Him & Her (BWWM Curvy Romance): A Game Served Spicy (Book Two): Him & Her (BWWM Curvy Romance): A Game Served Spicy, #2

Prologue

One Month, Three Days Ago…

…But I can’t cook, at least not like someone who gets paid to do it. I guess that’s why he’s lost his mind and chosen you—you fat, ugly slut!

Collette has lost her damn mind yelling and calling me a fat slut. Sometimes I have to remind myself it’s just not worth the jail time. And she can’t, for the life of her, bring herself to call me a Chef.

I mean come on Nora! Who would have thought something as antiquated as cooking—of all things—would be the hook into Micah James? Look at me…LOOK AT ME! she yells. I’m gorgeous and you’re just a run of the mill short, fat, average black girl. She takes a few steps closer into the light and glares at me. I just don’t get it. I really don’t see what he sees in you.

We’re on the neglected side of the restaurant parking lot, where employees park and this fool has managed to catch me off guard. I should have left with the last of my crew tonight, but I had to change and make sure everything was locked up. Now I’m out here with this fruit loop who refuses to say my name correctly. Is Nori that hard to remember?

You know my name is Nori. I manage to get out as she finally takes a breath. If you can manage to remember where I work and what time I get off, I know you can remember my name. Nothing, no response or acknowledgement to that.

She’s not even listening as she gears up to continue her tirade. Oh, so this is where you go on talking over me? Okay—you’ve got five minutes. Make it good, I say. A quick glance at my work watch and now I’m pissed. It’s 12:17 am! This is crazy on steroids. Collette, it’s the middle of the night, at my place of employment, and you’re rambling on and on about Micah and how he was so into you? Child, give it a rest and move on.

You are going to get out of my way once and for all. Micah was so close and now I have to start over because of you. The venom-filled look in her eyes is enough to make me believe what Micah says about her and her ways. Her voice is raspy, like she’s been screaming or crying at the top of her lungs for days. You know he practically begged me to help him decorate that pitiful box he calls a house. Before I took mercy to help him, that…thing was going to be a big, boring white box. I had to take over the design to make it somewhat inhabitable.

Really? She believes all this crap she’s spewing. I don’t have time for this. I say almost to myself knowing she’s still just a tad out of reach to hit and too wound up hear what I’m saying.

Do you know the only reason you have that guest suite you live in is because of me? It was a freaking small, windowless box with a pitiful closet before I changed it. And that spa bathroom in there—yeah that was all me too. So, you need to thank your lucky stars for me. Micah has the decorating skills of a temperamental toddler. I decorated that house to meet at least the minimum requirements of my living needs, once I moved in.

This woman is certifiable, but I keep my mouth shut. That glassy look in her eyes can’t be good. The cool night air takes a cue from her tirade and starts to sting with enough cold in it to bite through my jacket. A shiver races through my body. The staccato rhythm of my teeth chattering is my clue I’m officially cold. That’s it. I don’t have time for her pitiful midnight show.

A word of advice Collette…don’t believe everything you think—some of it might be delusional. Now it’s cold out here, this jacket isn’t cutting it to keep me warm and I’m running short on patience. Get to the point and move out of my way.

She’s still going on and ignoring me. I don’t know why I even tried to show that immature caveman culture and class. His choice of a house…even you should have been my clue he was a going to be an especially hard case.

She comes closer and I curse myself for allowing her to get the jump on me like this. That’ll teach me about talking on the phone and not paying attention to my surroundings, especially at night. I should have learned my lesson with Micah following me the first night we met and now this whack job has managed to pull it off too. I’m done and embracing a healthy dose of paranoia to survive in this town from here on. Time to shut this down though. My bag is heavy with all the crap I feel the need to carry around. Ooh, it would be so easy to swing it and knock the hell out of her right now. Ah yeah, but again, not worth the jail time.

Collette, what do you want? …You know you’re banned from being here, I say a bit too tired and looking around the sparse space.

