Noah-
Right, right, jab.
Troy shifted his weight to one foot, broadcasting his right hook.
I purposely moved into the path of his fist to be met with a jab.
His left fist rocketed toward me, colliding with my jaw. It stung, but it didn't hurt. Troy didn’t put enough weight behind his punches. I was bored but still remembered to throw my right, right, jab. I knew Troy would duck, and he did. I knew his every move. Troy and I had been going to the boxing gym once a week since I was about eight or nine. Even if he was on tour, he made sure to fly back once a week just for me.
By the time I was fifteen, I started going after school every day without him.
Now I was a far more advanced fighter than he was, trained in both boxing and MMA.
It was hard holding back in a sparring match with him and even harder not to correct his punches, but I never said anything and stuck to his routine because I knew him thinking he was teaching me something meant a lot to him.
It was Troy. He was soft when it came to the people who were important to him.
While he danced around the ring, I eased into the conversation I had wanted to have with him.
I had rehearsed what I wanted to say plenty of times—yesterday and the day before.
That was when I thought Creed would actually be an adult and talk to me about what happened next.
But today, I was pissed off and not in the mood to play nice.
"Creed's pregnant, and the baby's mine..."
It took a few seconds for him to register what I’d said.
Troy's face contorted with rage.
"What the hell did you just say?" This time he didn't telegraph his punch, an uppercut rocked me on my feet.
He threw a jab, jab, punch, and I felt my ribs rattle, leaving me dazed. The blows kept coming—jab, jab, punch, body shot. I felt like a freight train was hitting me. I guess I wasn’t the only one who’d been holding back in our sparring sessions.
Out of sheer reflex, I threw a right hook—one of my best—catching Troy off guard.
The impact landed squarely on his jaw, and he staggered back, his face turning even redder.
He glared at me, slammed his gloves together, and yelled, "Come on."
As the ringing in my ears subsided, the world around me blurred as Troy showed me his right hook was just as powerful as mine.
He was trying to take my head off.
We were both breathing hard.
Troy's face was bright red, and my heart was pounding in my chest. If I made the wrong move, this could be the end of a lifelong relationship and the beginning of some awkward family holidays because, for the next eighteen years, I’d be around. Instead of bowing out, I regrouped, readjusting my stance.
"We might as well get this over with," I said before jabbing Troy in the nose.
We’d have a hell of a lot to talk about when we finished beating the hell out of each other.
The owner of the gym and his son had to break Troy and me apart.
Everything above my waist hurt, and Troy was breathing like a heart attack was imminent.
We both had swollen, bloodied faces.
We were sitting on the back of his truck in the parking lot, his rolling suitcase beside him. We’d been sitting there for over thirty minutes, but neither of us had spoken a word.
"This still surprises me, though I should have foreseen it—Creed and you." He shook his head.
"I've seen how you look at her, just like I looked at her mother.
How long?"
I told him about the summer after Maine's and Jason's graduation, then about Creed forcing me to impregnate her, leaving out the part about me doing it willingly.
Troy chuckled and shook his head when I finished.
"What now? What are you and Creed going to do?" he asked, his eyes locked on mine.
"Creed and I are starting our life together."
His eyebrow rose.
"And if Creed decides she doesn't want a life with you?"
I shook my head.
"She won't."
"It's really none of my business.
But she better not." He threatened without saying it directly, before sliding off the truck.
I followed suit.
He started to walk around to the driver's side, but before he made it around, I asked him, "When are you going back home? Scarlett is losing her mind." I felt bad for her. Scarlett and Troy had been joined at the hip for years. It had to be hard functioning without your shadow.
Troy paused.
"Good, she drives me crazy all the time.
But I'll be back in a few days.
If the media gets any wind of problems between us, they broadcast it, and then out come the wolves. I'm too damn old to be fighting for her love anymore," he joked before raising his hand to rub his jaw.
"Could you not tell her about Creed, just yet?" I knew Troy would mind his business unless Creed included him in ours, but Scarlett was a different story.
I didn’t need her adding to my already uphill battle with Creed.
"I won't tell her anything for the next few days, I can promise you that.
But only if you promise to go back to pretending you can't fight the next time we spar," he added with a smirk.
I chuckled, and so did Troy.
He hopped in his truck, waiting for me to get into Creed's Tesla.
I drove it, hoping to piss her off.
He drove one way, and I drove the other. The entire time, I was thinking about Creed and her pregnancy.
