~8~

 

The next morning, constant muffled noises roused me from my sleep. The sun was up and shouting; I could hardly open my eyes from its bright rays. My mouth was dry, tongue pasty, rubbing against the roof of my mouth. And on an itch, I felt the crust at the side of my mouth.

Did I drool? Ilk!

It felt like I’d just gone to sleep. Memories of last night came rushing in and I tried turning for Jemah. We had a flight to catch this morning, and I couldn’t afford to be late for it. Only, on a gentle swing of my arm, I didn’t feel the soft flesh of a petite woman. My hands brushed over silky hairs covering a plank of muscle. A man?

My torso leaped around so I could see.

“Teke, what the fuck!” I demanded.

He lay with his head at the foot of the bed and his feet to the top; the opposite of me. And it seemed he limited himself to the lower right quadrant, nowhere near me. His body jerked then he turned over his shoulder and with squinted eyes peered over to me. I noted right away he was dressed like last night, just as I was. But when the fuck did he get in the bed?

He smiled through his morning slant spell. “Morning,” he mumbled.

“Where’s Jemah?”

“In her room.” His head turned back and he began to get up, sitting on the side of the bed, and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Where she slept.”

“I thought Irv took the Indian girl in there last night.”

“That party wasn’t supposed to last until the sun woke up, sweetheart,” he jeered.

I wanted to ask him why was he in the bed, but sensing his sarcasm, I knew he’d resort to the fact that this was his bed and I should be lucky I wasn’t asked to sleep on the couch. Maybe I’d expected him to sleep on the floor, which was unreasonable. This was his room. Instead, I grabbed my phone for the time and saw it was dead. 

Fuck…

I stood from the bed, straightening my dress. “What time is it?”

Teke stood to his feet and searched for his phone. He held it in his hand. “Battery dead.” He wiped the cold from his eyes, reminding me I needed the bathroom.

He went to the wall on the other side of the small room and plugged his phone in. I didn’t wait. Needing to distance myself from him, I headed to the door. It opened just as I’d made it.

Irv stuck his head inside. “Shit…” he uttered, appearing just as out of it as Teke. I stopped, taking a deep breath, and covering my swollen, crusty morning face. “I was just coming in here to make sure you was up, bro. We leave in thirty minutes.”

Fuck!

I brushed past him and marched straight into the living room where I’d left my luggage before the bar. Thankfully, it was in the same place. It took three minutes to extract the few things I needed for a shower and to get dressed. As I approached the bathroom, Jemah was coming out, wrapped in a towel.

“Thanks for not waking me when you crept out for your bed,” I hissed on my way into the bathroom.

“Huhn? Teke woke my ass outta my sleep and kicked me out. I had to sleep with fartin’ ass Irv all night,” she tried explaining.

I had no time, so I closed the door and got started reviving my mind and body. Fifteen minutes later, I was out and going back to my luggage to pack up again. Everyone was moving about the place, packing, surfing for last minute grub to soothe their grumbling, liquor ailed bellies.

“The van’s outside,” Rico yawned, dragging his things into the living room.

I was zipped up and glancing around at what I had to lug. “Shit,” I grumbled when I grabbed my phone, forgetting I hadn’t charged it.

I knew I was fucked because when traveling with a group like this, a charger was like a bag of crack in a trap house. Everybody would need a charge. Then the airport… I could forget about getting a full battery until I landed on the other side of the country. That could be bad for when I needed to communicate to Ivie for my pickup.

There was no time to stress over it, people began piling into the living room to go. So, I grabbed my things to hit the door.

“Yo, a tricked out Bentayga out there,” Rico called out, stepping back inside.

“Prolly somebody L.I.T. sent to lock up the place,” Jon explained on a mumble, on his way out the door.

Steve came out of nowhere and grabbed my largest suitcase without words. He circled around and caught Jemah’s, too, just as she stepped into the living room. And that quickly and mutedly, he was out the front door. Jemah sent me a soft blush before she followed him. I regrouped, rearranging the luggage I was left with. The moment I stepped toward the door, a heavy arm landed on my shoulder. Alarmed, I glanced up. It was Teke masked in sunglasses.

“That bad?” I asked, uncomfortable from the weight of him.

“You have no damn idea,” he mumbled. “Just wanna rewind the clock back twenty-five minutes when we were in bed.”

Before I could correct him, we were in the doorframe, trying to squeeze through.

“You know…” I tried, “this would work best if you let me go.”

Teke’s head lowered and a sleek grin formed. “Never…”

We managed and made it onto the small porch. Midway down the stairs, I froze.

Apparently, everyone else who had made it out before us did, too. There, parked square in front of the house, was a luxury SUV. Standing outside of it was a familiar burly figure, holding the back door open for another tall, thick frame I’d become conversant with.