What do I want? Ha! Like I said, I want you to get out of my way. You’re a nuisance I should never have taken for granted. I’ve spent the last three long years working on that man-child to get him to pull the trigger and marry me. Then here you come, willing to cater to his every need and totally destroy everything I’ve worked so hard to establish. I had him on a schedule, you know. I should have put a stop to it when I first found out about that stupid roommate deal you two made. I knew it was not the whole truth with him.

Before I can catch myself, my eyebrows lift and she’s quick to notice.

Yes, I knew he was into you when he first told me he let you mooch off of him to stay at his house.

Her words slash into me despite knowing the source. You and I both know Micah never said I mooched off him. Quit putting words into his mouth. She’s good at getting the best effect for her words, I’ll give her that, but I’m really going to shut this down now.

"Collette, it doesn’t matter what you knew, the fact still remains you never had anything more than a casual Friends-With-Benefits type of relationship with him. You allowed it and he took it. Now, I’m tired and need to go home. I know I must be shaking my head in pity when she moves to the side to stay in front of me. Collette, you’re upset. I get that but nothing will bring you better peace, than minding your own business. And, Micah is not your business. Please step out of my way. You’re standing in front of my car."

Ha! Your car! Don’t you mean Micah’s car? And that brings me to what I really want. You are going to leave Micah—tonight. Yes, you’re going to collect all your little cheap, raggedy belongings, pack up and—how does your type of people say it in those dreadful rap songs—get the hell on? Yes, I think that’s it. Its time for you to GET-THE-HELL-ON.

You’re funny, yep Collette you are something else. Who knew you listened to rap music. It’s not my cup of tea, but to each her own. As for leaving Micah, that isn’t going to happen. You’ve got me confused with someone who might actually think you can make them do what you want. That isn’t me. Now, I’m going to ask politely one last time for you to move or I’m going to call the police.

Haha, call the police. Yes do that and while you’re at it, take a look at a little inspirational presentation I made for you.

My phone is in midair to dial when she whips out an iPad mini with a picture of her and another distinguished looking lady on the screen. I have to lean in a bit to make out the caption. It’s the State’s Attorney General and her enjoying a hearty laugh.

Oops, I forgot to do the narration for this. Let me see… she turns the device to look at it and then back to me as she says, this is me and my good friend, State Attorney General, Amy Quenton.

And what does that picture have to do with you getting out of my way?

That picture? It has a lot to do with why you are going to leave Micah tonight because of this picture, yes this one right here… she pauses to advance the slide show and the next picture wrenches bile up and into my mouth. As I fight back the acidic taste filling my mouth she continues, Oh yes, this is the picture. I know it will make you do whatever I want you to. The flashing menace in her eyes is enough to make me sway on my feet. "See, I can make you do just about whatever I want to with this picture, now can’t I?"

How did you? It’s difficult to speak. My tongue is swollen, hot and sticking to the roof of my mouth as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing.

You mean this picture of me and your mother? Louise and I have also become close friends.

On the screen is a picture of Collette kissing the cheek of my MOTHER at the rehabilitation facility in what looks like a selfie. It’s very recent too. My mother has on the deep purple sweater I recently bought to keep her from getting chills with the temperature they keep at the facility.

She’s Mrs. Blackmon to you. And you stay away from my mother, you crazy bitch!

She continues to flip through pictures as if I’ve said nothing. There are so many; ones of her and my mother at the facility. Get it together Nori. Don’t let her get to you. I fight to keep it together. I can’t let her know how much this is getting to me.

The smirk riding Collette’s face is bone chilling and serious. She knows she has thrown me but how in the hell did she find my mother and manage to get that close to her? Collette, how did you get those pictures? I demand.

I’ve got your little brain stumped, don’t I? she asks, cackling like a hyena. It’s amazing what one can do with an offer of a small donation and volunteer hours at that place. Are you sure you want her in a place that’s so quick to grant full access for such a low price?

