False Intentions (False Series Two) Read online

  © 2016 A. Cramton

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Editing by Katrinna Craig and Kathleen Payne

  Book cover designed by Melissa Gill from MGBookCovers & Design

  Formatted by Formatting Done Wright

  To my readers who took a chance on me. This is for you.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  I Wanna Benz- Yg ft. Nipsey Hustle, 50 cent

  No- Meghan Trainor

  Down in the DM- Yo Gotti

  Take a Hint- Victorious Cast

  Take Your Time- Sam Hunt

  Queen of Disaster- Lana Del Rey

  wRoNg-ZAYN

  You’re Such A- Hailee Steinfeld

  Thing for You- PARTYNEXTDOOR ft. Bryson Teller

  Diet Mountain Dew- Lana Del Rey

  Bad For Me- Megan & Liz

  One Dance- Drake ft. Kyla & Wizkid

  Yoga- Janelle Monae

  Exchange- Bryson Tiller

  Fire Bomb – Rihanna

  Jet Black Heart – 5SOS

  All In My Head- Tori Kelly

  Sex Ain’t Better Than Love- Trey Songz

  Last Kiss – Taylor Swift

  I hate u, I love u ft. Olivia O'brien – Gnash

  Battlefield – Jordin Sparks

  Love Don’t Change - Jeremih

  It Won't Stop ft. Chris Brown - Sevyn Streeter

  THat Part ft. Kanye West - ScHoolboy Q

  Love Don’t Change - Jermih

  Dangerously in Love – Beyonce

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Revenge.

  That is what has been on my mind for the last three months.

  I lost my belt.

  I lost my girl.

  I lost my agent.

  One chump from the slums took all three. I hate him. I loathe him.

  Yoel ‘fucking’ Gonzalez.

  Setting my glass of whiskey down, I pick up my cell and scroll through my contacts.

  Hitting call, I put it to my ear.

  “Tim. I want a re-match. Make it happen.” I hang up and stare out the large window in my condo.

  I want everything back.

  I’m going to take everything back.

  I Wanna Benz- Yg ft. Nipsey Hustle, 50 cent

  Four months later…

  I hate my father. He’s been riding my ass ever since I lost the fight months ago. He wants me to come work for him now that my ‘phase’ is over. I worked my ass off for that belt, and now I’m just supposed to move on like it was all a game? No way. I might have a law degree but boxing ran in my blood. It’s my life and my parents will never understand.

  My father thinks I’m wasting my life. He says I’ll end up brain damaged by the time I’m thirty-five. I’m twenty-nine and I’m in the best shape ever. I spend my days in the gym dodging reporters. Apparently, my sweet ex- fiancée has been talking about private matters. Madison walked out of my life nine months ago; she left me and walked right into my opponent’s arms. Son of a bitch.

  Now I’m here at my parent’s dinner table sitting across from a Madison look-alike. Why my mother thought this was a good idea or, let alone, picked this girl, is beyond me. She might look like my ex but she acted like Karen, you know the airhead from that movie Mean Girls? In other words, she’s a ditz.

  This is my last night in L.A. before I head to New York to continue my training for the rematch. Spending my last night at my parents on a blind date is not my idea of a good night.

  Becky. Beth. Fuck, I don’t know her name. It’s something with a B. Anyway, whatever her name is keeps winking at me. What are we? Twelve?

  “Have you given any more thought to joining the firm, or are you still pretending to be a boxer?” Disgust laces my father’s voice before he takes a sip of his wine.

  I glance at him, forcing myself not to roll my eyes. My father is an asshole. People think I’m an asshole, well, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

  “Nope.” I tighten my hold on the neck of my beer bottle. I don’t usually drink while I’m training but being here, I have to.

  He grunts. People say I look like him, but I don’t see it. I have my mom’s blue eyes and brown curly hair that I keep cut short and edged up at all times. I’ve been called an Oreo plenty of times. Black dad and a white mom. My skin, the color of caramel.

