Love's Ineligible Receiver (Connecticut Kings Book 5) by Love Belvin

Author:Love Belvin [Belvin, Love]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MKT Publishing
Published: 2018-08-08T16:00:00+00:00

~Twelve

“This bitch killin’ the game!” Paula slapped the table with one hand while holding a bottle of Corona in the other.

The folding table shook and the Connect Four chips rattled. It was my seventh game in a row and my sixth win. My only loss was game two with another one of Rut’s cousins because I got distracted when Rut walked away, appearing weary. I decided to give him his time and kicked the butts of everyone wanting smoke out here.

“You fittin’ in very well, Miss Lady.” Paula nodded so hard I thought her little body would tilt over.

But she stayed on her feet, even as she wobbled away to the picnic table next to me. Rut never mentioned his mother had a high tolerance for alcohol. In fact, since I was introduced to her a few hours earlier at the funeral, I tried to recall all things he’d said about her. I turned to find the next person taking to the table.

“And what’s your name?” I asked the lanky brown skinned gentlemen with old box braids sitting across from me.

He snickered, shyly with yellow eyes. “Bootsie,” he croaked.

“Hi, Bootsie. I’m Parker, Rut’s friend. How’re you related to him?” Because everyone claims to be. I’d been trying to keep up with names and relationships.

“Cousins. My Daddy and his’ cousins.” He gathered the red chips that seemed favored by all the relatives I’d played when I offered them to pick a color.

No one picked black, so I stopped asking.

“Okay. Let’s go.” I sat up, offering him to go first.

We were in Rut’s childhood home where B-Rocka’s, also known as Brian Barton, repass was hosted. Jeff Redd’s “You Called and Told Me” sprouted from the speakers in the spaciously green backyard. It was here where I, too, learned Rut had moved to, away from the streets of Trenton. Apparently, the “General” he told me about had purchased Paula and Rut a home to get him out of Trenton and in a safer environment so he could focus on football. But B-Rocka and the rest of the family lived back in Trenton where the funeral was held. And what a sad funeral it was.

B-Rocka’s mother, Tameeka, was completely distraught at the church. She wailed to painful volumes and even laid out over the body. His imprisoned father was able to view his body minutes before the service began. The sight of a black man shackled from wrist to waist to ankles as he quietly sobbed over his son’s dead body had me swallowing back tears. It was an intense service to say the least. The entire time, Rut sat tall and thick in one position next to me. His long arm rested on the back of the pew behind me and one leg lay over the opposite thigh. He only brought the one leg down twice the whole service.

The food I made was here when we arrived after the service. Apparently, Fats had someone run it over during the funeral. Rut only introduced me to his mother, grandmother, and B-Rocka’s mother.

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