Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
This might be the biggest mistake of his life, and he had no doubt he’d regret it later, but he was out of options. He needed someone to bring Trent back to him before he lost his mind. Someone who knew him well and would know where to find him. Either man he called was gonna tear him to shreds, so he just freaking dialed.
Mike picked up on the second ring. “This better be good,” he grumbled sleepily.
“Trent’s gone.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Trent
“Look who finally figured out how to bring his ass home?” Roderick said, climbing his massive body off his stool and wrapping Trent in a fierce hug.
Trent embraced his old friend with a few hard slaps between his shoulder blades. He stepped back with a sad smile that he fought to hold in place. “What’s going on, Roderick? How you been, man?”
“Not bad,” Roderick said, wheezing a little for breath as he settled back on his stool in front of the club he’d been bouncing at for over ten years. “I lost roughly sixty-five pounds since last summer.”
Trent’s brows rose to his hairline. Roderick had battled with his weight since Trent had known him. “Good for you, Rod.”
Roderick rubbed his round stomach. “Only three hundred more pounds to go.” He laughed loudly.
Trent stepped to the side so Roderick could ID a couple of pretty women coming to Mamas to enjoy the adult atmosphere, live music, and the best soul food in Hampton Roads. The girls asked if Trent was coming inside after giving him a bold observation.
“I plan to.” Trent answered with zero feeling.
Roderick unhooked the black velvet rope and waved them inside. The girls disappeared behind the thick wooden door. A slow, bluesy saxophone melody filtered outside, making Trent starved to be someplace that felt like home. Where he believed his life had begun and changed forever.
“I see you’re still easily pulling the ladies, Trent.” Roderick grinned. “Even when you were a freaking bad-ass teenager, snooping around backstage, the servers always fell all over you.”
“Ah man.” Trent waved Rod off, remembering the fond memories. “I’m just here to listen to some good jazz and maybe get a plate of Mama’s smothered porkchops.”
Roderick closed his eyes and licked his lips. “Oh Trent. I’d just take the gravy with a few slices of bread, man. That’s all I’d need to be happy.”
“You want me to sneak you a plate like old times?” Trent laughed.
“Shit. Mama’s got cameras all over this place now. If she catches me cheating again, the next knot on my head will take twice as long to heal,” Roderick told him, his big smile dwindling as he continued. “At forty-eight, I really need to take my high blood pressure and diabetes more seriously. Doc says I gotta get more weight off my heart. And Mama’s been making sure I stick to it after my last episode.”
Trent sighed, wishing he’d dropped by and checked on his friend more. Well, Roderick had been Miles’s friend, but the moment he’d started bringing Trent with him to the club, he and Roderick had clicked pretty quickly. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t sweat it. We all can’t be cool-as-fuck, skinny white boys that know jazz better than Gillespie himself.” Roderick knocked him on his arm.
Trent let out a genuine laugh, remembering how they all used to sit around after 3:00 a.m. when cleanup was over and Trent would listen to the old heads talk about music for hours. Miles would sometimes let Trent in the front of the house after they closed since he was only a teen and it was illegal for him to be in a nightclub.
A tall man with deep brown skin and slim dreadlocks that touched the center of his back came out the main door wearing a tailored suit and stopped in front of Trent. He extended his slim hand. “Trent, right?” The guy smiled, and he went from good-looking to fine.
Trent was too tired to overanalyze how little attention he’d paid to the women earlier—none—and the details he’d immediately noticed about the man in front of him. Everything. “Have we met?” Trent asked while gripping the guy’s hand.
“No.” He continued smiling and assessing. “I’m one of Mama’s many adopted sons, Marcus. She sent me out here to get you.”
Trent tucked both hands in the pockets of his leather coat after their introduction. “How’d she even know I was here?”
“Mama knows everything.” Marcus laughed a rich, baritone sound that reminded Trent of one of his favorite instruments.
Roderick winked at Trent and nodded toward the video cameras mounted above the door.
“She wasn’t sure you were going to come inside, so she sent me out here to make sure you do.” Marcus opened the door and waited for Trent to walk in before him. He did a quick glance around wanting to see any new changes made to Mama’s, but not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. However, that didn’t appear to be an issue because Marcus commanded attention when he moved.