  The only thing we have in common is our attitude. My father has countlessly cheated on my mom. You would think I would have wanted to be nothing like him, seeing my mom cry in her room alone, popping pills, but, no, I was just like him. That’s why she left me.

  “So, what are you two getting into later?” My mom forces a smile and looks to what’s her name and me.

  She starts to answer, but I cut her off. “I’m meeting up with Yakko and Jax.” Not a lie. I’m supposed to be meeting them at Playhouse in a few hours.

  Mom shoots me a look. “I thought you were going to take Alexandra out.” Oh, that’s her name. I wasn’t even close.

  Alexandra bats her fake lashes at me. Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

  “You know, Mom, I would love to, but I already have plans.” I look to Alexandra. “Maybe when I get back.”

  She nods. “I would love that.” Her voice sounds like a bag of nails. Holy shit.

  My father frowns but doesn’t say anything as I scoot my seat back and stand up. He has never approved of my friends or my choices so why should I stop disappointing him?

  “Well, it was great seeing you guys.” I nod to Alexandra. “Nice meeting you.”

  I kiss my mom on the cheek. “Love you.”

  She pats my cheek. “I just want you to find someone. She’s not returning,” she whispers in my ear.

  I just smile and pull away from her. They think Madison is no longer in the picture also. I have to get her and my life back. There isn’t another choice.

  I give a final wave before walking out and sliding into my beloved black Range Rover. Checking my phone, I see Yakko has texted me saying that they were already in the club.

  Grabbing my black leather biker jacket from the backseat I slide it on and adjust my fitted Dodger hat before starting the car. I need to let loose tonight, then I’ll deal with little Madison later.

  There’s a line wrapped around the block when I pull up to Playhouse. Paps are scattered around the front entrance. I’m tempted to swing around back…but fuck it. I can’t hide forever, right?

  The valet guy rushes to my door and opens it up. He doesn’t even acknowledge who I am, which I appreciate. I can’t stand when people treat me differently. Madison never treated me differently.

  Madison hates you. Same Same.

  Tiny is at the door tonight. Why they call him Tiny is lost on me. The guy is taller than me and weighs at least three hundred pounds. His dreads are pulled back, and he has on his bitch face. He eyes my hat as I walk up. I know the rules, no hats in the club, but, I’m Marcus fucking Wellington.

  He just shakes his head and lifts the red rope. I ignore the yelling of my name and the flashing cameras as I walk through.

  The love of my fans has never wavered. Even after I lost the fight or when the article came out about my infidelity.

  Rihanna’s new song Work is blas
ting as I make my way through to the VIP section. Girls are pulling at my arm and others are smiling at me, bating their fake plastic eyelashes. I give them a small smile but don’t stop. For the first time, I just want to hang with my boys and have a few drinks before I block everyone out. I lost because I was too cocky. Not this time.

  Yakko is standing by the rope waving his hands at me. He is one of my best friends since high school. He brought me in when no one wanted to talk to me. Let’s just say, I wasn’t always popular. I never fit in with the kids at the private school that I was shipped to. Yakko was there on scholarship and was bussed out from Compton. He’s the most real guy I know. I was bummed not to have him in my corner for my last fight, but he had a game the same day. Yakko plays for the Los Angeles Lakers.

  “Dude, where the hell have you been?” Yakko leans in to do the secret handshake we've done since high school. Madison always said he looks like that guy from Creed, Michael B something.

  “Having dinner with the parents.” I shrug sliding behind the rope. He winces, he knows how my parents can be.

  Jax nods at me, his floppy brown hair covering his eyes. We’re quite an odd group, always have been. Jax is the stoned surfer of the group. His parents are celebrity doctors and, just like my dad, they are disappointed in his career choice. Jax is a history teacher; he has loved history for as long as I’ve known him. His parents also weren’t to please when he came out the closet after graduation.