You know what I mean Peroxide Princess—I swear you give blondes a bad name. I can’t help myself. Her hair looks like a white petrified forest of stiff hair, bleached within an inch of its life. Don’t play with me. How did you locate my mother and get that close to her?

Oh, that…wouldn’t you like to know? For now, all you need to know is that if you want to make sure your mama doesn’t suffer a ‘setback’ in her treatment or quality of care, you’ll leave Micah and his place tonight.

You wouldn’t hurt a defenseless woman. Collette, you can’t be that heartless. You wouldn’t risk your freedom. You’re bluffing.

Yes, Nora, you’re right…about some of it. Like I said, you’d be amazed at what a little volunteer time and money here and there can do in that place. I don’t know why they pay the workers so little to do that thankless job. The incessant clicking of her nail against the face of the iPad threatens to drive me to tear out her jugular.

And I want to tear her from limb to limb but I have to think this through. I make bad decisions when I don’t. Momma always taught me to think things through. A few quick scenarios run through my mind. I venture to test my theory and offer, Collette, I don’t believe you. You wouldn’t harm or have my mother harmed. I’ll make sure you can’t have access to her again and I’m certain the police would love to know about your fraud attempts on the workers at the facility. There, that should get her to back down.

The high shrill of laughter that escapes that woman is amazing. Poor tragic black, fat girl, remember how this slide show started? I’m a close friend with the State Attorney. Who do you think people will believe—an unknown poor black woman or a proven friend and upstanding citizen such as myself? Unlike you, I’ve been here in the community making a name and reputation for myself. They are more apt to believe me than the ranting of an unknown person who’s never made a donation to their causes or campaigns. Think about that dear. It’s simple. I have power and clout and well…you don’t.

Dammit she’s right. I’m warning you Collette, it doesn’t matter what you say, I’m not going to stand by and let you do anything to my mother. You can’t bully me. I’m not weak or scared of you or your threats. Try me and see if I don’t punish you!

"Ooh big words for someone who has so little bargaining room. You seem to forget that she’s not the only one that might have an…accident. I’d hate to see you all alone without your precious Micah too. I may not be the one to do the deed, but trust me, I have many who are waiting and wanting to do my bidding. Having money will make things happen. And, as long as I have breath in my body, you will never have Micah or peace. You’ve messed with the wrong woman. I’m going to punish you, Nora.

For damn sake Paulette, My name is Nori! See how it feels to have your name mangled. I don’t care what you say, you don’t have any proof you can pull off any of what you say.

Who says I don’t? She goes back to the slide show and what follows is just sickening.

What you see here is a picture of Micah’s prized everyday car—that God-awful Jeep’s under carriage and brake system. I’d hate to see anything happen to it when he’s driving. You know he has a lead foot and at top speed, that could prove to be a bit hazardous to his health.

Look you sick bitch, I’ve just about had it with your threats. You have an option, get out of my way and leave me the hell alone or try and stop me from getting to that car and driving over your crazy ass.

Like I’ve never said a thing, she continues that sick presentation of hers. The next picture in the slide show is one of my mother’s arm and a needle sticking close to a vein. What is that Collette? I say in disbelief.

"Don’t play dumb dear. It really doesn’t suit you. You know that is your mother’s arm, a needle and syringe filled with nothing but air. Isn’t it funny how oxygen can give life or take it away? Keep playing with me and that syringe gets inserted into her wrist—tonight—and no one will be the wiser. You talk too big considering how vulnerable your mother—and Micah are."

She’s crazy and I can’t put my mother or my man in danger like this. Okay, Collette. Just stop it. Call off your threats on both of them and I’ll do what you want.

"That’s more like it, Nori." The malice in her voice is eerie and sadistic.

But I’ll be damn. She said my name.

It’s cold out here and I’m ready to get warm, so this is what is about to happen. You get into Micah’s car and drive to his house. I follow. You have thirty minutes to pack and I take you to the train station.

What? You can’t be serious.

