don’t seem to be missing Dakers. Stalcup has replaced him on the team. The guy is second in the league right now in total receiving yards, Jerry. You can’t argue with that.”

  Natron clicked the television off. What the hell did they know? If Stalcup had 800 yards, Natron would have had 1,000 yards by this point had he been playing.

  Angrily, he kicked a football that lay on the floor before storming out the door.

  In the car, he made a point to listen to music instead of more jackasses with an opinion. He cranked up some hardcore rap tunes and lost himself in the heavy beat.

  When he entered the facility, Stalcup was the first person he saw.

  “Hey, man.” Stalcup raised a hand and Natron took it, giving him a bro handshake. “What’s up? Good to see you back.”

  Natron nodded. “‘Sup?”

  “Not much. Killin’ it out there on the field. Can’t wait to get you back out there. Two of us? We’ll be unstoppable.” Stalcup raised his chin and tilted his head back, camaraderie laced with arrogance.

  “Yeah, dog. That’s it.” Natron said, cognizant it wasn’t Marvin’s fault they were in this situation. If Natron were in his shoes, he’d take advantage of the opportunity too.

  “Aaiight. See ya then,” Marvin said, then sauntered out of the building with the confidence Natron realized he no longer had. Anxiety gripped him and his blood ran cold as if fear had just pinched him in the shoulder.

  You can do this. Hell, you’re going to come back better than ever.

  Natron waltzed into the workout room and spied Bill, the trainer assig
ned to him. They acknowledged each other, Natron lay down on the table, and Bill began working on his knee, stretching it, straightening it, warming it up for the workout to come.

  “So, Bill, whatchu think about me comin’ back so soon?” Natron said in a relaxed tone. This was the easiest part of his physical therapy.

  Bill gave him a puzzled stare.

  “What? I’m a month ahead of schedule, dog. I’ll be back on that field catching balls in the playoffs.”

  Bill sputtered, shaking his head.

  “What? You don’t believe me?” Natron’s fingers twitched with agitation.

  “It’s not that, Natron. It’s just… well, it’s a long way from the doctor telling you that you can walk on your leg again to getting back into the kind of condition you need to be in to play.”

  “I’ve been staying in shape, Bill. My cardio’s not that off. I’ve been swimming, keeping it up, ya know?” Natron heard the pleading note in his voice and it made him nauseous.

  “Yeah, but stamina isn’t the biggest issue. It’s going to be the knee, making those cuts. How much cartilage damage that’s been done.” Bill set Natron’s leg on the table and leveled a serious look at him. “Don’t overdo it, Natron, and give yourself a break. No one expects you to be back this season.”

  A rough breath escaped Natron’s lungs. “You mean ‘cause Stalcup is tearing it up.”

  Bill shrugged. “I mean because you’re human.”

  Then he helped Natron onto the treadmill and they got down to business.

  * * *

  After his training session, Natron’s mood had gone from irritable to foul. Instead of going home for a healthy lunch made by his chef, he called up an old buddy of his, Clarence, and they hit a local strip joint.

  Natron had stopped hanging around with Clarence once he and Carmen had become a couple, but in his stormy frame of mind, knocking back a few drinks with a friend who wouldn’t judge him seemed just the thing he needed.

  Thrilled to hear from Natron, Clarence made a big show of getting them a VIP table up front.

  Natron could not have cared less about the women. They looked great, but sex was the last thing on his mind. He would have gone to a sports bar, but he knew it would only depress him further to look up and see Marvin on the big screen, the commentators talking about how great he was. What did Marvin have that he didn’t? When he was healthy… He’d been quicker, more explosive, and hell, he’d had endorsements coming out of his ears. Not to mention a gorgeous, talented woman by his side supporting him all the way. Now that was something Marvin didn’t have.

  Ordering a whiskey sour, he gave the scantily clad waitress his credit card and told her to open a tab. Clarence succeeded in cheering him up, regaling him with some crazy guys-night-out stories.

  Clarence worked as a security guard for a bank now, but he and Natron had met when he was working for the Vipers organization. He told Natron a story about a guy who had robbed their bank recently. The guy had written the note telling the clerk to hand over the money. The funny part was he’d written it on a pad of paper from the hotel he was staying at half-a-mile away, making it almost too easy for the cops to pick him up an hour later at the hotel.

  “Man, that guy’s too dumb to be walkin’ around,” Natron said and they laughed until their sides hurt.

  After a few rounds, some of the girls had recognized Natron and were beginning to get a little too friendly.

  “Come back and I’ll give you a lap dance you’ll never forget,” promised a blonde with a pixie haircut and small tits.

  “See me after and I’ll take you to paradise, brown sugar,” a buxom brunette said, touching a well-manicured fingertip to his lips.

  Natron didn’t mind the attention and he appreciated beautiful, naked women, but he wasn’t in the mood. The last thing he needed was another person with their hand out wondering what good ole Natron could do for them. He had nothing left to give today. His chest tightened and it felt like a crowd of people were standing on him, making it impossible to breathe.

