The Game Never Ends Read online

  Tuesday didn’t press him about it because she wasn’t trying to spoil the mood. Instead, she tried to tempt her man with the one thing she knew had always been his weakness.

  The only bonus to gaining so much baby weight was that a lot of it had gone to her husband’s favorite places. Tuesday always had a fat ass but the pregnancy had basically given her a free butt augmentation without the surgery or silicone.

  Working out with Shaun had helped to shed the excess around her stomach while toning the addition to her hips and thighs. The result was a slender waist with an all-natural booty as plump and round as two basketballs: Marcus’s kryptonite.

  Her tight skirt accentuated her curves, and when she stood directly in front of him, she made a show of picking up her shoes by slowly bending over right in his face. Tuesday twerked a little bit and made her ass bounce like Jell-O.

  He smacked it. “You know you gone pay for that right?”

  “Whatever. Just read yo’ book, nerd.” Tuesday strutted off, putting plenty of extra swing in her hips. Before leaving the room, she looked back to catch him staring.

  Tuesday smiled to herself. She hoped she had just cut that twenty-minute wait in half.

  Chapter Four

  Upstairs, Tuesday stopped by the nursery to look in on her baby girl. Tanisha was sleeping peacefully with a thumb in her mouth. Physically Tuesday saw so much of herself and Marcus in their daughter; however, it amazed her that at two years, eleven months, Tanisha had already developed a personality distinct from either of theirs. Tuesday just watched her sleep for a while then tiptoed out through the minefield of toys scattered over the floor.

  Marcus had warned her to give Danielle some space, but Tuesday felt what she had to say couldn’t wait.

  Danielle’s room was heaven for a nine-year-old girl. She had an army of plush dolls and stuffed animals as well as a huge LCD television with an assortment of the latest games. In the corner was a six-foot play maze in the shape of a castle that Danielle could crawl into whenever she felt like playing princess. She also had a saltwater aquarium with tropical fish and a cage for her pet ferret.

  Growing up in Detroit, Tuesday had shared a bed with her mother for most of her childhood, and had to sleep on the couch whenever her mother had company, which was often. She didn’t get her own room until she was thirteen and it wasn’t a fraction of the size of Danielle’s. The only amenities were a twelve-inch black and white TV, a twin-sized bed supported by milk crates, and piss-stained sheets hanging as curtains. All she could claim for pets were the rats and roaches that came standard with every rundown flat her mother moved them to.

  Tuesday was happy that her daughters would never know the struggle but was also a little envious. She spoiled the girls as much as Marcus and sometimes worried over that.

  Danielle had a full-sized bed with pink lace and flouncing to continue the princess motif. She was lying on her stomach in her school uniform, hair split into twin pigtails with large spiral curls. Unlike her sibling, Danielle carried none of Tuesday’s or Marcus’s features. Each year Tuesday watched her grow into a more beautiful young lady, but one whose origins were a mystery.

  She studied from a tablet; next to it was a thick open textbook on spherical trigonometry. When Tuesday sat on her bed, Danielle turned and faced the wall.

  “Dani, I know I missed your competition tonight and I know you mad at me. I’m sorry if you feel like I let you down.”

  Danielle had always been a bright girl but about a year back her teachers observed an extremely high aptitude for science and mathematics, prompting Marcus to have her placed in advanced classes. She had become the star of her school’s academic team that competed against other prep schools in Jeopardy-style quiz battles.

  Tuesday continued: “But being mad don’t give you no excuse to disrespect me. The way you treated me downstairs wasn’t cool and I’m not havin’ that. D’you understand?”

  Danielle lay on the opposite side of the bed quiet and still. She seemed to be just waiting for Tuesday to leave.

  Tuesday didn’t appreciate being ignored. “Girl, you hear me talkin’ to you! You don’t get to disrespect me, Dani. Ever!” It was the fiercest tone she had ever taken with her stepdaughter. “Now tell me you understand!”

  Danielle never looked back at her. “I understand. I’m sorry, Tabitha.”