Yes, I am. And here… she passes me a note.

What’s this? I say taking the piece of paper.

It’s the note you’re going to leave Micah. Re-write it in your handwriting and if you try any funny business, your mother and that syringe meet, tonight.

I open it to see a cryptic note that reads..

Micah,

I can't do this. Please do not try to contact me.

Good-bye,

Nori

Chapter 1

Present Day

I miss her, I yell from some psychedelic vantage point in this crazy funhouse looking room. Hey…did you even hear me? She won’t return my calls or see me. She’s shut me out, I say to an obviously irritated Simon.

It’s loud in here and I can’t hear myself think, let alone make sure Simon understands what I’m saying.

I hear you…stop yelling and bring your ass down from there, the smug bastard says like I’m not serious about this mess I’m in.

It’s been over a month since she left me and I can’t get over her, I say trying to make the dimwit understand.

Hey, wait a minute. What am I doing talking to Simon about this? Where the hell am I and how’d he get here for that matter? Shit, I don’t remember. Nothing makes sense anymore. This is tripped out.

Wherever I am, the place needs to quit moving and swaying. And it’s hot as fuck in here too. Is getting over her driving me insane?

The dark interior of black tables and red walls remind me of a bad production of a scene from Hell.

Whoa…shit! Did I just almost fall?

Um…yeah, the nodding, judgmental Simon says with enough sarcasm to make me want to swing on him—if he would stay still long enough.

She’s left me without a backward glance, just that stupid-assed note. She’s ghost like I’m bad blood to her.

The last thing I remember for certain tonight is getting out of the house to drive her out of my head. The continual thought of her is making me loopy. No one’s ever made me hurt like this and I hate it—I want to hate her—but can’t. Nope, I’m the damn dope who can’t get over this—her. I still want her back even after she rejected me like some loser.

I need to hate the hell out of her but…I just can’t shake her. I can’t get over her. She won’t see me take my calls or anything. She’s completely rejected me and I don’t know why, I say in mumble more to myself than anyone in particular.

But I don’t have the guts to admit out loud how I can’t work, eat or even think straight since she left. Yep, this is Hell. That note keeps haunting me…’I can’t do this anymore’ it says, mocking me every time I think about it.

Can’t do what? Be loved and cherished by me? She promised and we had a deal—no decisions without talking with me first. But I guess her old habits couldn’t stay away. She had to do things on her own and not include me.

Rejection is a bitch. She left me without having the decency to face me. Did she leave me for another guy?

The torturous thought makes my body hurt in an instant. I know what I need to do—I need to hate her. She’s left me in a bad way all right. And, I won’t dare think about how physically castrated I am. My dick aches for only her like a mofo.

Simon’s voice drifts back to invade my thoughts.

I know but you’ve got to quit yelling at the top of your damn lungs. I’m right here Micah. You’re really starting to piss me off with this shit, he says.

What did I do to him? He might be a figment of my imagination—a super angry one—but one nonetheless, for all I know. This all feels like a nightmare instead of reality.

I’m not yelling. I’m just trying to tell you what happened. It’s loud in here and I need to you hear me. Oh…no that’s the wrong word… I hear myself say but the words, they’re all slurred.

Why can’t I get my mind and my mouth to cooperate? She always says that’s the wrong word—‘hear’. She says I only hear her but never… look... or is it listen? Yeah, I got it now.

"No Simon, look at me."

I’m looking at you dude and so is everyone else, is the flat response he lobs at me for my efforts.

No that’s not right either. My vision blurs a bit as I shake my head to clear it. It’s getting so hot in here too. This place sucks balls worse than a prison—can’t they afford to turn on the damn air? "Sorry man, I’m hot in here but I need you to listen to me, like she says I have to. You have to listen to me, not just hear me. Yeah, that’s it," I manage to get out, in spite of the room spinning. On top of hot as hell, this room is too loud and it’s spinning like a hyped up tilt-a-world.