Next to me, Teke steeled, too, his weight no less heavy on me, though. The passenger door opened and Lil Bruh stepped out.

“Yo, Lady McKinnon, you need me to handle that for you?” With a crooked smile, Lil Bruh tossed his chin somewhere low on my person.

My eyes followed his line of vision to the carryon suitcase I held in my right hand. My brain was too fuzzy to answer, especially when Ragee’s empty eyes pinned me where I stood. Lil Bruh didn’t wait on an answer. He sauntered over and retrieved the suitcase from me. Steve approached the trunk with my larger one he’d taken.

Finally, Raj blinked, and his eyes smiled without his mouth. That ironically awakened my need to greet him. With a push of his arms, I left Teke’s hold and ambled over to Raj. His eyes never left me.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered, not wanting anyone to hear.

His eyes roved from my head to my mouth twice before his smile extended to his face.

“You love asking me that, don’t you?” his tone just as gentle. “I’m bi-coastal…international. You ain’t know?”

I didn’t find it funny. “Why are you here when I’m leaving to go home?” Wherever that was.

He pulled the duffle from my shoulder. “I came to take you home.” His volume thicker. “I tried calling all morning for you to get ready.”

My eyes closed then rolled beneath my lids. “My phone’s dead. I didn’t know you were in town.”

“Been here since last night. Wanted to give you your last hurrah with ya peeps,” he offered too amiably.

I tried snapping out of my stupor by shaking my head. “I was about to catch a flight. We’re on our way to the airport now. I pai—” that’s when I remembered I never paid Teke for the flight. I didn’t get a chance to hit up an ATM machine.

I turned to him and saw, just like everyone else, he was watching our exchange raptly.

I faced Raj again. “I forgot to pay him for my ticket. He ordered it with his for me.”

His brows dropped, almost as though he was genuinely concerned. “How much was it?”

“Five-eighty, I think.” My hand going to my forehead. I couldn’t fucking think! I drank a lot last night, woke up in a strange man’s bed, hurried through a shower, and found my estranged husband on the doorstep behaving eerily calm. “Teke, five-eighty. Right?”

Teke smirked then nodded.

Sounds of movement in front of me had me turning to face Raj again. He pulled out a wad of cash and counted out several bills before handing it to me.

“You ain’t flying commercial, Mrs. McKinnon. Not to get here to work and not to get home.” He handed me the money.

I turned and lifted it for Teke, struggling with Raj’s big presence. The only time I’d seen Ragee, the star, was at his concert last fall. He was larger than life and dripped aristocratic quality. I wasn’t used to this. When we were alone, he was just Raj…Gee-Gee, a moody asshole who could fuck like a god. That’s not what my contemporaries here knew of him. To some, Raj was a legend in the making. A young O.G. in R&B, and an accomplished artist and entrepreneur. I knew what held their gaze and curiosities. I just couldn’t grasp my role in maintaining their expectations now that he was here in the flesh.

I backed up a few steps, holding the money out to Teke. He began his way over to me, his million-dollar smile in tow.

Not now, Teke. This is weird enough…

But the Teke I’d gotten to know never turned off the arrogant swag. I didn’t know how that would bode with Raj.

“You good, shawtie,” he declined with a smirked. “Take that and buy your next Groupon.” Teke’s hand lifted, and the moment it neared mine, his torso folded toward the ground.

“You got your feels already, son-son. Don’t fuckin’ touch her again,” Raj growled.

Teke was mushed so fucking hard, he almost went south. I sucked in a breath and before I could turn around fully to address Ragee, his hand was at my lower back as, simultaneously, someone pulled at my wrist, almost yanking me forward. As my body propelled, I caught Teke’s rebound, catching himself and his face turned red and hard.

“Yo, Teke!” Someone barked from behind him.

It was a warning cry as desperate as my heart rate had amplified.

But Teke didn’t react to it. Instead he steadied himself and growled back. “The fuck you doin’, man?”

Jemah shrieked a cry as I was thrusted behind Lil Bruh’s frame. I peered around it and saw before Teke could cock his slender arm back, Raj had hit him with two swift jabs, knocking his sunglasses clear from his face. What began in what felt like slow motion, ended on fast forward. The back of Teke’s head went south while his chin flew into the air. Blood squirted from somewhere and spit flung laterally.

“Aye, man!” Irv jumped toward Raj.

“Ain’t nothin’, mufucka.” Danny G approached, ran up on Irv, who recoiled with his hands in the air blocking his face.

He knelt to go to Teke, who was laid out on the ground in an awkward position. Jemah screamed in horror, and Steve ran toward Teke. Jon turned away, holding his head, and shouting something about warning Teke.

“Let’s go,” I heard calmest from this melee.

It was Raj, taking me by the hand. I couldn’t turn away from them. Jemah was now being comforted by Rico as she, too, grabbed her afro and cried.

