Troy-
It was disconcerting to have my daughter's front door opened by people I didn’t know, but somehow, I recognized them.
It didn’t take long to realize I was looking at Noah's grandmother.
“May I help you?”
she asked, her voice dripping with that polite tone that snooty people seem to rehearse.
I didn’t respond.
I just turned and walked back to my car, wondering what was going on.
I wanted to hug my daughter, not deal with strangers.
Why hadn’t Creed told me they were visiting? How long have they been here? From inside the car, I watched as the husband and a blonde woman joined the grandmother. They all came out to stare at me as I called Creed's number.
She answered, sounding happier than she had in a while.
“Where are you?”
she asked, which was strange,
“Where am I? I’m sitting outside your house, being watched by Noah's grandparents and a blonde chick.
Did they have another child? Why did you ask me where I was?”
“That’s the nurse.
Why are you there? No, don’t answer.
Leave, now, I was going to call you and tell you to come to Atlanta anyways.
Leave my house though”
she urged.
“I’m going to text you an address and a code to the front door.
Go there.
We left Alaska about 10 hours ago; we’ll be home soon.”
“Alaska?”
Confusion laced my voice.
"What were you doing in Alaska?" Before I could ask anything else, the text notification dinged in my ear, and I realized she had hung up.
I sat in the car, debating whether to call her back.
Instead, I sent her a text telling her I had to pick up her mother and brother and take them to their hotel first.
I was surprised when she told me to take them with me to the address she’d sent.
Actually, I was relieved. At this point, I needed my family, broken or whole.
Instead of leaving right away, I got out and made my way back to the front door.
Noah's grandparents had gone back inside with the nurse.
I struggled to remember their names.
It wasn’t Engel like their son Wolfgang, if I recalled correctly—he’d legally changed his. They were as inconsequential to me as Tiffany was, so I’d never taken the time to learn much about them. Noah didn’t need them. He’d been like one of our children from the day Tiffany dropped him off the first time. We knew he was better off with us on the days she decided to leave him.
I used my key instead of knocking.
This was my daughter's house; they were visitors.
I found the grandparents in the kitchen, arguing.
I must have made too much noise because they stopped as soon as they noticed me.
They were sitting at the kitchen island, side by side with their heads down.
When they turned to look at me, their eyes went wide.
I came right out with it.
“What are you doing here?”
I’d heard about them.
They were notorious for being grifters and had nearly ruined their son's music legacy through dirty dealings.
The wife, with her wrinkled nose in the air, spoke up.
“We're here to see our grandchild and his baby.”
Hmm.
I ran my hand across my stubbled chin.
I needed to shave.
“I don’t believe that,”
I said, shaking my head.
“We never got a call from you all when Noah was growing up.
Even when we contacted you for his high school and college graduations, we never got a response.
From what I hear, you were terrible parents to your own son, too. Why are you here now? You’ve been old for a whole, it can’t be fear of death that’s suddenly brought you around.”
The wife looked insulted.
For what? She was old as dirt.
The husband went to open his mouth, but I raised my hand to stop him.
“You’ve probably heard I lost my oldest daughter recently.
I just found out my son is in some kind of trouble, and I’m worn, tired to the bone, and feeling violent.”
I kept my voice steady, calmer than I felt.
I wanted to hurt someone just because I was hurting.
I walked further into the kitchen to make sure they could hear me clearly.
“I refuse to lose anyone else in my family, or see them hurt. This includes Noah. So, if you two are here for anything nefarious, leave now. I will dig a hole, put both of you motherfuckers in it, and pour the goddamn cement myself if my daughter so much as gets annoyed with you people.”
Somebody gasped behind me.
I looked back to find the nurse, her eyes wide.
I caught her gaze, ensuring my message was clear.
“Yes, I’m threatening their lives. Make sure you remind them, just in case they didn’t hear what I said.”
As I turned to leave, I realized my threat would probably end up public.
I didn't care.
They needed to understand the seriousness of the situation.
Tears slipped down my cheeks, surprising me when I felt the dampness on my chin.