"You son, have to get back into your groove. This isn’t like you Micah. Where’s that warrior master gamer I know, who’s never seen a challenge he couldn’t win?"

Uh-oh, Simon is pissed. He called me son. Fuck, I’m in some sort of trouble. His voice sounds weird though. And why is he so short and far away?

What’s going on with you? Look at yourself Micah. You’re behind on your game release and a lot of people are depending on you to deliver—on schedule. The Micah I know never misses deadlines.

I squint to focus on dwarf Simon. He’s mad as hell but so tiny and fuzzy, like looking down at him in a dark tunnel. His voice booms over the noise though, as he lays into me again.

You don’t have the luxury of checking out or losing it. Take a long hard look and get yourself together quick.

I’d rather not try to look right now. The room keeps spinning and all those flashing lights aren’t helping.

It’s hot in here. Why is it so hot in here? I say looking for an air vent or something to provide relief from this hot house. I don’t give a fuck about that game. I want her back with me. Tell me how to get her back Simon.

Micah don’t do this to yourself. You’re in a bad way, slurring your words and your drunker than I’ve ever seen you before, he says and sighs. Look, I can only imagine how bad this hurts, but you’ve got to snap out of it. It looks like you’re taking this way too hard and falling apart—pull it together bro.

He comes a bit closer but he’s still a short Simon—huh. He might be right.

I can hear my own breathing now as he continues, How are you going to impress her to come back, if you’re a drunken mess? When was the last time you even shaved dude? You know how strong she is and she fell for an equally strong and confident Micah. Not this guy, he says as he waves an accusing hand my way.

Is this a dream? Simon refuses to be still and he’s a short Simon too. It’s hard to focus on him and he doesn’t understand. She doesn’t want me. I have to make him get that and help me win her back. He can do it, he’s done it before.

I know but it’s so fucking hard. She left me you know. I must not have been doing the right thing to make her stay. She left without an explanation or anything. We had an agreement man.

A pang of searing pressure moves through the pit of my stomach almost making me double over. It’s a constant companion when I allow myself to go here—to think about her. I can’t stop though. The sickness urges me on, looking for an outlet.

We promised we would talk before either made a decision that affected us—we promised.

A weight in my hand draws my attention. A drink. I can drown all this out. Yeah, make everyone and everything go away and leave me alone. Got to get her—and this dwarf Simon out of my head.

The glass rim caresses my lips. I inhale the welcome familiar scent of smooth heat, as the fiery amber liquid slides down my throat. Dousing the raging ache in the pit of my stomach down to a dull throb, it hits the spot. This is what I need to give me more courage to go on. I have to get all this shit out or no one will understand.

It hurts so damn much. The pain is merciless and won’t stop, I say hating how embarrassed I am with myself. But he’s still here, staring at me with that condescending look of pity. He’ll never understand.

You know you’re being a drama queen right now, don’t you? he asks.

"I am not. She turned her back on us, like it meant nothing to her and I hate myself for still wanting her. I just want one night of peace from the thought of her. Is that too much to hope for or want?"

Simon has a ‘that didn’t move me at all’ look on his face. But the crowd behind him seems to be enjoying the show.

Why are all these people here and staring at me anyway? I don’t know any of them. Man I must be really tripping. This dream is crazy. I take another gulp of my favorite scotch. Yeah, that’s better but not by much.

"I just want her back and I don’t know why it’s like this. I need answers and all I can think about is why. She even quit her job, man. She just up and left. I can’t find her. You got to help me Simon." I despise the pleading in my voice but its there—honestly.

Uh-uh, put that drink down. You’re cut off for the night—and as long as it takes you to dry out. I knew I should have kept closer tabs on you. Right now, I have to get you home. Get down from there. He waits but I have no clue how to get down. He barks out the command again, startling me, Come down here now! Short Simon tugs on my pant leg and I almost fall. "How’d you manage to get up on that tiny bar table anyway? No matter. You’ve had too much