Before I knew it, I was shuffled into a luxury SUV, smelling of new leather and doors were closing all around. I faced forward, eyes peering over the blank television screen in the headrest in front of me. We pulled off in silence and not too long after, music began at a high volume, drowning out the echoing screams of Jemah and Jon in my head. I don’t know how long we drove, my mind ran with a playback of what had just happened.

“Time to get out,” was murmured next to me.

I glanced to my right and saw Raj, standing there in dark sweats rolled to his bundled calf muscles. A familiar long aircraft with G550 printed large on its wing came into view behind him. When had we stopped? As I stood from the SUV, I saw his pecs push through the heather gray, short sleeved cotton t-shirt with Ase Garb printed across. He held his hand out for mine. I couldn’t even look him in the face, infuriated by his mere presence. He took the hint and led the way to the steps of the jet. I followed on his heels not giving eyes when I returned greetings from the air staff.

Once inside, Raj took a seat and extended his long legs to place his feet in the chair facing him, stretching back as though he was legitimately exhausted. I plopped down in the one across the aisle from him with my arms crossed, but eyes surreptitiously following him. His triceps bunched as he extended his arms back in the air. Then he brought his hands in front of him and I didn’t miss when he examined the swelling of his knuckles. Raj grumbled something then shifted back in his seat and closed his eyes.

Lil Bruh boarded with Danny G behind him.

“I think you need this.” Danny handed me my purse and dead cell phone I must have dropped during the fracas.

I almost thanked him until I remembered he was complicit in what was clearly an ambush on Teke. Me, too! Almost immediately, we prepared for takeoff, buckling into our seats. When in the air, I was offered a beverage and/or refreshments, to which I declined.

“Get her a peach bellini,” Raj ordered from across the cabin with closed eyes.

“Right away,” the steward agreed and took off.

“I don’t want a drink.”

“It’ll relax you,” he continued to speak with closed eyes as his head faced me.

The bare skin of his thick neck exposed the movements of his throat.

“I think you’re about to do enough resting for the both of us.”

“Well, I deserve to.”

That comment seized my words at first.

“What?” I finally asked.

“What?” he answered with.

Ragee was too calm. Too fucking far removed from his actions less than an hour ago. Who was this man and what the hell did he want from me?

“I can’t believe you fucking did that!” I screamed. “Are you fucking insane?”

“Why I gotta be insane?”

“Because he’s harmless!”

One brow lifted. “You think?”

“We’ve spent the past three weeks together as a group. Of course, he’s friendly. What’s wrong with that?”

“The fact that the nigga wanna fuck you ain’t enough?”

While seated, my fists hit my waist and head slanted. “What makes you think he wants to fuck me, Raj?”

“This!” His arm came flying toward me, holding his phone to my face. It took me a few seconds to read it, but I did. “Oh, shit,” spilled from my lips in a whisper.

It was two nights ago, when he came for me out on the beach. Teke took a picture of me from behind, sitting on the sand and looking out at the water. The caption read: Next move. Wynterland.

Right away, I went to my phone, foolishly needing to see it there. The moment I picked it up I remembered it was dead and slammed it back down on the table.

“It was a post and delete,” Raj grumbled, sitting back in his seat. “You ain’t gone find it. That’s shit he be on, but you on some ‘we a family’ trip.” He snorted, looking the other way.

“Why the hell do you even care?”

His head swung over to face me. “I fuckin’ pour my heart out to you in Phoenix and you ask that dumb question?”

“You love me?” My laugh was dry. “Really? You love someone you put out of your castle”—My arm swung in the air—“on a fancy carriage and write them off with no explanation? I know you got a lot of shit with you, but I hate to tell you: that ain’t a demonstration of love, honey!”

“You don’t know what I feel!”

“But you say it’s love?” I screamed. Raj’s face tightened. “Then you can keep that mercurial bullshit and end this like your cousin wants to. I’m good from here, buddy. I made damn sure since you sent my ass packing. Pretty sure I’ll be offered a contract within the next week.”

A bitter chuckle spilled from his lips. “Oh, you’ll definitely be offered a contract. That’s for sure. And it’ll be a lot fairer than ya people’s back there.”

I leaped in my seat at that implication. “What?” Was he saying… “Oh, no! You can’t even get that. I busted my ass in this program. I came with work and was recognized for my talent! You may not have had the time to teach me the basics of composition and production, but they did, and I learned and contributed. I met super powerful and accomplished people who affirmed my gift. Fuck you and your tenured ass arrogance, Mr. Ragee!” I spat so hard I was out of breath.

Raj’s brows met, he cocked his head to the side, and clear was the humor in his eyes. He spoke evenly when he shared, “You think you completed L.I.T. Music’s boot camp on the merit you didn’t get into it with? You think you staying in the master suite of the ranch in Arizona and not at the same crib as the others in L.A. was conceived by…” His head swung, asking, “…Jackson Hunter?”