When I pulled up to Troy and Scarlett's house, Maine was standing in the driveway, having a heated conversation with her head stuck in the window of Tiffany's Audi.
Maine looked back at me with a panicked expression before gesturing for Tiffany to leave.
Tiffany waved as she backed out.
I would be calling her.
I’d asked her to stay away, and if she didn’t, I’d tell her I’d take her allowance next.
I’d been giving Tiffany money for years. She was the reason I was in the position I was in now. She owed some very dangerous people money. Troy and Scarlett used to take us on vacations all over the world. To pay back my mother’s debts, I’d gotten the idea to stash away guns and drugs on their private jet. Troy and Scarlett never had to worry. If I got caught, I would have taken the fall. I got good at moving illegal goods to make money.
I jogged to catch up with Maine, who was about to enter the front door.
She glared at my hand around her wrist, holding her still.
"What was she doing here, Maine?"
She narrowed her eyes.
"You mean our mother? I’m here, so she should be allowed too."
"Since when is she your mother? Scarlett raised you."
"Leave me alone, Noah.
You're always on their side," she hissed.
I frowned.
"When has there ever been a 'their side,' Maine? You're referring to your father and the woman who took you in when Tiffany left you at the hospital.
Creed is your sister, Maine.
There is no 'you versus them.'"
"Whatever," she yelled, snatching her arm away and entering the house.
I let her go.
Ever since that incident in the mall, it was like my blinders where Maine was concerned had been taken off.
I noticed that she’d make little snarky remarks about Creed.
She’d talk about how Lil' Compton's death had gotten Creed everything without her earning it.
Maine acted as if she wasn’t unemployed, living in a remodeled half-a-million-dollar duplex. Troy paid her credit card bills, and every expensive piece of jewelry or handbag Scarlett got, she bought the same for Creed and Maine. I didn't understand why Maine had it in her head that she was being slighted.
I let her go, though.
I just hoped whatever she and Tiffany were up to didn’t get her left out in the cold.
Tiffany would not be there for her.
But I understood why Maine trusted her more than I did. She had not spent years in the same house as her, watching her be manipulative and use people.
I followed her into the house, finding Creed in the kitchen eating fruit at the kitchen island.
My eyes immediately fell to her stomach; it looked the same, slightly rounded, but I imagined what it would look like in a few months.
Damn, I couldn't wait to hold my baby.
Our eyes connected, and she coughed, nearly choking on a piece of pineapple.
"What happened to your face?"
"Your father.
I told him you're pregnant, and its mine.
He agreed not to tell your mother, I’ll do it myself."
Her face twisted into a scowl.
"Why would you do that? I don't even know what I want to do."
I replied calmly, "You don’t have but one option, and that’s having our baby." I washed my hands, then grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and pressed it to my jaw.
She stood from the stool.
"Yes.
I'm having my baby," she emphasized.
"And I want you to sign over all parental rights."
I tilted my head, staring at Creed, searching her face for signs that she was out of her mind.
She stared right back, challenging me.
After a few seconds, I simply shook my head and walked away.
My body ached, and I needed my meds to deal with Creed without saying or doing something I'd regret. I heard her chair scrape against the tiled floor and assumed she'd taken a seat again as I left the kitchen.
I realized then that I was going to have to take drastic measures to make Creed understand that I was not her parents, or Maine, or Devon.
I wasn’t scared of her wrath.
She should have been scared of mine.
Creed-
My momma gave me a nasty look before she left the living room as I entered, heading back upstairs granny room.
She hadn't been fucking with me since Daddy was still gone.
Whenever I entered a room, she'd leave after giving me a look like she wanted to beat my ass.
She was acting like I wanted to be here when it was her keeping me trapped. She still hadn't given me my wallet or driver's license, and in Florida, you needed two forms of identification to get it replaced. She had my birth certificate, too. So, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place unless I just got fed up and called in a favor, which would cost me a lot.
When she buzzed in over the intercom and told me I had a visitor, I hadn’t expected it to be Devon.
I hadn’t even heard from him since he’d left.
He was sitting in my daddy's favorite reclining chair, wearing a plain white T-shirt and basketball shorts.
I frowned.
He didn’t usually go anywhere public dressed this casually.
“What are you doing here?”
His fingers tapped an erratic rhythm on the armrest of the chair as he stared at me.
“Were you going to do me like Maine and just not tell me until it was convenient for you?”
I blinked several times, confused as hell about what he was talking about.
“What are you talking about?”
Suddenly, his hand slammed down on the coffee table with a loud thud.
