Free Motown Throwdown by K.S. Adkins Page A

part where I said I just got out of prison? Or you cool with your daughter hanging out with a convicted rapist?”
    “So much anger,” Peter comments absently. “Our daughter is a good judge of character and convicted doesn’t always mean guilty, does it son?”
    “Kandace never believed it and neither did we,” says Dick winking at his daughter. “She followed your trial and felt you didn’t have a strong enough defense. Being attorneys, we had to agree, Kandace even tried to---“
    “Dad please, no.” she whispers with pleading eyes.
    “You tried to what Kandace?” I accidently growled. Fuck, I didn’t mean to but she was constantly throwing me for loops.
    “I might have petitioned for Peter to take over your defense but---“
    “That was you?” I let out on a huge exhale. I remember getting a letter from an attorney asking me if I wanted new representation pro bono but, I figured I was fucked no matter which I went with and threw the letter away. “Were you there when I was sentenced?”
    “Guilty,” she shrugs dropping her eyes to her hands.
    It didn’t take a genius to pick up on my discomfort and Peter was the first to change the subject. “Did you toss the ball in prison?”
    “No.” It was abrupt and I knew it but I still couldn’t believe she showed. I was too afraid, ashamed to turn around in that court room. I didn’t want my grandma to see how scared I was so I faced forward, always.
    “Would you like to toss it now?”
    “Boy time!” says Dick jumping up. “Kandy girl, grab us some water while we show this boy how it’s done around here.”
    “I don’t want to play football,” I growl.
    “Yes you do,” says Peter. “It’s written all over your face.”
    Fuck, okay so I did want to play football but I was in no condition to play football. “If I play, I could hurt you.”
    “If you say so,” Dick says laughing not threatened at all.
    “I’m more worried about Kandy girl’s sacks than yours, she’s mean.”
    “Uh, guys?” she says waving her arms. “Rome just got out of the hospital this morning. He was my emergency and he’s working through a bruised lung. Rain check on the big game.”
    “Oh fine,” Peter pouts. “If we can’t play one let’s watch one.”
    So that’s what we did, for hours. With her sitting next to me calling plays and screaming at the refs, it was the best day I’d had in ten years. Even when I fell asleep, she covered me up but never stopped screaming at the TV. I was used to noise when I slept, inside it was never quiet and her voice calmed me enough that I slept deep and without fear.
    But that was only because she was close by.
     

“Don’t you sleep?” he asks sliding his coffee over to me.
    “When time permits,” I mumble taking the lid off to steal a sip.
    Attempting to slide it back to him, his hand covers mine and he whispers, “keep it.” The contrast of our skin was beautiful and obvious. I couldn’t help but notice his hand was soft which was at odds with the football player.
    “You’ve got bags under your eyes, Teach,” he says using his thumb to push on the swollen pocket.
    “I know,” I mutter slightly embarrassed. It was sweet that he thought enough of me to care about my lack of sleep. But this was Roman and I really should have known better.
    “It makes you look used up.”
    “Thanks for noticing my flaws,” I snap. Unfortunately outside of a mean tongue he didn’t have any visible flaws. “It’s too bad we can’t see past the surface to see what’s inside.”
    “The hell does that mean?”
    “I may look like shit on the outside,” I growl standing up and packing my bag. “But I am fucking gorgeous on the inside but I can’t say the same for you.”
    He slept hard.
    Helping them make dinner, we caught up on life and work. I was careful when talking about Rome and I because it was new and undefined. No matter what I share with them they never judge, they kept an open mind. If I had my eye on