  That was a low blow and Tuesday felt it. A little more than three years back she had come into Danielle’s life as Tabitha Green, but they had long since crossed that bridge. One of the proudest days in Tuesday’s life was when Danielle had started calling her “Momma.” For her to revert to using “Tabitha” really stung Tuesday. Worse was that Danielle was smart enough to know this.

  To Tuesday, the room reflected the struggle of an immature little girl dealing with an adult-sized intellect. Above the plush toys and Barbie dolls were shelves holding books on Newtonian physics and college-level algebra.

  Pride wouldn’t allow Tuesday to show any pain. “Well congratulations on your win. I’m really proud of you.”

  When Danielle didn’t respond, Tuesday just slipped out of the room thinking perhaps that Marcus was right and she should’ve waited.

  Tuesday still couldn’t believe that in such a short period she had gone from never wanting children to not being able to imagine her life without them. It was Danielle who had changed Tuesday’s opinions about kids. At six, she had been so much more mature than her years, and the dedication Marcus showed her as a single parent was a big reason why Tuesday had fallen for him. The girl had made such an impression that Tuesday risked her own life to get Danielle back when she was kidnapped.

  It wasn’t long ago that she and Danielle were tight, but their relationship had slowly changed over the previous year. Danielle’s attitude had become more hostile, snapping at everybody, even her little sister. When her face wasn’t buried in a book, it was hard to get three words out of her.

  Tuesday noticed she changed around the same time Marcus put her in those advanced classes and didn’t think it was a coincidence. Danielle started coming home with more homework than Tuesday thought was suitable for a girl her age, and the shit was so complicated that Tuesday couldn’t help with it. She believed the pressure was too much. She shared her theory with Marcus, but he dismissed it as a phase.

  Tuesday often wondered about Danielle’s real parents and how she came to be with Marcus. She knew her husband well enough to know he didn’t adopt her through any legal means. Tuesday had heard a rumor involving the murder of his former friend, but Marcus never confirmed this and she never asked. Her husband was better than most at keeping secrets.

  Tuesday spent a half hour in the shower waiting for Marcus to join her but he never did. She left the master bathroom attached to their room expecting him to be on the bed waiting for her. When he wasn’t, Tuesday figured he was still downstairs pretending to read while dealing with whatever was on his mind.

  She started to put on something sexy for him then decided he didn’t deserve it. She shed her bathrobe, and after taking a minute to lotion up, slipped into an oversized Detroit Tigers T-shirt.

  If he was going to preoccupy himself with a book, Tuesday decided to do the same. A few months back, Marcus had gifted her a copy of The Art of War by Sun Tzu. It was the small abridged version with only thirteen short chapters, but Tuesday hadn’t been able to get past the second. Each time she tried to attack it her attention wandered. It wasn’t that Tuesday couldn’t read, she just didn’t enjoy it that much.

  The paperback was on her nightstand where it sat untouched for three weeks. She picked it up and stretched across the bed to get comfortable. Tuesday couldn’t understand why Marcus thought this was so great that she needed to read it. Some Chinese man who had been dead for thousands of years discussing war strategy with horses and chariots when niggas had AK’s now. It didn’t seem relevant. She forced herself to concentrate on the page, on the words no matter how badly her mind wanted to jump to other things.
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  Tuesday only made it through six pages before she traded the book for the TV remote. She switched on their monstrous ninety-two inch Samsung, more interested in the wars fought between the ladies on the Real Housewives of Atlanta.

  Marcus had obviously been watching CNN, and Tuesday was about to change the channel when a news report caught her attention. The caption read: “One of the Largest Drug Busts in History,” and curiosity made Tuesday turn up the volume.

  Thanks to a joint task force between Mexican and US agencies, the number of seizures along the Texas border had quadrupled in the past eleven months, culminating in this record breaker. A shipment containing twelve tons of cocaine had been intercepted. The product was concealed within the filth of three sewage-treatment tanker trucks. On the screen, two uniformed officials wearing proud smiles stood behind a pallet stacked with bundled kilos. A Republican senator credited the President’s new wall, saying that it had plugged all the cracks in the border, forcing illegal immigrants and drug smugglers into riskier methods. Several law enforcement experts patted themselves on the back and speculated about the damage this latest blow had done to the Mexican and South American cartels.