My heart skipped a beat, I recoiled..
“What in the hell is going on? Why are you tripping?”
I’d never seen Devon really mad, not even with the whole Maine situation.
The menacing scowl on his face didn’t even look right.
“I go back home, go to your place, and while I’m gathering my things, I come across receipts for fertility drugs.
Then yesterday, I got a call from Maine.
She’s crying hysterically, saying that you’re pregnant and that our child won’t replace DJ.”
I was going to beat Maine’s ass.
She was doing way too much.
She better thank God she had taken DJ to a birthday party, or I’d be on her ass.
Yes, I had been taking fertility drugs. Nobody but my momma and daddy knew I suffered from PCOS, and I knew it was an issue without a doctor telling me. I’d spent the entire summer having unprotected sex with Noah and no babies, so I decided to take the next step to secure the family I wanted.
“You were snooping.
Those papers are in a box in the back of my closet.
I am pregnant, but it isn’t by you.”
“What the hell do you mean? We’ve been broken up less than a month.
I demand a paternity test.”
“Lower your voice in my parents’ house.
You can’t demand anything from me,” I hissed.
Devon scowled at me and stood, but he sat back down just as quickly.
Footsteps on the marble floor made me aware of someone else joining us.
Noah glided through the living room and past me, holding one of my momma’s fancy ceramic ramen noodle bowls, noodles hanging from the chopsticks he shoved in his mouth.
His face was still battered and bruised from where he and my father had gotten into an actual, real-life fight. I still could not believe he had told Daddy I was pregnant with his child. When I tried to talk to Daddy, he told me to figure it out without causing any more trouble in the family, then hung up on me. I guess he was fed up with me, too.
Before taking a seat on the sofa, Noah lifted the band T-shirt he was wearing, revealing a holster.
He casually took a shiny black gun out and placed it on the coffee table before sitting down.
For a minute, he stared at me, some unspoken words passing between us.
He was about to start trouble. I shook my head slightly, but he ignored me.
Nodding, he said, “I heard y’all from the kitchen and thought I needed to be part of this conversation.”
“When did you start carrying a gun?”
I asked, trying to change the subject and distract Devon.
Noah had already told my daddy, which caused a fight.
What would happen when Devon found out?
“I’ve always had one, with my profession and all.
I just usually leave it in the car.”
He pointed to it and winked at me.
“This one’s legal, though.
Don’t worry, baby.”
He chuckled, then shoved another chopstick full of noodles into his mouth.
“Why would you need to be here?”
Devon asked, making my heart speed up because I wasn’t sure what new Noah was about to do.
I kept glancing at the stairs, hoping my momma didn’t come down.
“Well, because I’m the father,”
he let it out.
Devon’s head jerked back like he’d been slapped.
“What kind of game are you playing here?”
“I’m not playing any games.
It was all Creed with the games.
When she found out about my nephew—your son—she thought me getting her pregnant so she could run away with my offspring would be some kind of punishment, one that I’d tolerate.
I told Creed a long time ago I was trying my hardest not to break her. Now I have no choice, because she has some very stupid ideas swimming in that pretty little head of hers.”
Noah turned his gaze to me, his eyes locking onto mine.
I hated how he was looking at me like he could see right through me.
I hated even more that I couldn’t look away.
“It’s ironic that we’re here together.
Did you know I fucked her on your first date?”
Noah’s eyes never left mine, and mine never left his.
“What the hell is he talking about, Creed?”
“It’s complicated,”
was the only answer I could think of.
“You being involved with your brother is more than complicated.”
That snapped me out of the haze Noah had me in.
“He isn’t my brother.
And not too much on me.
I was going to let your lie about you being with Maine while we were together slide.
I actually believed you at first, but then, in trying to prove she wasn’t the liar you tried to make her out to be, she sent me screenshots of your texts to her. Even then, I let you off the hook. But if you insist on playing the victim, I can go fuck your brother.”
“What in the fuck, Creed? I’m sitting right the fuck here!”
Noah admonished.
Devon stood and took a step toward me, clenching his fists, his jaw ticking.
Noah sat up and tapped the gun on the table.
“Don’t do that,”
he drawled, sounding bored.
Devon snapped, “Are you threatening me?”
Noah chuckled.
“No, I’m warning you that Florida is a stand-your-ground state.
A person is justified in using or threatening to use force against another when they reasonably believe that it’s necessary to defend themselves or another against imminent unlawful force.”
He quoted the law verbatim, I think, then continued before Devon could respond.