  “You need a drink,” Yakko decides for me, signaling the waitress, who smiles wider once her eyes land on me.

  I notice two girls sitting across from us. One blonde and the other a redhead. I usually go for the redheads, and this one is sexy as hell with shiny green eyes, but a glint of gold fabric catches my attention from behind her.

  Across the VIP section, is a group of girls talking amongst themselves. I zero in on the one in the short gold dress. The dress hugs all of her curves and stops right below her perfect ass. My eyes travel down her golden tan legs to her feet that are in a pair of strappy heels. I could already imagine those heels pressed against my chest as I make her scream my name. When I look up at her face, she’s already looking at me. Her dark eyes are framed with darker lashes that match her dark hair that stops at her waist in soft curls. Her lips pull in a slight smirk before she looks back to her friends. It’s not until a strobe light hits her that I see the tiny crown sitting on her head.

  Birthday? Bachelorette? Please be your birthday.

  Someone nudges me. “Here drink up.” Yakko hands me a glass and forces me to look away from the dark goddess. He notices. “She doesn’t look like your type, besides I called dibs before you got here.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You can’t call dibs if I wasn’t here.”

  He smirks. “Don’t you have a fiancée to win back?” He takes a sip of his drink. “Rumor has it that he proposed.”

  It wasn’t a rumor, but I don’t tell him that. My mom called me as soon as she heard, of course. The prick had proposed.

  “Since your dibs doesn’t count because I wasn’t here, I’m going to go and talk to her.” I give him the biggest smile when he frowns. Taking a gulp of my whiskey, I push the glass back into his hand and make my way across the small space. Her friends see me first and their eyes widen as I approach. Yeah, I’m a big deal and females know this. I’m about to make her night with my presence.

  “Hey, I saw-“ I start but am cut off. Her dark eyes give me a quick sweep.

  “I’m not interested.” She tilts her head away from me and starts talking to her friends again, who are now giving my pitiful looks.

  I open my mouth to say something, but I’m stuck. Did she just dismiss me? No, there’s a mistake. She did not just dismiss me as if I was no one.

  I look back at my friends to confirm what just happened. By the look on Jax and Yakko’s face, I know that I was just dismissed.

  “I said I wasn’t interested.” She’s looking at me like I’m deaf.

  My first reaction is to say something rude but I’m trying to be a better person. She clearly is sheltered, that’s what I’m telling myself.

  Turning on my heels, I stalk back to a laughing Yakko and Jax. This shit is not funny. I have never been turned down before. Ever. Girls flock to me.

  She has to be into girls because how the fuck is she not interested?

  “Shut up,” I grit as I take a seat next to the redhead. She’ll do for now.

  No- Meghan Trainor

  Marcus Fucking Wellington.

  I have never seen him other than on the TV, so seeing him now was a shock. Him approaching me was an even bigger shock, did he not know who I was? The look on his face when I dismissed him was even better. He’s used to getting women to fall at his feet, well, I’m not most women.

  Soon after he went on his way, I see him leave with a redhead. My sister-in-law mentioned how he usually went for the redheads, but then why was he trying to talk to me?

  It’s almost three when we get back to the hotel room. We have been out celebrating my twenty-first birthday at Playhouse. Thanks to my big bro, my girls and I were showed the way to the VIP section.

  “I can’t believe he actually tried to talk to you!” London flops on the bed next to me, her brown curls fall on my lap. “You didn’t even give him a chance.”

  “Why would she?” Angel starts to wipe her makeup off. “Are you going to tell your brother?” She looks at me through the mirror.

  I think about it. Should I tell him? I think maybe I should keep that to myself for now. My brother pretty much raised me, and he is very protective, too protective at times.

  “Nope.” I pop the P. “He doesn’t need to know.”

  Slipping off the bed, I change out of the tight dress London talked me into wearing and change into my PJ’s. After washing my face and pulling my curls into a knot on my head, I slip under the sheets.