  Tuesday only gave CNN forty-five seconds of her attention before she switched to Bravo and caught up with the petty drama between NeNe Leaks and Candi Burress.

  At the time, she couldn’t imagine how that news story was about to change the lives of her entire family.

  Chapter Five

  Tuesday was thirty-five minutes into her favorite reality show when she heard Marcus approaching from the hall. She quickly shut off the TV and killed the lamp on her nightstand.

  He entered their two-thousand-square foot master bedroom to find all the lights out. Tuesday was curled up on their custom ultra-king-sized bed with her back to him.

  She ignored him when he called her name. Tuesday knew it was a childish game. It was just like the one Danielle had just played with her, but still, she was mad at him. As a woman she felt she had the God-given right to aggravate her man.

  Marcus slid beneath the sheets and closed the distance between them. Tuesday didn’t respond to the feel of his warm body against hers. When he draped his big muscular arm around her, Tuesday didn’t move.

  “Baby listen,” his voice was a bass-filled whisper right at her ear. “Don’t insult my intelligence by faking like you sleep and I won’t keep insulting yours by faking like nothing’s wrong.”

  Tuesday sucked her teeth. It was the only acknowledgement she was willing to give.

  He said, “I been trippin’ lately because I gotta meeting coming up and I’m really not looking forward to it.”

  Tuesday had expected something much worse than some boring meeting like the one she skipped out on. “Just send Brandon in your place.”

  “Can’t. It’s something I have to deal with in person.”

  Tuesday turned on him. Even in the gloom the worry could be seen in her gray-green eyes. Without needing to be told, she already knew what type of meeting this was and why he had been sweating it. He was not being called to attend as Marcus King; this was a meeting for Sebastian Caine.

  “Who’s calling this sit-down?”

  “The type of people you can’t say no to.” He didn’t elaborate and Tuesday didn’t need him to. As a rule, he had never done business in person, so anyone who could demand the presence of Sebastian Caine was definitely somebody to be feared.

  “But I still don’t know why they want you. You’ve been through with that life.” Her last statement had the ring of a question just in case there was something Marcus wasn’t telling her.

  “I’ve been completely legit for years but I’m also connected to shit you’re never really out of. I still have dues I have to pay and obligations I have to meet.”

  She asked, “Everything gone be okay?”

  “Yeah. Just a couple of people gone be there I ain’t never want to see again. That’s all.”

  Tuesday appreciated the explanation, but knew there was more. She had watched her husband stress over something for months and now he was trying to convince her that this meeting was nothing to stress over. “If this ain’t no big deal then why you been so down lately?”

  Marcus rolled onto his back, expelled a heavy breath. “You’ve never heard of Rene Rodriguez—I know it without having to ask. He’s a Mexican immigrant who been living in San Antonio since the sixties, and on the low is one of the richest muthafuckas in America. Rene had control of the border towns in Texas and been responsible for half the product coming up from Mexico since the early eighties.

  “When I was twenty-two, I was down there working for his son. I was just a goon but, for whatever reason, the old man took a shine to me. After his son died, Rene became like a father to me—and this was back when a lot of Latinos wasn’t fucking with blacks like that. You never wondered how a regular nigga like me was able to get plugged on that level? Rene was my connect—later on, he gave me his blessing to start my own thing.”

  Tuesday was fascinated because Marcus never talked about his past. Most of what she knew about Sebastian Caine was centered around myths that circulated through the hood, despite the fact that they slept in the same bed and were raising two children together.

  She started to piece things together for herself. “Rene’s got to be pretty old by now. He’s dying. That’s what this whole thing is about?”

  Marcus rewarded her correct assessment with a brief smile. “Stage four liver cancer—he doesn’t have long. A group of us have to discuss how things are gonna shake out after he’s gone. I also have to go pay my respects.”

