Violation (26 page)

“You don’t have to change. I like you the way you are.”

“Right, I’m a mess. I made your life a mess.”

“No matter what I said when I was mad I didn’t have to sleep with you. I thought about it but I didn’t have to do it. It was the best thing I ever did. I have you. I have a baby on the way. These are the things that I’ve always wanted.”

“You always say the right thing. If you just go in there tomorrow and tell them how much you want to stay with the Cavs, they have to listen.”

“I just want to finish this season. I just hope to make it to the end.”

“You will.”

She believed in me and somehow she made me believe in myself. I felt a hole in my heart that could never tell her about. I missed Dee. Knowing our friendship was over was like a death in the family. Serena had years to fall out of love with him. I didn’t get that. I still cared about him. I didn’t want to hurt him. He was a part of my life.

The sit down was the next day. Things had to move fast because we had another game tomorrow. We had to bring our representatives. I was told Deshawn would be there. He had to show up and I did too. This was a mandatory sit down. We were supposed to be clearing the air but who knows what other tricks the Cavs organization had up its sleeve.

I was nervous to see Deshawn after he attacked me in the locker room. I was also pissed at the way he treated Serena. He locks her in the bathroom and makes her take a pregnancy test. On the other hand, I may be somewhat relieved. It’s out. No more sneaking around, no more hiding.

The conference room was dark mahogany wood. The walls were shiny and clean. The plaques on the walls and art were symbols of how prestigious it was to be associated with this team. I signed my first contract with the Cavs in this very room. This room was gold to me. Today it felt like cold steel.

Deshawn was already sitting at the conference table. He was dressed in a suit. His suit jacket was draped over the open chair to his right. I walked in with my sports agent. My agent wasn’t too happy with me. I told him the entire situation and he wanted to yell at me but he knew better. I was his primary high profile client. He needed me. He assured me I would make it out alive. He told me I had a plethora of teams interested in signing me.

Deshawn’s sports agent was beside him. The team’s owner was at the head of the table. Kozlowski was one of a few people with ownership of the Cavs but he had the majority invested. He was the spokesperson, decision maker and muscle.

“Noah have a seat,” Kozlowski ordered. I sat opposite Dee. My agent Pete Carlson sat down next to me. I looked across the table at Deshawn. He refused to give me any eye contact. I looked over at Kozlowski. His face was made of stone. No emotion whatsoever. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Had Dee already talked him into benching me for the rest of the playoffs? Was I going to be suspended? He wouldn’t do that, would he? Has anyone ever been suspended for having sex? Even the player’s accused of rape still play until there are actual charges. My sexual encounters were consensual. Did Coach Tucker tell Kozlowski I made a baby? My head swirled with the possibilities.

I started to overheat, sweat formed under my armpits. I hoped it wasn’t noticeable. This was my career.

Kozlowski cleared his throat. “Look fellas, I want the players to clear the air first before we get down to business. This is Deshawn and Noah’s time to say what they need to say to one another. No holds barred. Talk this shit out. If anybody gets physical at this table you will be suspended for the duration of the season. There was already a physical altercation. Now it’s time for words. We are all professionals at this table. Noah do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Deshawn.”

“Uh-huh.” Dee rubbed the stubble on his chin but still refused to look at me.

“Somebody say something.”

I felt compelled to go first. “Dee, I want to say I’m sorry. I’m man enough to take responsibility. I apologize. I was wrong.”

Dee finally glared across the table at me. “Save your bullshit apologies. How’s your eye?”

“My eye is black.” I smirked. “It’s not bullshit. I mean every word.”

“Right, right. I look at you and all I want to do is smash your face. You used all my secrets against me like a fuckin’ punk-ass bitch.”

I knew it was best to be quiet. What was I going to say to him? I can’t defend my actions.

He glared at me like I was his arch nemesis. “I want to know what I did to you. Did I have too much money, too many hoes? What was it that made you decide you were going to screw my wife? ... Talk motherfucka!”

“You didn’t do anything. It was all me.”

“Na’aw bitch it had to be something that I did to make you say, I’m going to fuck this man’s wife.”

“No I swear it wasn’t like that.” My emotions started bubbling inside my chest. I felt my eyes watering. I refused to punk out.

“I see why they call you No-Hart. You are a Hart-Less bitch!”

I felt my lips quiver and the tears escaped as I tried to hold it together. Was I really crying in a room full of men?

“Fuck you and your bitch-ass tears! You ain’t got shit to say? No-Hart what the fuck man?”

“Dee, I’m sorry. It was me. I did it. I came at Serena.”

“You came at my wife?”

“I did.”

“Right, when you always turning bitches down. You have more control over your dick than any man I’ve ever seen.”

“There was alcohol involved.” Sure that was true but I was sober enough to make my own decisions. I would say anything to diffuse this situation. So lying was an option that I was willing to use. “I got her really drunk and it happened.”

“Yeah your fucking dick fell into my wife.”

“She was drinking.”

“But she didn’t say no.”

“She was drinking.” I wasn’t sure why I said it again.

“Bullshit!” I searched the faces of everyone in the room and everyone was stoic. “She was drinking every time. You insult me with this bullshit. How many times?”

“What?”

“How many times you fuck my wife?”

I threw my hands in the air. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ serious. How many times?”

“I don’t know. I was the one that started it. She got sucked in. You shouldn’t blame her.”

“You defending this tramp bitch. She told me you’ve been fucking the whole season. Is that shit true?”

“Don’t do this.”

“Do what? Be honest. You say you’re sorry. You say you apologize.”

“I am. I do.”