Inside I recoiled. How did I not think he had a hand in keeping me away from the other candidates?

“So you called in a favor to have me sleep in isolation! That has nothing to do with what I was able to bring to the table using my talent.”

“Talent?” he scoffed.

“Yes. God-given fucking talent! Ain’t that something you know about, church boy?”

“Oh, I do. But talent alone don’t get you a seat at the table amongst the most talented musicians, singers, composers, and engineers in the country. You know that Steve dude did the vocal arrangements on Destiny’s Child’s last studio album? He wrote on Brielle’s last project and helped with the vocals, and he’ll be getting writing creds on Rhianna’s up and coming?” He lowered his chin. “She bought like three songs from him. Not to mention the green-eyed bandit and his crew opted to push back their first world tour while they’re popping like hot grease just to do this program. That’s how lit L.I.T. Music label is right now.”

“And I performed well at it!”

Raj snorted, head turned to the window to the right of him as his hand grazed his unkempt beard.

“Nah, sweetheart. You were given special attention because of who you share a marriage license with. Fuck Lord, because he’s my friend. Of course, Jax, Dave, and them was gonna make sure you got special attention. You forget they want me over there at L.I.T.?”

My head shook ferociously. “No!” I didn’t want to give this to him.

“Wynter, you really think you survived that without influence? Who the fuck gets to sit with Diane Roberts and hold her attention past, ‘Hello, I gotta book of poems’?” He laughed menacingly, cutting me at the core.

Just like that, cock-ass Ragee, the accomplished R&B thug was back. And out of nowhere a surge of rage I’d only seen from my male clients manifested. I was on my feet then on him in two point five seconds. I lashed my arms, smacking and punching him wherever I could get a lick in. I screamed, grunted, and plowed away. The only man who could elicit such annoyance from me was Van, the only man on Earth able to affect me deeply, and I’d never struck him. Never ever had I been this angry in my life, neither had I been a violent person, yet this was the second time I felt a rabid desire to hurt him in a way I could see him feel it.

I could hear voices of alarm around us but didn’t care.

“You can take it all back!” I screamed as he lifted from the chair with my legs wrapped around his narrowed waist and I pummeled him. “I don’t need shit from you! Take back your little necklace…your credit card…your fucking name!”

“Wynter, man, please!” I heard while being extracted from Ragee. “Grab her leg from behind!”

As I yanked his hair, frustrated by his perfect blocking of his face, I felt my leg being pried from Ragee’s ass. The moment I straightened it to ease the pain from someone’s hand, I was yanked from Raj’s frame. He came into sight, barreled over, covering his face, arms thick and wide, viral like the fighter he was. Only he was in defensive mode.

“Hit me back! Someone who’s expecting you!” I kicked my legs in the air.

“Get the fuck outta here, Raj!” I realized was Danny G, holding me forcefully as I twisted and yanked fruitlessly in his fold.

Ragee’s head came up and the horror-stricken, betrayed expression flashed in his eyes.

“C’mon, man,” Lil Bruh advised as he gently tapped him on the arm. “Give her a minute. Y’all need to chill!”

I don’t know how long Raj stood there gaping at me, not out of breath or hardly physically distressed as I was. His eyes examined me as I carried on, tiring myself out.

“Wynter, if you don’t calm down, the captain gone get involved. He can land the plane and delay us, man.” I’d never heard the degree of tenderness in Danny’s voice as he’d just given. 

As I watched Raj slowly turn and head to the back of the plane, exhaustion fell upon me and my legs stopped thrashing in the air. When I stopped, I realized just how breathless that moment of craze had left me.

“You good?” Danny asked. I nodded. “You ain’t gone shoot back there like a bat outta hell when I let you go, is you?”

I shook my head, feeling a fresh cascade of hot tears fall down my face. The moment he released me, I limped over to my seat, throwing my head down on the table in front of me and bawling my eyes out.

The door to the truck closed and we pulled out of Teterboro airport. I sat still, thinking…wondering. Wynter and I stayed separated the whole flight. I couldn’t sleep, became restless since she blacked out on me. I tried to center myself while in the back. I prayed and got easily distracted. Started harmonizing in my head, which was how most songs began for me. But every time someone walked up toward the front of the plane, I’d stop to watch and listen for her.

Now, we were back in Jersey and where I’d hoped we’d stay together until we could figure out our next move. That was before she stepped out of the house with Teke’s arm around her shoulder, kee-kee’ing it up. Having to see them around each other on social media was a different experience than the real deal. My initial plan was to fuck with his money by talking to his bosses about his contract. But all that changed when I saw his hands on Wynter.