“I really don’t want to leave DJ without a father, so I advise you to just go.
You fumbled, you lost.
Don’t make things worse than they already are. And if it makes you feel better, I never fucked her while you two were together. Only after, when she made me, though I really wanted to.”
He taunted Devon and me with his words.
Devon’s eyes darted from mine to Noah’s, then to the gun, before he shouted, “This isn’t over.”
Then he stomped to the front door, flung it open, and slammed it shut.
I stood.
My eyes immediately went to Noah.
“Why would you tell him that?”
He shrugged.
“Why not? Eventually, everyone will know the entire story.”
“Then you pulled out a gun on him.
You know his best friend is the Attorney General of Florida.
He’s going to find a way to cause trouble for you now.
You’re crazy.”
He nodded, setting down his bowl on the coffee table.
He stood then picked up his gun and tucked it back into its holster before getting right up in my face.
I took a step back, but he stepped forward, crowding me against the living room wall.
“I am crazy, you know this.
What were the pretty words you used?”
He tapped my chin before answering his own question.
“Intrinsically flawed.
But you said you liked me as I am.”
He chuckled, then leaned in so close our breaths mingled.
He surprised me by pressing a soft kiss to my lips, making my body react.
He was so annoying.
I caught his bottom lip between my teeth and bit down until I tasted blood.
He reached between us and flicked my hardened nipple.
I let go.
“Bite me again, Creed, and I'm going to fuck you right here on this floor and make you sore for that shit you said about his brother,”
he dared me, his gaze unwavering.
I believed him.
“Whatever, Noah.”
I sidestepped him, trying to leave.
He wrapped his big hand around my arm, pulling me back to him.
“We still need to talk, Creed, and not about the bullshit of me signing over my parental rights.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Then we have nothing to discuss.”
He nearly growled in my face.
“Then I’m going to have to do something drastic.”
“What are you gonna do, Noah? Nothing.”
I taunted.
“Arms dealer, gun wielder, crazy sociopath.
You’re all the, but in the end, you’re still also softy Noah.
When I leave, you’ll let me be and leave me alone. You've already shown me that. Go find Ashley, impregnate her, and be happy.”
He opened his mouth to respond, just as the front door swung open.
I used the distraction to pull away from him, slipping out of his grip.
Maine walked in, her eyes flickering between us.
She must have sensed the tension, and maybe she even enjoyed it.
It was just like her to come in and add fuel to an already burning fire.
"Why in the hell would you tell Devon that I'm pregnant?" I snapped, turning my attention to her before she even closed the door.
She gave me a blank look and shrugged.
“Because you are.
You did it on purpose, trying to ruin my life,”
she accused, her tone dripping with resentment.
“What life, Maine?”
I shouted.
“You don’t have a job, no hobbies, and your son spends more time with our momma than with you.
What life are you talking about?”
My hands clenched into fists as the anger inside me surged, and before I could stop myself, I reached for a heavy bookend on the table.
Noah was on me in an instant, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me back before I could do something I might regret.
He hoisted me off the floor, carrying me out of the main house and into the guest house where I’d been staying.
Maine followed, her and I were yelling at each other the whole way.
My mother came to the back door, her eyes widening as she took in the scene, but she didn’t say a word. She just shook her head and then retreated inside.
Noah dropped me onto the sofa, and I immediately jumped to my feet, ready to lunge at Maine if I had the chance.
“Sit down!”
he roared, his face flushed with anger, the vein in his neck pulsing visibly.
For a moment, I could have sworn he looked as close to losing it as I felt.
I sat down, reluctantly, but I kept my glare on him.
“Enough is enough,”
he said, his tone hard as steel.
“I get that you’re hurt, but you’re taking it out on everyone around you.
You’re ready to attack your own sister with a blunt object while you’re pregnant.
This has to stop.”
I clenched my fists, my frustration bubbling over.
“I’ll stop when I get the hell away from all of you!”
He gave me a long, cold stare before turning and walking out of the guest house.
I jumped up, pacing, my mind racing with everything I wanted to say, everything I wanted to do.
Just as I was about to head for the door, he came back inside, dropping my keys and wallet on the sofa beside me.
“Go then, Creed,”
he said, his voice flat.
I saw a hint of something raw and broken in his eyes that made me feel guilty and sad.
And with that, he walked away, leaving me sitting there with my escape in hand, feeling more alone than ever and wondering if maybe, just maybe, I’d pushed him—and everyone else—too far.