The boys work together on plays and if a ball misses the basket, someone is always there to catch it on the rebound. I know things are a little strained between Slade and Blake off the court, but that bullshit seems to get put aside every time they play and it warms my heart to see.
“I’ve been thinking,” Daniella says, leaning toward me once again. “I’m going to come clean to Slade. He needs to know who he is and where he comes from, but I’m going to need to work up to it.”
I nod. “I think that’s a great idea.”
She gives me a tight smile and I realize just how hard it was for her to reach that decision. “I’m also going to help you with Lucien. Whatever it takes, we’re going to put that man behind bars so he can’t hurt anyone else.”
My eyes fill with tears and I meet her gaze. “You really mean that?”
She nods. “I sure do. It’s going to be hard and I’m sure at times I’m going to want to back down, but if we don’t do this, it’s going to continue to bring us down. I’ve spent years being afraid and it kills me to think that the same could happen to you. You’re Chelle’s little girl and if I couldn’t have been there to help her, I’m going to do everything I can to help you.”
The tears fall from my eyes and I lean in to pull Daniella into a tight hug. “Thank you,” I tell her. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“No, thank you, Skylah. Without you, I never would have found the strength, but I have and because of you, I can start moving on and close this horrid chapter of my life. I want to be there for my family and I want to be a role model for my girls. I don’t want them thinking that it’s acceptable to hide from things that scare you. I want them to grow into strong young ladies just like you.”
I pull back and meet her eyes. “My mom was really lucky to have a friend like you.”
“No, I was lucky to have her.”
Daniella reaches over and squeezes my thigh and after giving her a smile, I turn back to my boys only to find Slade’s suspicious eyes already on me, but more importantly, on his mother’s hand on my thigh. Clearly, he just saw our little moment and I don’t doubt that the second this game is over, he’s going to demand an explanation.
Chapter 6
I walk down to Slade’s place after hearing the rhythmic sound of a basketball hitting the pavement. Considering Blake passed out the second he got home from the game and that the sound is faint rather than torturously loud like when it happens right outside my bedroom window, I knew it had to be Slade.
After grabbing my jacket, I sneak out the window and take off at a brisk walk, hoping the fast movements will help to warm the chill that seeps into my bones.
The light coming from his home shines bright enough that I can just make out his shadow moving around his empty drive. He holds two balls, one in either hand and passes the balls between his legs as he strides toward the basket that’s been bolted above his garage door.
He shoots, sending one of the balls flying through the hoop with ease and he instantly collects it, reminding me for the millionth time, just how talented he is.
I start making my way down his drive as he turns and begins dribbling the balls again. He comes to a startled stop when he realizes he’s not alone and guilt pours through me for sneaking up on him, especially as we’ve been waiting for a threat from Lucien.
“Sorry,” I murmur, easing him. “It’s just me.”
He props the balls against his hips and makes his way toward me with worry in his eyes. “What’s wrong? Why are you up? It’s past midnight.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I tell him. “I just heard you playing and thought I’d come and sit with you.”
His eyes bug out of his head. “Shit, you could hear me all the way down there?”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “It echoes right down the street. I’m surprised you haven’t had shit left on your doorstep by pissed off neighbors.”
“Damn,” he murmurs, stepping into me and brushing his lips over mine. “Do you want a blanket or something?”
“No,” I smile, loving how he cares. “I’m good.”
“Okay,” he says slowly, sounding as though he doesn’t believe a word I say. He turns on his heels and gets back to work. The balls alternate between his legs, sometimes he bounces it behind his legs, and sometimes in front. It’s mesmerizing.
“How do you do that?” I question, laying down on the grass and slipping my arms under my head as I watch him.