I let out a shaky breath, trying to steady my hands as I wiped my face with the back of my sleeve.
The ache in my chest was heavy.
I gripped the steering wheel, leaning forward, taking deep, slow breaths. For a long moment, I just sat there, staring at nothing, watching my reflection in the rearview mirror as I tried to pull myself together. Something was going to have to give because I refused to give up. I composed myself, then started the engine.
The drive to the airport was a blur, my mind racing with thoughts of Scarlett, Jason, Creed, and Noah.
When I arrived, I parked and made my way to the arrivals gate, my eyes scanning the crowd for my wife and son.
Finally, I saw them.
Scarlett, looking exhausted but relieved to see me, and Jason, who didn’t look at me at all.
I was going to murder Vincent with my own two hands.
Scarlett believed that Jason was too strong to be groomed, but he had been, and there was no way around it.
We walked to the car in silence.
The ride to the address was done in silence.
Jason and Scarlett were asleep when Noah and Creed came in.
I was sitting on the sofa, watching Naked and Afraid, wondering why they even had a second house when they walked in.
As soon as the door opened, I started speaking before they were even inside.
"Why were you two in Alas—" my words trailed off mid-sentence as a dead man walked in behind Noah.
"Wolfgang Engel!!?"
Creed-
My momma told me what happened with Vincent.
Said he was in the hospital after he'd been beaten until he begged Uncle Clay to let him go.
His daughter had the nerve to be talking about suing us.
I told her I'd pursue charges against her father for what he did to Jason.
She shut up.
I thought Jason would be happy.
He wasn’t.
Jason only cried.
He cried and slept, and something in me knew that if he didn't find a way to cope, to process his grief, he might never recover.
What he had with Vince was proof.
He was strong.
He fought.
He was my big brother who'd never let anyone harm me or Maine or himself. This wasn’t him.
The weight of his sadness made me want to cry.
I purposely waited until everybody was occupied with Wolfgang to go knock on the door of the room Jason had been staying in for the past three days.
I knocked once, then twice.
When he didn't answer, I let myself in.
He was lying in the fetal position on the bed, just like we'd left him. I eased onto the bed with him. At least he wasn't crying, I thought as he turned over and buried his head in my chest.
"Jason," I said softly, "let's go for a walk.
Just around the block.
Some fresh air might do us good, and I need to get some exercise for this baby."
I felt him nod.
I knew using the baby would get him out of bed.
I waited for him to put on shoes and ignored the fact that he was in his pajamas.
I was wearing an oversized T-shirt and gym shorts. We would look raggedy together.
We walked in silence, the cool night air calming my nerves.
So much was going on.
Wolfgang was back, and we'd talked to tons of lawyers to make sure he wouldn't face any legal repercussions.
Pseudocide wasn’t exactly illegal, but people usually committed illegal acts when planning it. It seemed Wolfgang was in the clear, but we wanted to make sure. He and Noah were so weird. Neither knew exactly how to deal with being in each other's presence, so there were tons of awkward platitudes.
A block away was a park.
We walked to it, and I took a seat on the bench to rest my swollen feet and stared up at the moon.
I felt Jason take a spot next to me.
I turned and looked at the side of his face before asking, "Is this grief or guilt?"
"Both," he responded, barely above a whisper.
"I was closest to Maine.
I saw signs that she wasn't alright, and all I did was chastise her and leave her by herself."
I reached out and wrapped my arm around him.
"It's not your fault," I whispered.
"We all missed the signs.
We were all caught up in our own lives."
He leaned into me, his breath shaky.
"But I should've been there for her.
We were special together.
You remember I used to be so afraid when we'd go anywhere, Maine, not even a year older, wore that dirty cape daddy gave her everywhere for like two years and called herself my hero and would keep everybody ten feet away from me." He chuckled, and I did too.
"I'm going to say this and leave it alone, Jason.
Holding onto guilt won't bring Maine back.
It'll only eat away at you.
I want to curl up in bed right along with you and cry, but I can't." I rubbed my belly.
