Niko wondered what had led Tiana into that profession. Was her motivation purely fitness? He’d seen so much depth in her eyes last night…there appeared to be so much…something…not sadness, but hurt, maybe?
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, all he knew was that he wanted to fix it. To make whatever was wrong in her life right. To protect her from anything or anyone that would ever harm her.
Never in his life had he had such strong, primal instincts before. Not even when it came to his little sister Frankie. Frankie was always so capable. So strong. So independent. She was raised around four boys and wanted to be treated as such, if he’d babied her, she would have hated it.
G was the only serious relationship he’d had, and she wasn’t necessarily Miss Independent, but she came from old money, and her family cleaned up any mess she made. In one phone call, her dad would bail her out of any situation. She had a driver until she was twenty-five, a condo, a cleaner, a cook, anda personal assistant, none of which she paid for. Niko never feltresponsiblefor G.
Somehow, in a three-minute conversation, he’d not only felt responsible for Tiana, but he alsowantedthe privilege. He would consider himself or any man lucky if they were the man she called, the man she leaned on, the man who stood beside her in life.
“Niko.” Jessie’s voice was raised to a volume that immediately told him it was not the first time she’d said it.
Apparently, he’d been zoned out thinking about Tiana.
He blinked and met her eyes. “Sorry, yeah.”
Her right brow lifted. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
He didn’t respond, which was his answer.
There was the tiniest, nearly imperceptible flare of her nostril before she said, “You’re not playing next year. We both know it.”
It was the first time he’d heard those words spoken out loud. He knew it. His team knew it. His coach knew it. His management knew it, but no one had said it to him or around him.
“These next five weeks are crucial,” she continued. “You need to project wholesome. No more threesomes. No more fights. No mo?—”
“I haven’t got in a fig?—”
Jessie lifted her hand, halting his speech. “No more responding to trolls on social media.”
“Once. It was one time.” And in Niko’s defense, they came after his brother, not him.
A few years ago, someone mistook AJ for Niko, and AJ told the man, who was intoxicated, that he wasn’t Niko, and he didn’t believe him. He started talking shit to him, thinking he was Niko, and AJ, who refused to engage in that sort of behavior, tried to extract himself from the situation. The man then put hishands on AJ, who then used the necessary force to remove the man’s hands from his person.
The incident was caught on camera, and once the man sobered up and realized what a jackass he’d been and that he’d been speaking to AJ, not Niko, instead of apologizing and taking accountability for his behavior, he doubled down, calling AJ offensive names online, including Forest Gump. AJ could have cared less. Things like that didn’t bother him in the slightest bit. Niko saw red. He’d been tempted to show up at the man’s home and confront him face-to-face since most people talked a big game in the comfort of their homes but didn’t say shit to someone’s face. But he knew he might do something so stupid he’d land in jail, so instead he met the man where he was, on social media. He took it to the virtual streets. He annihilated him.
All Niko’s life he’d been his siblings’ protector. Whether it was an asshole calling his brother Rain Man or a shithead or calling his sister Pippy Longstocking because of her red hair, no one disrespected them. Niko had only ever felt that about those two people, but that same ferocious instinct came over him when he looked in Tiana’s eyes. Except ten times stronger.
“I know historically you don’t advertise the work you do with charities, I’ve never pushed you on that. But desperate times.”
“No, Jessie, I’m not going to exploit?—”
“If you want to continue being relevant and having a career that puts you in the position to continue your charitable work, then ‘yes, Niko, you are going to.’” She tapped her screen, and his phone vibrated. “I just sent you your schedule for the next five weeks.”
With a sigh, he pulled the device from his pocket. At first glance he didn’t see anything in the schedule he would object to. Basically, he’d have to do press at the typical fundraisers and volunteer work he did every holiday season with two exceptions.The first was a nonstarter, there was no room for negotiation, and it was not happening.
“Haven House is not going to be publicized.”
“No, of course not. No names will be?—”
“No, itwill notbe publicized.”
Jessie was silent for a beat. “Fine. Just so you know, my intention was not to exploit them. I was hoping to bring attention to the organization in the hopes that donations and awareness would increase.”
“We can figure out another way to do that.”
Niko volunteered at Haven House, the women and children’s domestic violence shelter, twice a year and had been doing so since he was eighteen years old. He taught self-defense classes, just like his father had.
As a child, Niko remembered tagging along with his dad who was teaching people what Niko thought was karate. Niko had no concept of what they were doing or where they were, he thought they were just places where a lot of ladies lived with kids. He’d watch his dad teach the women how to protect themselves.
