Our Reckless Hope (Muted Hoplessness Book 3) Read online

  Our Reckless Hope

  Love Belvin

  MKT Publishing, LLC

  For Cousin Connie & Lynda, my “Diva.”

  Soar.

  You’re at home now.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  ~epilogue~

  Visuals

  ~Love Acknowledges

  ~Other Books by Love Belvin

  ~Extra

  Copyright © 2020 by Love Belvin

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidences are fictitious and a product of the author’s imagination.

  Cover design by Visual Luxe

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter One

  -Now-

  We landed in Kamigu at an airport which was nothing more than an open field with a single, modest sized-building. Then we were quickly transferred into jeeps; our luggage following in a van. The ride turned out being nearly thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of my restlessness, wondering if this trip was the right decision. I could have interviewed Tori on U.S. soil and skipped her training for this fight. But no. The curious journalist in me had to gain a keener insight into this undisputed and awfully bizarre marvel.

  The twenty-two hour flight was tense. I didn’t want to run into Tori, and it was clear she didn’t want to see me either. We managed just fine as I stayed at the front of the jet, using the same restroom as the pilots. Antsy Keyonna meandered toward the back a few times, just to stretch her legs. Other than swearing to having tempered eyes on her by a few in Tori’s entourage, she didn’t complain much about the energy. That was to be expected, I knew. So I didn’t trip.

  Finally, we passed through opening gates. Armed guards were near large, black SUVs. Soon, a village-like setting with small homes came into view. They were huts of varying styles and colors. A few residents could be seen in their yards, some even grilling. There were two children walking a dog on my right, and an older woman airing out an area rug. Most waved, friendly and inviting as the sun set beautifully ahead. After another half a mile, the terrain turned into a resort-like setting.

  The jeeps split with mine going right and a couple going left. We stopped in front of luxury bungalows.

  “Mr. Spencer,” Taja, the driver, called out in a thick accent. “You and Ms. Lee are staying in this two-bedroom unit. Natalia there will show you around your quarters. Your luggage will be delivered to you momentarily.”

  As I assisted Keyonna off the jeep, I nodded. “Thanks, Taja.”

  “My pleasure, sir. Enjoy your stay!”

  As he took off, having others to escort to their bungalows, a rhythmic sound hitting the sanded floor caught my attention. Just before taking off for the entrance of the villa, a lean, feminine body sprinted past us. Tori wore a hat with her hair in a ponytail, bouncing in the air. She was in full running gear with her face low and attention internal.

  “We just got off a twenty-two hour flight, and she has the energy to run?” Keyonna trilled.

  Before I could answer, someone else yelped, “That’s right, champ!” A short, Hispanic man I’d seen on the jet called behind her while scrabbling with a small camera and a phone. His stride was broken, telling of his unpreparedness. “Straight off the G550 and into warrior’s mode!” He tottered behind her.

  Then there was a chocolate, short woman, heaving with a tight face after them. She stopped almost in front of the bungalow. Her hands slapped her kneecaps and clutched for dear life.

  “Fuck that, man! After that long ass flight, I can’t fuck with Tori’s moody ass,” she swore, out of breath.

  Then her eyes met Keyonna and me as we stood confused by this whole fiasco.

  “Damn,” the woman hissed. “Y’all act like you ‘on’t know what we came all the way out here for.”

  Keyonna looked at me and I her. Then, as though of one mind, we both turned for the villa. A gorgeous woman with olive skin, long silky hair down her back, and chiseled cheeks awaited us at the door. There was a twinkle of wicked lust in her eyes when our appreciative regards met.

  “Welcome, Mr. Spencer and Ms. Lee.” She beamed while giving a slight curtsy. “My name is Natalia. Welcome to my home. I’d love to show you around your villa. It will be your home while you’re here.”

  Keyonna gave her back to the stunning hostess and warned, “Peep the wedding band and act accordingly.”

  I growled at her, pretending to attempt a bite of her index finger in my face. “Ms. Natalia,” I called out while peering into Keyonna’s tired eyes. “Please. Show away.”

  “Just calling to check in before I get my day started.”

  I glanced around, observing the calm sky’s orange, yellow, and purple hues, remembering we were twelve hours ahead of him. My heart rate had just stabilized after a long run on the peaceful beach of Kamigu.

  “How’s New York?” I countered.

  Thomas sighed deeply. “Nothing terribly exciting here. I have Lucinda with me, and she’s biting at the bit to get back home.”

  “I guess that’s something we have in common.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I scratched my head, feeling guilt when gazing out at the setting sun dancing on the rippling water. This place was too majestic for me to feel so peeved.

  “What I mean is I should not have come out here. I could have easily done the piece from home. I believe Tori lives on the East Coast like me. I should have worked around her schedule instead of opting to fly out to Kamigu.”