My consequence of losing my cool was not knowing where we’d end the day. I could say I was sorry, but I wasn’t. I could tell her it would never happen again, but that wouldn’t be accurate. I could kill that boy with no effort. He played me, crossing the line with my wife. There was no way I could turn a blind eye to that.  

But I had to tell Danny G, who was driving, where we were going soon. That meant I needed to man up and speak to her.

After two minutes of contemplation, “Wyn—Wynter,” fell out hoarsely.

She turned to me, face swollen and eyes red as she sniffled. I didn’t know what to say. Never was it my intent to hurt her…before she tried to talk crazy about not needing me. Before flying out, I told myself even if she admitted she slept with old boy, I’d at least know she did it out of ignorance.

Then I’d snap his neck…

Exhaling, I went back to my window, gazing out at nothing.

“I’m so glad this is over,” she croaked, fighting back a cry. My head jerked back to her. “I can’t do it anymore.”

My damn heart shattered to pieces. I felt it.

This ain’t happening…

It couldn’t be. No way was I letting her go. I don’t think I ever could—even if I didn’t know exactly what the hell to do with her. But I couldn’t let her sense how wounded I was by her attempt.

“It ain’t over.”

Her mouth fell open, she gasped. “How you figure? Mike’s dead.” I turned back to the window. “My agreement was with him.”

“Wish it was that simple.” I couldn’t return her glare.

I was too busy thinking of my next move.

“What?”

I took a minute, but eventually turned to face her. It was a bad move. Wynter’s face tremored like she fought to not cry. I had to see this through. Being without her wasn’t an option.

My mouth opened before my brain kicked in. “Before he left for his trip in January, he had all business of the matter of Ragee McKinnon transferred over to me in the event something happened to him. It’s called something like ‘in absentia’ or something. His lifestyle had been…high risk lately. I’d been making him sign temporary deals and legal matters concerning me over to my legal team until he’s back in the country for a couple of years now. I hold your agreement with him.” Slowly, I shook my head. “It ain’t over until I say it’s over.”

Her stark brown eyes fell. Wynter turned to face the window as she stewed on the news I made up as my words spit out. She hated me. If she didn’t after I knocked out her little heartthrob crush, she definitely did now.

“I won’t go back to Sparta.” She shook her head, though all I saw was the back of it.

“I didn’t expect you to,” I lied. Again.

She turned to face me again, her head shooting so fast. For the first time since I laid eyes on her today, her eyes sparkled with hope. That brought back that pain in my chest. Her not living with me in my home made her happy.

My lungs were paralyzed longer than I thought I could stand. I felt so dizzy, my eyes closed to keep me from throwing up.

I swallowed hard, needing to stay on top of this. Lying wasn’t a game I had to play when it came to my personal space. I never shared it. And now I wanted nothing more than for my wife to dominate it. I wanted this “thing” between us. I tried breathing slow when I finally could again so she couldn’t hear how affected I was.

“You’ll stay at the apartment in Jersey City. Keep your car. That’s where you’ll be dropped off.”

“Alone?” her voice hiked. “Will I stay there alone?”

“Yeah.”

“What about my things?”

I shrugged another lie, making it seem as though I didn’t care. “I’ll have them packed and shot down to you tomorrow.”

Slowly, Wynter’s head turned again toward the window. I could tell she was hurt. There’s no way I could have been so physically connected to someone as I’d been her and not feel it for her.

“Van has court in the morning. I’ll need transportation by nine.”

I shifted away from her. “Your car’ll be in the garage before midnight.”

I stopped speaking before my fronting came crashing down.

Completely and utterly drained. That’s how I felt when I lifted my head from the dampened polka dot pillow. My brain felt fuzzy, too. I was cold, still in my clothes. I could feel the toe of my pointy pumps poking the mattress-top comforter. I hadn’t changed by the time I passed out from emotional despair.

What time is it?

From the warm hues permeating the windows, I could tell the sun was setting. It wasn’t incredibly late. I patted the mattress for my phone. My stomach growled as if on cue. That’s when I remembered I hadn’t eaten since yesterday…afternoon.

Damn…

After a long flight, Raj dropped me off to his apartment in Jersey City alone. I was so angry when I arrived here, I stamped my way to the only room I really knew, lugging my suitcases. I threw myself on the bed, and cried my eyes out some more. I swear, I caught the fucking crying bug three weeks ago and it hadn’t lessened in intensity over time. It was utterly annoying and draining me to the point of exhaustion, which is likely how I’d fallen asleep after plugging my phone into a charger.

My phone was lit with heavy activity while I slept. Amongst the gazillion alerts, I saw it was just after six in the evening. Then I decided to catch up on the notifications, remembering my phone was dead since waking this morning. Thank goodness I thought to kill the ringer; I would’ve been awakened not long into my nap. There were missed calls from Ivie, Wanda, Mya, my old boss, Laura, and...Teke. He called multiple times.