  Then a gorgeous chocolate Nubian princess came out and did her gyrating right in front of him. At the end of her dance she taunted him. “C’mon, big boy. Let Mamma treat you right,” she said, smashing her jugs together and making a lewd movement with her tongue. When that didn’t get the response she was looking for, she turned around and bent over, giving him a view of her goodies that left nothing to the imagination.

  The ‘Mamma’ reference was bad enough with all he’d been dealing with regarding his own mother, but the blatant pussy in the face was more than he was looking for. The situation was escalating and he didn’t want to be a part of it getting worse. He loved Carmen, and cheap sex wasn’t going to do anything to solve his problems. It would probably only add to them.

  “I need some fresh air. Let’s get out of here,” Natron said.

  “You got it, chief. We may need a ride. Want me to call a cab?” Clarence asked, standing up to get their waitress so they could cash out.

  “Naw. I’ll call Carmen to come get us.”

  “Carmen? You sure? She might not like it that you’re here.”

  Natron waved his concern away. “Babygirl’s cool. She won’t care.” He stood up and walked outside to make the call.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You’re where?”

  Carmen had stepped out of the shower to find she’d missed two calls from Natron. She’d giggled. He always had this kind of naked radar and called when she was undressed.

  Her towel fell to the floor and she looked at the phone. The Booby Trap? What the hell?

  “Sure, I’ll come get you,” she said through gritted teeth and hung up.

  She shook her head and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, then hurried out to her car.

  Hands gripping the steering wheel, she wondered why Natron felt the need to go to a strip club. Wasn’t their sex life satisfactory? Hell, she thought it was great, beyond great. Beyond anything she could have imagined prior to meeting him.

  Perhaps he didn’t feel the same way. Or he was getting bored with her. Was that it? He was looking for someone new?

  She shook off these notions. A strip club wasn’t where Natron would pick up women. Being a professional athlete, he’d be too scared of gold-diggers, those kind of women who held semen in their mouths so they could later spit it in a cup and try to get themselves pregnant by an athlete—the biggest payoff they were likely to see. Plus, if he was cheating, she doubted he’d ask her to pick him up from the scene of the crime.

  There had to be some other explanation. Maybe one of his buddies wanted to go, was getting married or something. Now that was a scenario that made sense. Come to think of it, Natron’s voice had sounded a bit slurred over the phone.

  A bright pink and purple neon sign of a naked girl served as an easy landmark, and she pulled into the parking lot.

  Natron and Clarence appeared out of the shadows. Natron gave her a quick kiss through the window and asked Carmen if she could give Clarence a ride home.

  She agreed and the ride to Clarence’s was a quiet one. When he got out of the car, Clarence made a big point to tell Natron to stay in touch. “Don’t be such a stranger.” Natron agreed and clapped him on the shoulder.

  Once they were alone, Carmen inquired, “Where do you want me to take you?”

  Natron’s gaze was fixed on his phone. “Oh, crap. Jack’s been looking for me.”

  “Do you need to go home and work out with Jack?” He reeked of booze and seemed to have had several drinks. It didn’t seem the best time to work out to her, but her experience with working out was limited to going up and down the stairs in her loft, so she kept quiet. Let the professionals figure that one out.

  “I was supposed to,” he sighed, the smell of booze assaulting her nostrils.

  “What happened?” she asked, purposely leaving her question open-ended.

  “Had a rough day is all,” he grumbled.

  “So you went out and
got drunk? Anyway, I need to know where I’m taking you.”

  “Your place.”

  “You want to go to my place? What about Jack?”

  “Jack can go fuck himself.”

  She took a right at the next light, pointing her vehicle in the direction of her loft. “So Jack’s who’s got you in this mood?”

  “No. I just texted him back anyway. We can get back on schedule tomorrow. I mean, I’m payin’ the guy regardless if we work out today.”

  She nodded, hoping he would tell her what was wrong once he felt like it.

  Natron sat silent for the remainder of the ride home.

  Carmen looked over once and he’d closed his eyes. Her temples throbbed and she could almost feel the hangover he would soon be getting.

  They arrived at her apartment and she offered him some coffee. When he declined, she fixed him a glass of ice water and urged him to drink it.

  He downed half of it and sent her upstairs, ordering her to get naked.

  She stripped off her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Tidiness was the last thing on her mind. Something in her gut told her tonight was going to be anything but tidy. No, tonight had messy written all over it.

  Grunts and heavy breathing echoed up the stairs, giving away the fact that it was hard for him to climb the stairs in his current physical state.

  After he’d hauled himself up the stairs on basically one leg, he limped into her closet, winded.

  He returned with one of her belts. It was leather with a heavy gold buckle. He turned it over in his hands, examining the leather, considering how he would use it on her.

  Terror coursed through her blood. “Please, don’t use the buckle, Daddy,” she pleaded.

  “Shut up and lie down on the bed,” he growled. “On your stomach.”

  He won’t use the buckle. He wouldn’t do that, she told herself as she lay down.

  “Spread your legs more,” he said and gave the belt a test shot on her upper thigh.

  “Eeek! Daddy!” she hollered.

  “Okay, I’ll stick to your ass,” he grumbled.