  “You’re in Kamigu. I’ve flown in for a day to attend a birthday celebration there. How could you not be in your glory, son?”

  I stopped, eyes closing to reel my temper in. “It’s been three days since we arrived and I haven’t been able to get one word in with her.”

  “Is she refusing to cooperate?”

  I nodded with too much enthusiasm. “I would think so.” Then I took a deep breath. “Listen. Apparently, I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have taken this project on knowing the history I have with Tori.”

  “I patently disagree, sir. I believe you’d be the one to have Tori McNabb reveal a degree of honesty most cannot.”

  “When? On the plane ride home?”

  Oh. I forgot. I’m not allowed outside of the first quarter of the cabin!

  “No. When you harness the professional mien you have and demand to be respected as a journalist, I’m sure you’ll get what you need.”

  As I approached my bungalow, a feminine figure sat on the step of the entryway.

  “Yeah,” I sighed when seeing the woman wasn’t my Keyonna. “I’ll try that on for size and see how it works. I’ll be sure to keep you posted.”

  “I look forward to it, Spencer.” There was a counsel in his tone.

  I dropped the phone
and gaped at the woman, my head to the side. She lazily smoked a cigarette, dark hair in her face, and lips a natural dark shade as she peered back at me. The rolls in her abdomen were thick and pronounced from her lazy posture. Her hair was voluminous and wild, almost as long as what I remembered Tori to have.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  “I’m sorry to say I do not.” The only recollection I had of this woman was her heaving when trying to catch up with Tori’s manic run the first day we’d arrived on the island. “How would I?”

  “’Cause you came to my momma’s trailer to pick up Tori on Thanksgiving night back in the day.”

  That stunned me. I’d forgotten all about that. Didn’t know how I could. It was my first time in a trailer park. I thought it was a euphemism for a low class of white people. Imagine my surprise to learn it was where the tomboy I’d been obsessing over had been born and raised.

  “You’re…” I thought for a second or two. “Remada?”

  She shook her head, holding a pocket of nicotine smoke inside her mouth. I waited until it pushed from her nostrils and lips. “You mean Renata.” Oh, yeah. That could be the name. “That’s my sister. She back at home. I’m Treesha.”

  Oh…

  “And you were there that night I picked Tori up?”

  “Like a pussy fiend.” She plucked her ashes into the bushes next to her.

  My head swung to the other side, brows knitted. “I hadn’t fucked Tori.”

  “Well…” She tossed her head in a shrug. “We all know that eventually changed.” She placed the cigarette to her mouth again. “Right?”

  “I’ll let her fill you in on those details. In the meantime, you can tell me why you’re here.”

  She snorted, cigarette hanging conversantly from her lips. “You was fine as fuck then, but you’s a sexy ass muthafucka now. You still rich?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  Treesha scoffed. “My nosy ass. But not like that; you off limits, bro. It’s just…” She pulled from the cigarette, eyes plunging toward the ground. “I’ve always wondered about you.”

  I switched weight on my legs. “Why?”

  She didn’t speak at first or for a while. “Because that uppity Black school changed Tori.”

  Blakewood?

  “Positively, I hope.”

  She shrugged again. “Mostly. But it fucked her up, too.”

  That gave me pause, my response rolling out slowly. “What’s fucked up about Tori McNabb?”

  Treesha flicked her cigarette onto the ground, stood, and squashed it with her flip flop. “I said too much. I ain’t the one being interviewed here.” The muscles in my face relaxed. “I only came to tell you tomorrow’s your day to ask her whatever shit you wanna ask her.”

  “When?” I asked as she turned away.

  “She’s up at a quarter to five to start her training. You can slip in the gym around one. She’s gonna cut her day short for you.”

  Tori’s cousin didn’t wait for a response before ambling off.

  As I ascended the steps of the dimly lit dining area, immediately, I noticed how sparsely filled the place was. That was but for the copper toned feminine stature in the far left corner. She sat stock-still, wonderfully postured at a table topped with a small floral arrangement, tea-light candles, and a tumbler one-third filled. Her impassive attention was locked onto me.

  “A one-on-one with the champ without her handlers,” I muttered. “This trip may be salvageable yet.”

  Her eyes followed mine, sweeping against the Mauve again. “Your little girlfriend arranged it after your controlling hissy fit earlier at the gym.”

  My brows raised, begging her pardon. When Tori’s hard gaze didn’t relent, I pulled out the chair and took a seat.

  “My little girlfriend. Predictable,” I scoffed, nodding. “Regarding my assertion earlier during your training session, that was not what most would consider a hissy fit so much as it was a demand of professionalism. I came to Indonesia to do a job, too.”

  Her head shook softly as she peered me deeply in the eyes. “Nothing trumps my training.”