"Your niece won't let me, and I need you to get yourself together so Daddy won’t wallow.
Quiet as kept, he's the weakest amongst us all.
He loves so fiercely," I finished, my voice steady despite the emotion welling up inside me.
"And right now, he needs us to be strong for him, or he's going to die of a broken heart." I felt myself succumbing to grief just at the thought of a life without my daddy.
Life with a bitter Scarlett.
Troy leaving her, in life or in death, would be met with hostility.
Jason and I sat in silence for a long time.
"Hey, I wondered where you all went," Noah took a spot next to me on the bench.
He was dressed in a suit, having dealt with lawyers all day with his father.
He looked good.
Taking my chin in his hand, he made me face him, then used his handkerchief to clear away tears on my face that I hadn't even realized were falling.
He gave me a soft smile, then he turned his attention to Jason.
Jason still had his head down, looking like he was lost in his thoughts.
"I want my turn on the swings," Noah gently knocked into me so I'd bump into Jason.
"Huh?" Jason finally looked up from the ground.
"The swings.
I want you to push me, and I want to soar." He chuckled.
"You used being smaller and younger than me as an excuse for me to push you on them for what felt like forever.
You're as big as me now."
He clapped his hands.
"Let's go." Before Jason could protest or say no, Noah stood and grabbed him by the shoulders, hefting him up, then shoved him in the direction of the swings.
"I'll be right back," he spoke over his shoulder to me.
Just before Noah sat down on one of the swings, he whispered something to Jason.
Jason's eyes glazed over for a moment, then he nodded.
There was a subtle shift in his demeanor.
Noah's words, whatever they were, seemed to reach him in a way mine hadn't.
Jason began pushing Noah on the swings as they talked.
I couldn't hear what they were saying and didn't care, as long as it helped Jason.
I watched them, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the ache in my heart.
Then everything went sideways.
I watched Noah stand up, turn around, and punch Jason square in the face.
Jason retaliated with a right hook to Noah's jaw.
Noah slammed Jason to the ground, and they wrestled.
I was too stunned to process what was happening quickly enough for me to do anything, and when I did finally react, they were already walking back in my direction, talking as if nothing ever happened.
Are they serious right now? I thought.
Sweaty, faces red, covered in grass and dirt, they stood in front of me looking like they hadn't just gone full MMA on each other in front of my eyes.
I stared at them both like they were crazy.
Jason was the first to speak.
"I'm sorry for lying, Creed, and for stealing from you.
It won't happen again." Jason didn’t play contrite well.
His apology was awkward. He wasn't used to having to say sorry. None of Troy and Scarlett's children were. We were spoiled almost rotten.
Noah shoved his shoulder into Jason's ribs.
"Ok, fuck.
Stop hitting me before we end up fighting for real." Jason barked at Noah before turning to me again.
"I really am sorry and will be working with Noah at his father's label until I pay back every cent."
I blinked hard.
"Y’all just pummeled each other, and that’s that? Is everybody in our family crazy? Sheridan ain't gonna be okay."
Noah cocked his head.
"Who is Sheridan?"
I sucked my teeth.
"Our daughter."
"No, I'm not naming my child Sheridan," Noah protested.
"But—"
"No, Creed," he reached for my hand.
"It's getting cold, let's go in."
I shook my head.
"I want to swing first." I declared, feeling childish.
They didn’t let me play with them when I was younger.
"You push me, and Jason can stand in front of me and catch me if need be."
They did as I said, both taking turns pushing me.
We played tag.
I waddled after them.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Jason laughed, and just the sound of it made me feel as if everything would be okay.
Later that night, when the house was quiet, I knocked on Jason's door and asked him what Noah had whispered to him.
Jason shook his head.
"He told me I need to apologize to you or it was on sight until I did.
I told him to give me a few days, and his crazy ass hit me." Jason laughed like he was back to normal.
Maybe he needed some sense knocked into him.
"Then he told me I deserved the ass-whooping Vincent gave me for allowing his geriatric ass to hit me without breaking his jaw."