“Well stop fuckin’ my wife and we can move on, finish the season and win the Championship.”

Hell no! “What?”

“You heard me. Stop fucking my wife and we can go back to the way it was.”

“You know we are beyond that point.” Was he serious? “Dee man, I love you. You are my brother.” I could barely get the words out.

“This ain’t no brotherly shit you did. You fucked my wife like she was your damn wife. You knocked her up. Bro’h what the fuck is wrong with you? I’m a fucked up person but you are far beyond fucked up. Am I supposed to care about your weak ass apologies? You’re not my damn brother. You’re a lying motherfucka. You and that slut are both liars. She saying it’s her fault. She seduced you. I should forgive you. You are both lying to me.” I hadn’t realized she talked to him.

“Yes I was lying to you. I crossed the line. I should have never betrayed you. I’m sorry.”

“Nah you could suck my dick. You are dead to me.”

“Tell me what to do Dee? I want to win this shit with you.” I waved my hands across the table. “I want to be by your side on that court like always.”

“You sound like a damn dummy. I will run you over before I play on the same court with you.”

“You don’t even love Serena.”

Dee scowled across the table and I thought he might stand up. Kozlowski leaned into the table as a warning. “I don’t love my wife but what, you do?”

“I need a second chance.”

“To what, fuck my wife again?”

“Dee, you win. I am the worse friend in the history of friends. I know that. Everybody knows that. We’re men. You’ve seen me at my best and this is me at my worst. I’m begging you to give me a chance to help take us to our third championship. I’m not asking for anything after that. I just want to help you win this.”

“Fuck you. My ass is sore from you fuckin’ me in it. Fuck you. Everybody at this fucking table watch your wives. Noah has his two-faced backstabbin’ eyes on them.”

“I don’t have a wife.” My agent said and kind of chuckled. No one really thought it was funny. He was gay.

Dee turned to his agent and waved across the table. “Look at this motherfucka right here.”

“Enough.” The owner Tom Kozlowski stood from his chair at the head of the table. “Okay I understand this is a delicate situation. I know the facts. You both are valuable to this team. Noah says he’s sorry. I want to win another championship and I know you both do too. DeShawn, do you want a three-peat?”

“I don’t really care.” Dee blurted and got the full attention of his agent. I knew he was just being a dick. He loves basketball just as much as I do.

Kozlowski placed both his hands in the table. He gave us all his this is serious business look. “Deshawn, you have one year left on your 70 million dollar sneaker contract. This win will guarantee a new deal. Do you want to go down in history with Michael Jordan or do you want this scandal to hit your bank account? You have a ton of endorsement deals waiting for you as soon as you touch that O’Brien trophy. Noah has apologized. I heard he owes his shiner to you. Very nice, very appropriate but I don’t give a pig’s ass about your wife. I love my wife guys I do but if I had to loan her out to my brother, father or best friend to make over 100 million dollars then I’m going to pack her bags give her a kiss on the cheek and send her on her way. My wife would understand. I would let you both tag team my wife if it meant we would win another Championship. She would do the same for me and I would understand. She would take one for the team. You two are exceptional players on my goddamn team. You fought like men but this is a business. I make money. You both make money. DeShawn, Noah, you have a legacy to protect. This is what you write about in your autobiography. That’s after you retire, get old and bored. Right now, we win championships. We don’t have time for this right now. We only have time to win. You are my sons and I’m trying to protect you both. This is an in-house issue. Noah is an asshole. He was a dick. We all acknowledge this but he has personally promised he will stay away from your wife. We need you both to kiss and make up. Dee, if you win this without incident that will be an extra 3 million to you. Noah we are offering you 1 million to stay away from Serena Jones for the remainder of this season. The baby isn’t due until after the season is over. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Hart, I’m not asking you to abandon your kid. I’m asking you to stay away from Serena Jones for the reminder of the season and to keep your hands off DeShawn. No public verbal altercations and of course, no physical ones. We are all businessmen at this table. I need your decisions within the hour. The contracts are drawn up and ready. Go over them with your agents and let’s make some real money. I need two signatures to make this happen. We have a game tomorrow. I expect you both to be on the court.”

Mr. Kozlowski left us alone at the oversized mahogany table. DeShawn glared at me as his agent looked over the contract. My tears had long dried but I wasn’t sure if he was going to go for it. He didn’t need the money and I didn’t either. We were millionaires more than a few times over.”

“No-Hart, are you going to stay away from my wife?” Dee’s voice didn’t have any form of feeling, not even anger. His tone was matter of fact.

“Yes.” A lie. If I sign the contract it would be a show of good faith. It may help me stay on the team for next season. There isn’t that many games left especially if we blow out Washington. We had already made it through the first round, the semifinals. This was the eastern finals. It’s not that long. Serena will understand. I hope.

“I need you to disappear from my life after this season is over.”

“I will.” A lie. I’m not going anywhere.

“Me and you, we only fuck with each other for basketball and Cav business.”

“I’m cool with that. I want us to win.”

“There is no us.” He was right. Our friendship was over. I could clearly see that now. I don’t know why I thought he would get over it.

I looked at my agent. He slid the contract over to me after he went over it.

“Mr. Hart. It’s good.”

I took the pen from his hand and scanned some of the words. I signed my name on the dotted line. I looked across the table. Dee had been watching me the entire time.

He raised his pen off the table and signed his contract. He slammed the pen down and shoved his contract over to his agent. “I need a moment alone with him.”

Shit. He meant me. I think he was supposed to punch me before we signed our names on the dotted line. Our agent’s didn’t budge. They just sat there looking at each other.