  “But this trip was scheduled for Tyler Thomas,” I argued. “Foolishly, I haven’t changed the itinerary. Thomas would have never begun his work with you in between you sparring with a man who looks to have just completed a fifteen-year bid in a state penitentiary. I value my work, just as he does.”

  Earlier today, when I was told I was scheduled to finally speak to Ms. McNabb, it was not the early ending of her daily training session as Treesha described. It was actually a break in between, where she sat down with me in the corner of the makeshift boxing gym the resort put together for her. Tori was sweating and out of breath, sitting across from me while hydrating. I was told we had twenty minutes before her workout resumed.

  Offended, I stood from the table and refused the conversation. Tori watched mutedly as I spoke to one of her handlers about rescheduling a dignified time when we could speak without distraction. Tori didn’t utter a word, and after a few pleas from her on-duty public relations person, I walked out. An hour later, Keyonna came out onto the deck of our villa to tell me Tori and I would be sitting down here, in the main cafeteria, to begin the interview. I didn’t envision us being alone.

  I pulled the recorder from my pocket and placed it on the table. Using my eyes, I guided her attention to it. “I’m sure you’ve been made aware of the method by which all of our exchanges will be noted.”

  Tori’s arm swept up from beneath the table, revealing her own tape recorder. “Oh, absolutely.” Her tone was firm, though soft.

  I nodded.

  Touché…

  Tori didn’t trust me, and I honestly didn’t give a shit. I’d been in investigative and feature writing journalism for a few years now. I can’t say that all of my subjects were thrilled to share with me. So, I tapped my recorder and issued a nod to Tori, inviting her to do the same. Without wasting much thought measuring her energy, I decided to get started. The questions I would lead with were meant to flatter and disarm. Icebreakers were paramount.

  “From the first day of your training, I saw the kids from the island were in the gym. I was told you were explicit in your demand to allow them free access to the facility.”

  Blinking successively, Tori’s eyes fell to the table, telling of her lack of preparation. She was jarred, but visibly struggled to regain the control of her steed.

  “Yeah. I’m a visitor in their home. I’ve come here for the beauty and isolation of it; why shouldn’t they have access to the benefit of me being here?”

  Nodding, I loaded my follow-up question. “So, why are you here? You can train virtually anywhere on the planet. Why come to Southeast Asia to prepare for a fight?”

  Tori nodded, ready to answer. “Well, this is a special fight to me. Monica and I have been circling each other for years, examining and flexing. She’s a heavyweight, and not a priority to reset my regimen for. Aside from that, I’ve had a few opponents I felt I needed to defeat before manipulating my weight to engage her. Gaining weight while conditioning can be a challenge. Monica’s fast and a smart boxer. I needed a place where I could wake up to stable conditions and the people project positive energy.

  “A trusted spiritual advisor recommended Kamigu. It’s…” She rubbed her hands together then gestured to the caressing mild winds, the applauding palm leaves from countless branches, and the brilliant celestial bodies winking down over the resort. “…heaven here on earth. I was told it was sanctified and consecrated. This is where I need to be to prepare for the biggest fight of my career...”

  My brows met when her intonation changed. I’d taken a sip of my drink, warming into what had begun to transition into an amenable exchange. Tori’s attention was on my mouth. I realized I’d licked my lips and quickly hoped I wasn’t loud with swallowing, not that I could imagine how she’d hear such a distinct sound from across the table. There was no music playing in the dining room, but the collective sounds
of the ocean and general village around us created an audible backdrop. Rolling her eyes away, she shook off her thoughts.

  “Words—at least not mine—can articulate the power beneath soil that bubbles over the island and water, encapsulating harmony.” She nodded, biting and pulling on her bottom lip.

  Immediately, I was tossed into a trance of yesteryear where that single act was the most revealing—unknowing—communication of hers. Casually, I attempted another sip of my Mauve.

  “So, this spiritual advisor was correct.”

  Affirmatively, she gave a single nod. “Clearly.”

  “Is this your first time in Indonesia?”

  “I’ve been to Bali two or three times. Last year, I was at a wedding on Gili Air island. It’s beautiful.” I nodded myself, appreciating that fact. “Some of the best fresh seafood cooked over hot coals. Have you been?”

  “I’ve not. No. A business associate—partner, actually—goes regularly and has been imploring me to give it a shot.”

  Tori shrugged, but not in the empty sense I once knew of her. She was simply expressing indifference. “Not my ideal vacation spot, but it’s certainly beautiful.”

  “What is the ideal getaway destination for a Tori McNabb?” Then I thought to amend. “For the purpose of understanding your appreciation of Kamigu, of course.”

  “My ideal place is for personal mental escape,” she made clear. “My appreciation of this island is for professional retreat. They’re two very different things.” Tori was prefacing her answer. “I’m more of a cold climate retreater.”