Unfortunately, this highlighted just how deep the bruising was coming down the sides from her inner eyes.
Also unfortunately, but in the end it worked in his favor, she was in enough pain, halfway into Monday Night Football with him and Shaw, she took a pill from the prescription they got at the hospital that they filled and she passed out with her head on his thigh on his couch like she had the night before.
So she slept in his bed.
And he woke up with her there too.
So yeah.
It worked in his favor.
And even better, when he dropped her in her kitchen the next morning, she didn’t even blink walking over the threshold.
So it was all good and Hix rode that high to the department not knowing it wouldn’t last a full day.
But now there was Greta and Hix’s journey of discovery.
So he would learn he was set up to deal with the hitches in goodness.
Because he was unblocked on her phone.
Put Me to the Test
Hixon
THE NEXT NIGHT, while Greta was with her at-home client doing a wash, rinse and set (whatever that was), Hix was walking into the high school’s basketball court in order to watch his daughter play volleyball.
The minute he walked in, his eyes went to the team benches to see his daughter in her red and black Raiders uniform with its long sleeves, too tight shorts, black knee pads at her knees, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, standing with her coach and the rest of the team.
He felt his lips form a grin.
A grin that died immediately when Hope materialized in front of him.
He stopped dead because she was blocking his way.
“Hix, we need to talk.”
He blew out a sigh and asked a question he knew the answer to because they’d been in Hope’s care for only a day and he’d seen one of them with his own eyes, “The girls okay?”
“Yes, but,” she got closer and her expression changed to one that Hix had to work hard not to let annoy him, “they, well, they shared that . . . that . . . that woman spent the night at your apartment while they were there.”
Hix stared down at her.
“You know that isn’t right, Hixon, you know,” she hissed under her breath.
He continued to stare down at her.
“The girls also told me the unfortunate event that took place that was the reason she was at your house, but it’s not like the woman doesn’t have friends,” she carried on.
Hix said nothing and just kept staring down at her.
“If you must see her, don’t shove her in the kids’ faces,” she ordered.
That was when Hix sidestepped her and walked right by her, along the front of the bleachers, knowing eyes were on him.
His were on the wall at the opposite end where Toast had his back to the cinderblock, the sole of his boot up against it, arms crossed on his chest.
This was the position he’d assumed when he came to watch his daughter play volleyball (that was how he and Hix had become friends, their daughters played sports together) shortly after his own ex made it impossible to sit in the bleachers without her finding opportunity from close proximity to harangue him.
When Hix’s back hit the wall at Toast’s side and he assumed the same position, Toast muttered, “Hate to say it, but welcome to my world, brother.”
Hix just emitted an unintelligible grunt.
“Let me guess, she’s pissed your woman stayed over,” Toast deduced.
“While the kids were there,” Hix confirmed.
“No, bro, she’d be pissed even if they weren’t, just gives her more ammunition that they were.”
Hix made no reply, just kept his attention on his daughter and her team.
“And heads up, they lose all rationality, they lose hold on your dick and some other woman is enjoying it. It doesn’t matter to her your woman got attacked. But the looks she’s gettin’, it matters to everyone else,” Toast told him.
That made Hix slide his eyes to the bleachers and it wasn’t hard to read the censure Hope was getting as she made her way to a seat.
It also wasn’t hard to read she didn’t miss it either.
Fortunately, his attention was taken with his younger daughter skipping his way.
“Hey, Dad,” she greeted, stopping toe to toe with him, bending forward so she hit him with her weight, resting the length of her along the length of him, her hands on his forearms, her head tipped back to grin up at him.
“Hey, baby,” he murmured, uncrossing his arms to touch a finger to her nose.
“Can I have popcorn?”
Oh shit.
“You ask your mom that?” he asked.
Her expression told him the answer.
“Mamie,” was all he said next.
She scrunched up her face then slid to the side, but twisted as she did, so she ended up with her shoulder tucked into his side.
He ran a hand around both and held her there.
“Your brother here yet?” he asked, again scanning the bleachers.
“He’s goin’ to pick up Wendy then he’ll be here,” she told him.
“Right,” he muttered.
“Hey, Uncle Toast,” she belatedly greeted.
“Hey there, gorgeous girl,” Toast returned.
“You want some popcorn?” she asked and immediately offered, “I can get it for you.”
“And eat half the box before it gets here?” Toast asked.
She gave him a sassy smile. “Sometimes they don’t fill it full.”
Toast pushed away from the wall to pull out his wallet. “Then I totally want popcorn.”
“Toast,” Hix warned.
“What?” Toast asked with sham innocence. “I had dinner all of fifteen minutes ago.” He gave Hix’s girl a bill. “I’m feelin’ peckish.”
She shot him a huge smile, grabbed the money and took off.
“More knowledge, brother,” Toast began as he settled back in. “You got the opportunity to fuck with ’em or piss them off in any way, you take it.”
“Hope doesn’t exist outside being the woman who my daughters go live with every other week, man. But she likes to find every reason she can to remind me she does. I’m not a big fan of giving them to her.”
“She doesn’t exist?”
“Nope.”
“Lookin’ right at her, bro.”
Hix took his attention from the court where the girls were heading out to look at Toast and then follow where his eyes were directed to see Hope sitting in the stands, watching them.
She no longer looked pissed.
She looked sad.
Christ.
Hix returned his attention to the players and said nothing.
“She wants you back, Hix, and bad,” Toast shared.
Hix said something to that.
“If that’s true, that’s not gonna go well for her.”
“This other one, you know . . .”
His voice died away so Hix looked to him. “I know what?”
Toast looked uncomfortable when he said, “It’s been a while for you but you should know, you don’t play with that kind.”
“What kind?” Hix asked, wanting to know where this was going so he knew whether he was about to be pissed as shit or other.
“The good kind, Hix.”
So it was other.