My head throbbed a little and I wasn’t in the headspace to begin apologizing for my husband’s truculent behavior, though I’d soon have to. Right now, I needed to wake my body and mind: refresh. A shower was in order. Brushing my pasty mouth, too. With a hefty strain, I pushed myself from the bed. When I was on my feet, wobbly, I kicked my heels off and shed myself of my clothes before heading for the bathroom I barely recalled.

After my shower, I felt slightly rejuvenated, but my empty belly roiled angrily. I tossed on hot yoga shorts and a tank. And because there was a chill in the place, I tossed on the purple hooded chenille robe I’d left behind in December. Its pretentiousness had Myisha written all over it. As I finished rubbing lotion on my feet, my phone lightening caught my attention. It was Jashon, a name I hadn’t thought of in what seemed like forever. Loaded with curiosity, I decided to take the call.

“Hello...”

“Mrs. McKinnon?”

My eyes squinted and neck lurched back, confused. Jashon never called me anything but my first name or “Bacon Double” because it was my favorite at B-Way Burger and I’d made so many runs there with him and Myisha last fall.

“It’s Wynter, yes.”

“Hi.” He stalled for a moment. “Ragee asked me to check in on you to make sure you’re settled in your apartment.”

My apartment?

“I’m fine, Jashon,” My words spilled slowly. This felt weird as hell. I wanted to end this call soon. Jashon was Myisha’s assistant. I wanted nothing to do with her, even indirectly. “Thanks for asking. I just woke up and I’m cold and starving. I was just about to go—”

“The fridge is stacked. I saw to it myself. The place was cleaned recently. The cleaning staff must have set the temp low to save energy. There’s a thermostat near your old room and another one just inside the master suite. The one near your old room is down the hall, next to the laundry room. Do you remember where—”

“I remember just fine.” I rolled my eyes, recalling it was two doors down from Myisha’s room. It also felt like he was fishing to learn which room I’d settled in. “I should be good from here. Thanks, Jashon.”

He hesitated again. “Okay. Please let me know if you need anything. I’ll be glad to help.”

“Bye, Jashon,” I called the conversation to its end.

“Have a good evening, Mrs. McKinnon.”

As I tried to think of a sharp response, two things happened. Jashon hung up, and I realized there was little chance Myisha would have me referred to as anything remotely close to family to her or her cousin by her staff. Something was weird. I was just too drained and too hungry to try and figure it out.

I found myself dumping my phone into an oversized pocket and heading out of the room to find that damn thermostat. When that mission was accomplished, I wandered into the kitchen, struck by the quietness of the place. I spent weeks here, virtually alone, while Raj toured last fall, but this felt different. It felt sterile, but in a not so bad way. Just...weird.

The dual-chrome-colored room shared the same hues as its counterpart in Sparta, but it wasn’t as vast. It wasn’t filled with kitchen gadgets like the other either because it wasn’t furnished with a world-class chef. Here, Ragee and his crew were on their own. At most, Charlee, the cleaning lady was around, keeping the place tidy. I silently wondered if that were still the case now that I’d been demoted back here—voluntarily.

I shook my head, toeing toward the refrigerator. Before I could even open it, I noticed from the glass doors it was stacked with fresh vegetables, water, fruit, and other necessities. Jashon hadn’t over-exaggerated when he said it was stacked. Even the freezer had meats and frozen yogurt. The more my eyes roved over tasty ingredients I could use to whip myself up something good, the more anxious and exhausted I felt. I didn’t crave anything I saw. What my body and mind craved was something I hadn’t had in months. Something fat and greasy and indulgent and horribly unhealthy. I wanted a break from my new diet.

I closed the door and leaned back on it. My heart raced and head throbbed. What the fuck was I doing here? How long would I stay? This was not my home. It was not an option for a place to plant my feet. I needed to be settled into a place I felt safe and at home. This apartment wasn’t it, no matter how lush and contemporary it was. This was Ragee’s home. And Myisha’s. How long would it be before she came here and started throwing her weight around?

Teke…

My entire frame tensed to a knot-like strength. The consequences of my rash actions of marrying a stranger then fucking him had caught up with me. And I was powerless to minimize the damage. I had nowhere to go and no one to talk to about it. The friendships I thought I began out on the West Coast were done at this point. No one would want to work with me now. This could get depressing very quickly; I could feel it. As I sucked in a breath, Grandmother McKinnon’s words echoed in my mind out of nowhere.

“Every step you made in life up until now has been orchestrated by Him. …not only does our God love you, the time for Him to reveal His purpose for your life is upon you.”