I went straight to my room where Noah was lying in bed, shirtless.
"Why would you tell Jason he deserved what Vincent did to him?"
Noah sighed.
"Because he did.
Because he allowed it.
He was using Vincent to punish himself for what happened to Maine when he should have been trying to help the family patch itself back together.
Everybody needs to start being confronted with the truth and held accountable for their own sins.
Pretending they don't exist or sugarcoating them doesn't make us better."
All I could do was shake my head.
He was somewhat right, but also wrong.
But I understood the tough-love approach.
He added, "You need to do the same thing with your mother.
Tell her how you feel, uncensored, without yelling or anger, before everything between you two festers further."
Creed-
I was so embarrassed.
I couldn’t believe Noah had told the therapist everything that ever happened between us, and I mean everything.
The incident in the back of Maine's van, the nights I snuck into his room, the damn near forced wedding—if I could die for just an hour and come back to life, I would.
This is not what I thought therapy would be like.
I was glad I had my first session with Noah before I had one with my mother.
I had a feeling that would be exhausting, and I wouldn’t want to do another for a while.
I also had a session scheduled with my dad and Jason.
I didn’t think Jason and I needed one.
He needed to focus on himself.
We’d just dropped him off at rehab. Turns out, he had been indulging in all types of drugs and risky sex and kinks.
Even through the laptop screen, I could sense Ms.
Avery’s discomfort after what she’d heard, but she stayed professional.
“Though I don’t agree with a lot of things you two have participated in, you both find them acceptable.
So, my role here isn’t to judge but to help you navigate through these waters together.”
She paused, letting her words sink in.
“Today, I’d like to talk to you both about the five love languages,”
she continued, holding each of our gazes.
“It's how we express and receive love, which can be different for everyone.
You both have unique ways of expressing and experiencing love, and sometimes, those ways don’t naturally align.”
She raised her hand.
That’s okay.
It’s about finding common ground and learning to speak each other’s love languages fluently.
I’d like to start with the mister.
For Noah, it seems that physical touch and words of affirmation are his primary ways of feeling loved and secure.
Am I right, Noah?” She gave him a moment to answer, and he nodded.
“This is just an assumption, but I think you need reassurance from Creed that she loves you as much as you love her, and that despite how your relationship began, she’s with you, not because you...”
she paused, clearing her throat, “kidnapped her and made her marry you under duress.”
She murmured.
Noah cut his eyes toward me but kept his head forward, and I realized that was exactly what he needed.
I thought we’d moved past what happened nearly seven months ago, but if he needed to hear it again, I’d say it.
Taking his chin in my hand, I gently turned his face so our eyes met.
“I hope you know you couldn’t keep me here if I didn’t want to be.
I could have walked away at any time, yet I chose to stay.
I choose you. I choose us.”
Ms.
Avery watched us, a silent observer, as I continued.
“I never planned to tell you this story, but when I was about ten, Maine told me I had to start telling people you were my brother.
I looked her right in the eye and said, ‘No, I can’t marry my brother. I’ve been in love with you since before I even understood what it—”
The sound of Noah’s father yelling, “I’ll kill both of you!”
cut me off.
Both Noah's and my eyes went wide.
Why was he at our house? Where were his parents?
“Is everything alright?”
Ms.
Avery asked.
“Stay here,”
Noah ordered.
“I’m coming with you.”
I pushed myself up from the sofa.
There was no way I was staying.
“I’m sorry, Ms.
Avery, we’ll reschedule.
“I said before closing the laptop.
I did not need her hearing anything she’d have to report to the police.
My belly slowed me down, but I made it downstairs in time to see Wolfgang’s mother sitting down with her hand over her heart, sweating and red-faced.
Shock was written all over Wolfgang’s face.
My eyes drifted to the large Black man standing just outside the front door.
“What is going on?”
Noah yelled over the commotion.
Daddy Wolf nodded towards the man for him to speak.
The man started talking, his voice deep and cathartic .
“I’m Lyfe, the private investigator hired by Mr.