  I can’t help but go back to remembering the shock on Marcus’s sexy face. There is no denying that he was one fine male. His blue eyes stand out against his lite brown skin, giving him an otherworldly look.

  “He’s hot.” London lies facing me.

  “He’s okay.” I shrug closing my eyes.

  “Seriously, he’s gorgeous,” Angel agrees with London.

  I ignore them. He might be hot. He might even be gorgeous but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s Marcus Wellington.

  My brother’s biggest enemy.

  Shit, I’m going to miss my flight. Damn London and Angel for making me go out for my birthday when they both knew I had an early flight the next day. I literally only slept five hours before my alarm went off. Thank goodness my suitcase was already packed.

  Now I’m speed-walking to my terminal looking like a bum. My hair is barely brushed into a now lop sided bun on my head and my outfit is laughable. How I managed to match pink joggers and a lime green hoodie is beyond me. Let's not even get started on the purple chucks that I’m wearing. The only thing I have going for me is that my phone and iPad are both fully charged.

  Adjusting the strap on my bag, I come to a slow walk as I approach the gate. It’s pretty empty, but the gate agent is still taking a few more passengers and I know I’m not too late. I really didn’t want to hear my brother’s mouth with this raging hangover. I just want to sit back with a cup of orange juice and watch Twilight.

  The gate agent doesn’t even blink at my bright attire as she scans my ticket and smiles. “Enjoy your flight.”

  I make a mental note to thank my brother for getting me a first class seat so that I don’t have to brave coach. I quickly look at my ticket for my seat number before stepping on the plane. The flight attendants smile at me as I pass them and start checking the seat numbers. When I spot my number, my heart stops in my chest.

  You have to be shitting me. I think as soon as I make eye contact with my seat neighbor.

  “Well, hello there, ‘I’m not interested.’ We haven’t officially met, I’m Marcus.” He smirks, his blu
e eyes don’t move from my brown ones.

  Fuck my life.

  I ignore him and quickly slide past his legs, not caring that my ass is in his face. I can’t believe I’m stuck next to him on this flight. My first reaction is to see if I can sit somewhere else, but I already noticed that first class is full, and I refuse to let his unwelcomed presence run me to coach.

  The feel of his stare is burning a hole in the side of my face as I slide my bag under my seat, and then text my brother to let him know I made my flight.

  He chuckles but doesn’t say anything to me as the flight attendants give pre-flight instructions and we start to taxi out. I stare out the window as the plane lifts off the runway leaving Los Angeles behind us.

  “So, are you just going to ignore me?” His husky voice breaks the silence.

  Ah, and he speaks an hour into our six-hour flight. I glance away from my iPad to him. His blue eyes study me.

  “You talk as if we actually know each other,” I snip. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but I have to nip his flirting at the bud.

  His full lips pull into a smirk. “I told you I’m-“

  “I know who you are, and I’m not interested.” I look back to my iPad quickly trying to sync my headphones to it. Why aren’t they working? Then it hits me that I forgot to charge them. Groaning, I frown and turn my head to look out the window. This is great.

  Something tickles hand and, when I swat it away, I feel a small cord. I turn my head toward it.

  Marcus is holding out a pair of red headphones. “You can use mine.” He smiles.

  “I’m fine.” I go back to looking out the window.

  “Pull the stick from your ass,” he says quiet enough for only me to hear. “You're not interested, I get it. Just use them.” The headphones drop in my lap.

  I ponder this for a few moments. Should I use them or not? If I refuse them then he really will think I’m a bitch, which I want. If I use them then he’ll think he might have a chance with me, which he doesn’t. No matter how gorgeous he is.

  Instead of throwing them back at him, I plug them into my iPad and pull up Twilight in my movies. Edward always makes me feel better. If I wasn’t so tired, I would read the book instead, but Robert Pattinson isn’t bad to look at either.