Trying to breathe my way through avoiding another emotional breakdown, I scoffed, guessing this was another one of her off psychic predictions. No way that magical, life-shattering miracle could come behind this. No way my decision to marry her fucked up grandson could bring about anything real as I thought before he sent me packing three weeks ago. But it was all good. I wasn’t quite sold on her either. His abuse happened under her roof. Myisha’s, too. Something about that didn’t sit well with me since I learned all of this.

I slapped my face into my palms. Why was I thinking about those two? When would I ever learn?

The unusual sound of a bell startled me. It was the elevator, alerting me of someone coming up. Slowly, I settled on my feet and left the kitchen. On my way down the long hall, I wondered who would be coming here? No strangers or uninvited guests could get past the front desk, much less the penthouse elevator. It was attended by security all times of the day. Who in the hell could this be?

I ambled gingerly toward the main foyer and all of my breath left my lungs at the sight of the brightest rays of sunlight I’d seen in weeks sauntering out of the elevator.

“Heeeeeeey!” the pair greeted with big smiles, volcanic pitches, and raised bags of my favorite greasy cuisine.

I stopped, but they continued the long space between us. My face folded, and I croaked out impending emotions.

“Shit...”

“Now. Wait now!” Ivie moved in to grab me.

“What the hell, Wynter?” Little Mya wrapped her arm around my waist.

I dropped the box of B-Way Burger fries on the table and sat back, chest heaving, telling me to slow down and catch my breath.

“That was every fucking thing,” I murmured, chewing the last in my mouth.

“Okay. Can we now go for that tour?” Ivie grumbled as she paced the only interior wall of the solarium.

She then turned to observe me over her shoulder. Mya, across from me, swiped her nervous eyes from Ivie over to me.

“Maybe we should find out what’s wrong with our friend before we go voyaging through her home.”

I shook my head and mumbled, “It ain’t my home.”

Ivie turned completely to face us as my eyes swung over to the New York City skyline behind me.

Mya gasped. “Why would you say that, Wynter?”

The nightlights of the City across the water roused me. It reminded me of how small my world was compared to the grand scheme of life. That humbled me. My friends being here in my tender state warmed me.

My head shot over to them, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You two never said how you knew I was here. How’d you even know about this place?”

Once again, Mya’s telling eyes roved up to Ivie.

Ivie stepped over to resume her seat around the coffee table and grabbed her paper cup. “Your building people were expecting us. They were told to.” She sipped from the straw.

“By whom?” I demanded with wide eyes.

“By Ragee.” Mya giggled nervously, eyes bouncing between the two of us. “Your husband.”

“You tripping, Wyn. Making us nervous,” Ivie complained.

I sighed harshly, sitting up, and propping my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my palms.

“Please tell me those rumors about you and fine ass Teke ain’t true!” I heard the panic in that inquiry.

They heard about that?

“Of course not, Ivie! Why in the hell would you say shit like that?” Mya chided.

“Because she ain’t saying shit, but is damn sure acting weird. What the fuck, Wynter?”

“Well, Raj wouldn’t invite us here to be with her if she cheated.” Mya’s tone turned less confident. “Would he, Wynter?”

“Bitch, say something!” Ivie demanded.

I lifted my head. “I couldn’t tell you why Raj invited you guys over.” No matter how much I needed it, I didn’t know. “I can’t tell you lots of things about him. And to address your question, Ivie, the reason why is because right now, I know him almost as well as I do Teke.” Mya gasped again. “Only difference is I haven’t fucked Teke. Never wanted to.”

“Oh!” Ivie threw her weight to the back of her chair, expressing relief. “Because for a minute, I was believing the one about y’all not really being married again!” Her arms lashed the air dramatically.

She didn’t get it.

“You should, because it’s true.”

The room seemed to have muted all at once. Even the sounds of the traffic pollution from below ceased. My friends exchanged a gaze resembling shock and confirmation.

Ivie’s eyes returned to me first in a glower. “What the fuck did you just say—”

“You’re not married?” Mya wouldn’t let her finish.

“I am. Legally.” I shook my head, pinching my nose. This was my breaking point. I knew this secret shit was a bad idea and would blow up in my face. No more. I may not be able to tell the world—and honestly, had no desire to. I owed the public shit. But my friends, the people who knew and loved me didn’t deserve the dark because of my impulsive decision to save Van while pursuing a lifelong dream. Nothing good came from deception and secrets. “Listen… It’s a complicated story. We’re gonna need time and alcohol to get you caught up.” I stood, leaving them for the living room where I knew I’d find the perfect liquid potion.

Mauve.

Mya’s torso swayed forward. Ivie’s upper body leaned over her knees as her face was frozen in shock. Mya’s hair flowed over her shoulder like a curtain when she twisted her neck to look at Ivie next to her. All of their movements resembled robotic at this point. Three shots of Mauve would do that to novices to it. We had three each for the number of years I was due in this shit. I ran down mostly every detail of my relationship with one Ragee McKinnon—all but his abuse.