Engel.
After weeks of investigating, I found out that Mr.
Engel’s parents were planning on harming Creed.
They attempted to hire a hitman—which sounds easy on TV, but it’s not so simple in real life.
When that didn’t work, they started researching poisons and drugs that could make her death look natural.
They thought that if Creed were gone, their grandson would inherit her fortune and the record label.”
Wow.
My brain couldn’t process it.
They were actually planning to kill me? And all while Noah was plotting to leave them penniless.
So much deception.
Lyfe paused for a second before continuing.
“They have nothing left.
The IRS seized—”
Before he could finish, four men dressed in black tactical gear rushed into the house, pushing past him with semi-automatic weapons. “ATF!”
they shouted, their bulletproof vests bearing the agency’s initials.
“Everybody on the floor!”
I froze on the stairwell, my hands trembling as I threw them up in surrender.
My heart pounded like a jackhammer.
Everyone else remained standing.
I assumed they were here for Wolfgang’s parents, but when one of the agents said, “Noah Washington, we have a warrant for your arrest on gun trafficking charges,”
my heart sank.
The investigator tried to intervene.
“There’s no need to point guns at a pregnant woman and her family,”
he said, trying to get the agents to stand down.
But his words fell on deaf ears as the situation continued to escalate.
“With or without a warrant, I’m not going anywhere with you.
Call my fucking lawyer.
He cleared this days ago,”
Noah declared.
“You have no right to come in here like this.
I know you don’t have a warrant for this residence.”
The lead agent stepped forward, narrowing his eyes and tightening his grip on his weapon.
“We have a warrant, Mr.
Washington,”
he retorted coldly.
“You’re coming with us, one way or another.”
As I watched the standoff, a sudden pain shot through my belly.
I cried out, and a warm rush of fluid soaked the stairs beneath me.
Noah turned, panic in his eyes.
“Creed, what’s wrong?”
he asked, his voice trembling.
Before I could answer, another wave of pain hit, stronger than the last.
I doubled over, gasping for breath as the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. “Noah,”
I managed to choke out, “I think...
I think the baby’s coming.”
I wasn’t surprised.
I was three weeks from my scheduled delivery.
Noah moved to scoop me into his arms, but before he could, the lead agent tackled him, forcing him to the ground.
“You’re under arrest.
Resist, and you’ll only make it worse for yourself.”
Noah resisted, slamming his head back into the agent’s face.
But before he could break free, more agents swarmed him, their guns trained on him as they forcibly restrained him.
My heart raced as I watched helplessly, the world spinning around me.
“You’re all going to pay for this!”
Noah shouted as they held him down.
Lyfe was the first to reach me, his strong arms scooping me up off the steps as agents shoved Wolfgang back from Noah.
Over his shoulder, I could see Wolfgang struggling against a wall of agents, his face twisted as he reached toward his son.
“It’s gonna be okay,”
Lyfe whispered against my hair, his voice soothing.
Soon as I was outside, EMTs came and got me.
They quickly began strapping me in and hooking me up to monitors.
As I was loaded into the ambulance, I saw Noah being shoved into a police cruiser.
The look in his eyes scared me.
I called his name, and he looked up, our eyes locking.
“I love you,”
I mouthed, forcing a small smile.
His eyes softened.
The ambulance doors slammed shut, and we pulled away.
One of the EMTs asked how I was feeling and began checking my vitals.
I felt a wave of helplessness, knowing Noah was being taken in the opposite direction.
As another contraction hit, I closed my eyes and whispered a silent prayer for strength.
Somehow, we’d get through this nightmare.
I woke up groggy in the hospital room, the smell of antiseptic in the air.
Machines beeped around me, and as the events of the day flooded back, I tried to fight the drowsiness that was pulling me under.
I placed a hand on my belly and felt my baby kick.
A faint smile crossed my lips.
Just then, I heard my momma’s raised voice outside the room.
Relief washed over me.
No matter what issues we had, I knew Scarlett would fight the devil himself to make sure me and Valentina were safe.