40
Game On
Bo sat out by the pool nursing a drink that he didn’t even want. The only reason that he’d stopped at the bar and gotten it is because he was bored as hell. Darius didn’t even like football. Why he’d decided to accept Kelvin Petersen’s invitation to the viewing party at his house was beyond him. And he’d been so adamant about it! Sure, Darius and Kelvin knew each other from LA and Kelvin’s father, Derrick Montgomery’s, church, but hell, just barely. They’d interacted a bit when Darius was minister of music at KCCC but that was usually casual conversations during dinners at the pastor’s house. What is he, homesick? If he’d known that was the case, he would have sought out Kelvin much more during the two years that they’d lived here, invited him over, given him tickets to shows. Now it didn’t seem to matter; he and Darius were moving back to Los Angeles. Oh, well.
“Let me go find Princess,” Bo mumbled to himself as he got up from the stool at the poolside bar. “Maybe she can tell me some juicy gossip that will make my visit worthwhile.” He walked into the house and was surprised to see quite a few more people than were there when he went outside. Dang, I wasn’t gone that long. Was I? He weaved his way through the people in the room by the pool and headed toward the theater at the back of the house, one of the places where the football game was on and where the diehards were watching it. Maybe it’s halftime and somebody good is performing. As he passed the dining room, he saw Princess amid a group of excited females.
“He is gorgeous,” one was saying as he stepped into the group.
“Oh, thank you,” he answered, without missing a beat. “I know I am, but I appreciate your saying so.”
The women looked around; some laughing, others obviously not knowing what to think. “Everybody, this is a friend from Los Angeles, Bo Jenkins. He’s Darius Crenshaw’s partner and manager.”
“Wife,” Bo corrected, as he shook the ladies’ hands. “Nice to meet y’all. I was just playing. It was probably my handsome husband that you were talking about.”
“Close, but not quite,” the sistah with the short locks said. “You’d have to go a little taller and a lot lighter.” The women laughed. “Paz D.,” she explained. “That’s who we’re talking about.”
“Oh, please,” Bo said, disdain written all over his face. “That’s a face that is overrated.”
“There are probably, oh, a billion women who disagree with you,” a cute little redhead responded. She looked at the woman beside her. “Have you seen a more gorgeous body cross a room?”
Bo ridged, immediately on full alert. “Cross what room?”
“The one we’re standing in,” Redhead said. “I took one look at that butt and almost died!” She gave a fake swoon that sent the group laughing.
Bo? Not so much. “Uh, excuse me.” He turned and made a beeline to the theater. There were about twenty people, mostly men, watching the game in animated fashion. Something had them really focused. Bo vaguely heard them discussing an injury, but he couldn’t digest that information for looking for his man. He walked over to where Kelvin lounged in a theater chair. “You seen Darius?”
Kelvin looked around. “He was in here a minute ago. He might have gone to get something to eat. Check the dining room.”
The last statement was said to Bo’s back as he was already heading out of the theater and back into the main part of the house. Various scenarios were coming to his mind, none of them good. The Petersen house was big, but he made his way to one side of the double staircase and began to climb. On his way he remembered how much Darius liked to get his freak on in strange places, how they’d be at a party and he and Bo would—No! He wouldn’t do that to me. He . . . there’s no way. Still, Bo’s footsteps quickened as he neared a hall of rooms. He reached the first door and opened it without hesitation. Empty. Bo let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. His heart slowed a little as he reached the next door. Empty again. Bo, you’re tripping. Those girls might be lying. Paz is probably not even here. Rationality returned as Bo checked one room after another. Darius wouldn’t have invited Paz to a party that they’d driven to together. “Boy, you are something else,” he whispered to himself as he retraced his steps.
He was almost to the flight of stairs when he heard a voice, a man’s voice, low and muffled. I thought I checked that room. He crept to the door, put his ear against the wood. There it was, the sound he heard. No, more like a moan. And then another one, the same but different. Two men? Aw, hell, no. He tried the knob, but the door was locked. But considering that he was ninety-nine point nine percent sure of who was on the other side, it would take more than that to keep him out, especially since this was one of those push locks and not the kind requiring a key. He fairly ran down the hall to the bathroom he’d passed and opened the vanity’s top drawer. Bingo! He grabbed a bobby pin and then, as an afterthought, grabbed something else out of the drawer before marching back down to the door. The grunting had gotten louder. Bo was so angry he probably could have broken the door down even though it was solid wood. Pushing the pin inside the hole, he turned the knob. The door swung open, revealing the hard, round butt he loved so much. For a few seconds he stood stunned, disbelieving. And then Paz called Darius’s name, and jolted Bo out of immobility.
“You son of a bitch,” he hissed, running to the ass hovering over another one and striking.
“Ow, shit!” Darius yelled. He jumped off a naked Paz, whose eyes widened when he saw the scissors dripping blood in Bo’s hand.
“You hurt him!” Paz said, lunging for Bo.
“I’m not done, muthafucka!” Bo lunged again and sliced Paz in the chest.
“Bo, stop!” Darius grabbed Bo. “Get out of here,” he shouted to Paz, while wrestling Bo for the scissors being held in a viselike grip.
“Let me go. I’m going to kill him. Let me go!”
“Calm down, Bo,” Darius said between clenched teeth. “You’re making a scene!”
“You. Think. I. Give. A. Damn?” Bo panted, trying to break loose from Darius’s grasp just as they heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs.
“Aw, hell,” Darius muttered, looking down at his state of nakedness and, now that the shock of being caught was wearing off, feeling a major pain in the ass—no pun intended.
“What’s going o—Oh, no!” Princess hurried inside the room with Kelvin’s best friend, Brandon, hot on her trail. She closed the door against looky-loos while Brandon walked over to where worldwide wrestling was still taking place.
“Guys! Guys! Break it up.” With Darius squeezing Bo’s wrist, Brandon managed to pry Princess’s stainless steel cosmetic scissors out of his hand. “Stop, or I’m going to have to call the police.” Bo continued to squirm, but he was clearly exhausted. “Seriously, y’all need to chill on this shit.” When it appeared that the fight was over, Brandon turned to Princess. “Go get Kelvin.”
Princess left the room. Brandon noticed the drops of blood dotting the floor. He followed the trail up to Darius’s hand, the one that held his buttocks while the other one covered his junk.
“Damn, man. What happened?”
“Don’t worry about what happened,” Darius hissed. “Just get out of here so I can get dressed. I need to make an exit without being seen.”