Page 11 of The Need to Know

To betray your own father was to smite your name. Pops was good to me. He was just sentimental, kind, and a romantic. In his own way, he was looking out for me, thinking he held my best interests at heart. Love wasn’t missing in my life. Power was.

I tucked in my silky’s cape, accepting Pops’s word and deciding to wait.

“AHHHH!”

A child’s squeal screeched through the large gym, bouncing off the walls, drawing notice to the woman who had brought in a couple of her kids with her.

I winced at the sound; annoyance quick to take over. The only reason I didn’t say anything, was because I knew not all parents could afford childcare.

I dug into my shorts for my earbuds as I glanced over at the commotion. That’s when I saw her.

The mom was embarrassed as she tried to round up her troop, but her youngest, a toddler, was just calming down as another woman was handing over a fuzzy rabbit, smiling and waving as she did so.

Big, silky hair framed her face and brushed past her shoulders. She was in matching workout gear. A sports bra and yoga shorts. Bright orange, or maybe salmon, a neon beacon calling my attention to her. Her golden-brown complexion was complemented by this color, too.

“Check out Little Miss Humble,” Cesar joked as he also watched the exchange.

His words barely registered. I couldn’t tear my eyes off her. Her sports bra offered a nice amount of cleavage, but I was stuck on them shorts, shorts that were graciously hugging her hips.

Ass? Breasts? I wasn’t picky about either, just as long as I had something to grab. One thing though, I was definitely a leg man. Had been ever since watching Salma Hayek shove her foot in Quentin Tarantino’s mouth and pour whiskey down her leg in From Dusk Till Dawn—or really it was the snake dance prior where she was wiggling those natural hips and was just. All. Legs. It was my awakening.

I loved me some nice legs.

This woman, this Pretty Young Thing, wasn’t that tall, but in those shorts of hers she was legs, and I had to angle my head to examine the curve of them.

“Yeah.” I stroked my jaw, watching the PYT walk off. “I think I want a slice of humble pie.”

Cesar cracked a smile. “Yo, only you, man.”

He plugged in his earbuds and was ready to get lost in his workout. I should’ve joined in, seeing how women were a problem for me and all, but something drove me across the room where Miss PYT was reaching up and pulling all that hair into a ponytail.

“Excuse me,” I spoke up to gain her attention.

She turned, lowering her arms, at first alarmed to see me out of nowhere.

Up close, I towered over her easily by a whole foot I was sure. I really admired the way the material of her sports bra and shorts embraced her slender figure. On the right side of her collarbone was a tattoo. Even with the strap of her bra, I could make out the words Under the Cherry Moon embedded in a fine cursive script. It was both a Prince song and a film he’d starred in.

Fascinating.

It was rude to stare, so I focused on her eyes. “Hey⁠—”

Her full lips were marring in a frown. “I’m sorry, but no.”

I hadn’t asked her anything. “No?”

“Yeah, I’m not interested,” she shot back. “So no.”

She was on the offense, her stance ready to attack if need be. She was mad as shit, and not at me, but I could take a hint. One look at her pretty face was a glimpse of pure anger. Her dark eyes held fire in them, and I wasn’t trying to get burned for a crime I hadn’t committed.

I could handle rejection, so I held my hands up and backed off. “I’m sorry.”

Cesar was lifting when I got back to the weights. He took one look at me and another in Miss PYT’s direction and shook his head.

If he only knew.

After talking to Regina, talking to Cesar, and hitting the iron pretty hard, I did feel better. Better enough that I knew I wouldn’t go against my father. Regina was right, I was loyal, and I did love him dearly. Going against the grain like that, it would disrupt our relationship, and I wasn’t sure if he’d forgive me. Even if I didn’t stab him back and work with Tee, taking all his employees for my own establishment would hurt him just enough.

Then there was my mother. Hurting him would hurt her, and I could never hurt her.