“So…” Ivie stalled. “That was all a front? Even what we saw of you two with our own eyes when we came to his mansion? You were acting?”

I shook my head, my eyes closing in relation. I rubbed my lips together, pained by the flash memory of unmodified happiness.

“No, Ivie. Keep up!” Mya barked. “That was real.”

Ivie shook her head this time, likely trying not to succumb to the oblivion of premium brandy. “I’m just confused about what’s real and what’s fake.”

“That makes two of us.” I rolled my eyes.

“So, when did you start fucking him?”

“The end of January.” My eyes settled at a spot on the table as my mind raced with this bullshit. “And I don’t even know that he wanted it, but I know he enjoyed it. The fucked up thing about it was afterwards.”

“Why do you say that?” Mya asked with pinkish eyes.

The Mauve had hit its target, bull’s eye with her.

“Because afterward, his first words to me were that he knew I’d gotten tested before all this shit—he did, too; I made sure of it. It was all my idea. But he wanted to know what type of birth control I was on.”

“That R&B motherfucker!” Ivie breathed, mouth balled tight and eyes focused below.

Mya blurted, “Why’d you request STD testing if you knew it was all fake?”

“Because it was another event in my life where I felt my hand being forced. I had little control, and the only power I could execute when the Mike Brown guy had my back up against the wall because I needed help with Van. That was the only counter-clause I could come up with. My only requirement was that he was tested. I remember Mike Brown laughing in my face like ‘yeah, okay…he can do that.’ And I guess the joke was it was useless because we’d never have sex—”

“But you did,” Ivie clarified.

“Yeah we did.”

Mya’s chin dipped, in search of understanding. “And it was good?”

“It was the most passionate thing I ever experienced in my life. Like…I would never have dick like that again.” I cringed on a long exhale. “I’m sure.”

“Well, fuck that!” Ivie glared. “We gone figure this out.”

I shook my head, eyes closed as I was now feeling the magic of Mauve. “That’s not why I’m telling you guys. I only came clean because I don’t want you being a part of the lie. Like…that’s why I stayed away all those months. It’s why you didn’t hear from me. And I will not allow him to bring you guys into this under the guise of being a co-conspirator to something that isn’t even real.”

“Fuck ‘im.” Ivie’s head swayed softly, her mouth turned up in anger. “Fuck ‘im! Go fuck Teke. He cute and ‘bout to be popping with B City.”

I rolled my eyes. She was knocking on drunk’s door.

“Well, I don’t think this is fake now. I think it’s real,” Mya spoke up, eyes bouncing around the solarium. “I think this is very much real, no matter what he said today about him being the reason you soared in boot camp. I spoke to him myself to arrange everything, and this time I could feel the pain in his voice. I should have known something was up. But I ignored it, not really knowing the guy.”

“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “And that part.”

Ivie’s eyes fell upon me. “What about that part?”

I took a deep breath. “He said he fell in love with me.”

“Ahhhhhh!” an incredible roar shot from Ivie’s belly as she shouted, her arms flaying in the air again. “Bullshit!”

“No!” Mya’s voice was unusually strong, drawing my attention to her. “I believe it. Why is that impossible?”

Ivie and I shot daggers into Mya’s naïve regard. No one had faith in Mya’s opinion about relationships period. She was the most sensitive and gullible out of the three of us.

Ignoring that argument, Ivie charged, “Don’t start with that bullshit!” she warned with fervor. “It’s that illuminati bullshit! Don’t do it. Don’t do it!”

I rolled my eyes again.

“No,” Mya continued her fight. “It’s not about ‘Mya being naïve.’ If you’ve not listened to the details of her story,” her hand pointed toward me, “this was very much a legitimate relationship. She gave herself to him, too. I heard that single Ragee just dropped. It reeks of sensual passion!”

“Wynter’s a freak!” Ivie avowed. “She can give him the voodoo punani. A good fuck don’t mean nothing to her. You know this!”

Is she calling me a whore?

“No.” Mya pressed on. “There was more that happened, and I’m sure we’re not hearing the whole story.” Mya eyed me keenly and I returned it, just not as confidently. “And I’m not asking for the uncut story because that’s between you and your husband, but I’m willing to bet you’re in love with him, too.”

Ivie tossed herself against the back of the chair again and swung her arms open wide. “Ugh! This bitch with this happily ever after bullshit,” she grunted.

“No,” Mya began her response with the same word again. “I don’t want to know. That’s not me asking for more or for you to admit anything. I just want you to be real with yourself. And if he’s in love with you, I think you need to really consider your next move because the contract can be legal, but so is your marriage license. It’s real. So if you want it, you better think long and hard—without your hyper-hungry pussy—about your next steps.”