  Tuesday was hungry for more but knew that even this small scrap of information was like a buffet when coming from him. It still put her at ease somewhat since she could now understand his concerns.

  She asked, “When do you have to go?”

  “Next week. I’m leaving on Wednesday.”

  Tuesday moved closer to him. Her eyes were gray and serious when she said, “Thank you for telling me.”

  He pulled back the silky black hair that hung to conceal part of her face. “Bae, I’m wrong for not telling you sooner. Even with the rings and kids, I know sometimes it just feel like we’re playing family. But in order for our thing to be real, we have to let each other in.”

  Marcus was bathed in the violet glow that filtered into the window, falling across their bed. He stared at her through coffee-colored eyes with thick brows. His neatly-trimmed goatee framed pink juicy lips.

  Tuesday didn’t know at what point she started kissing them. She just found herself on top of Marcus, pulling off his wifebeater. He had a broad chest from years of lifting weights which Tuesday covered with light kisses.

  He stopped her as she pecked her way down his eight-pack abs. “If you gone hook me up, do it right.”

  Tuesday looked up at him. “What’cho mean?”

  “I’m just sayin’ if you gone bless me, bless me with the real shit. Don’t shortchange me.”

  Tuesday smirked. “Nigga, I know you ain’t sayin’ my head done got whack?”

  “Not whack because you better than most when you ain’t even trying. But you ain’t been giving me yo’ best either. Lately you ain’t been goin’ hard.”

  Tuesday pretended like she didn’t know what he was talking about when she actually did. The distance between them had Tuesday capping him off more out of obligation than genuine enthusiasm. She didn’t notice the drop-off in her performance but he obviously had.

  “Or maybe you was just saving your best tongue work for yo’ girl?”

  That came out of left field and caught Tuesday totally off guard. Her eyes went buck but she caught herself before she gave away too much. “Boy, what is you talkin’ bout?”

  Marcus gave her a bitch please look. “You really gone sit here and do that?

  “At first I ain’t give a fuck cause I figure it was just you havin’ some fun, relieving some stress. But now it’s affecting shit at work and at home. You n
eed to shut that shit down like yesterday.”

  Tuesday didn’t know why she was so surprised that Marcus knew about Shaun; since she had known him he made it his business to know about everything that happened around him. She didn’t think he actually had people following her but couldn’t rule that out either. Her husband had enough clout to have somebody in the CIA watching her with a satellite.

  Tuesday was busted but still tried to play dumb. “Bae, for real. What’cho talkin’ about?”

  Marcus just smiled. He saw the game she wanted to play and just left it alone. “So what’s happenin’? Can a nigga still get hooked up or what?”

  Tuesday had always taken pride in her skills and felt some type of way at hearing her man was not satisfied. She wanted to make up for that and remind him of what she could do. So when she tugged down his shorts, she devoured the dick. She took the length of him hungrily, all throat and no hands. Marcus cuffed the back of her head and groaned in ecstasy.

  It hardly took five minutes of Tuesday using her special corkscrew technique to push him to a powerful explosion. He cursed out loud, unloaded into her warm, wet mouth while she continued to suck and swallow.

  Marcus was lying on his back, head still spinning when Tuesday asked, “Was that my A-game or what?”

  “Oh, now you gone get arrogant. Bitch come here!”

  He pulled Tuesday on top of him and when he pulled off her Tigers T-shirt, there was nothing underneath because, while he might not have earned the sexy lingerie, she still knew she was going to fuck him. She teased his semi-hard dick back to a full erection then sat on it and began to grind in slow circles.

  Most of the rich housewives were flocking to get plastic surgery and Tuesday was no exception. She only got a boob job because nursing Tanisha had left her tits deflated. She selected a modest 36C that looked and felt natural.

  She was on top riding Marcus while he matched her rhythm with upward thrusts. That big dick was hitting her spot and she couldn’t control herself. He sat up to feed on her nipples while putting fingers in her ass. Marcus stroked her deep and told her the pussy was his and Tuesday moaned in agreement.