Chapter 6 #2
Oh. “Mine is Brittania,” I say, stealing a glance at him.
He smirks, eyes flicking toward me. “Eeeh?” he repeats, a little amused.
“You like it?” I tease, biting back a smile.
He nods again, lips quirking. “A probably she mi meet pan yuh birthday night,” he says, his tone loaded.
I burst out laughing. “Oh shut up, I was drunk,” I manage between laughs.
He hums low under his breath and I laugh harder, the sound filling the car. Then out of nowhere, he turns onto a road I don’t recognize. I pause, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Babe mek we play Q and A,” I say, turning toward him a little. “So we get fi know more ‘bout each other… the little things.”
He keeps his eyes on the road, jaw twitching slightly. His expression? Not interested. “Please?” I press, voice softening, leaning closer than before.
“Mi nuh play dem silly game deh,” he replies coolly.
I burst out laughing, dropping my face into my palm. Of course. Classic Nickoi. This is exactly why sometimes he makes me feel dumb. Not in a mean way, but in that frustrating, distant way he has. He never explains himself unless pressed. Apparently, some things just don’t matter to him.
“Please nuh,” I try again, peeking up at him with a playful pout.
He side-eyes me, lips twitching. “Aight. Cut out the Q and A talk. Jus’ ask mi wah yuh wah know ‘bout mi.”
I raise an eyebrow, laughing. “So… nuh the same thing?”
“No,” he smirks. “We not playing no Q and A. We jus’ a get fi know each other.”
I look away, hiding my smile as it tugs at my lips. “No sah, okay. So we just a talk now. No Q and A to yuh thing.”
He nods once, giving me that lowkey grin that always messes with my chest.
The road narrows as we drive deeper into the hills, winding between tall trees and gated properties that start to feel more and more spaced out.
“Who live so far up in the hills by demself? No neighbors? No noise? Not even a dog inna the road?” I mumble, peering out the window.
Nickoi says nothing. Just eases off the gas and rolls the Benz up to a large wrought-iron gate.
It opens before we even reach it, like we were expected.
The car glides up a stone-paved driveway, curving around a circular fountain lit from beneath.
The mansion is massive, regal but understated.
Like old money. Nickoi pulls to a smooth stop, and my mouth parts slightly as a stout older man steps out onto the veranda like he owns the entire estate.
He’s in a crisp, short-sleeved button-down, brown linen shorts, and leather slides. His Cuban links rest heavy around his neck like they were poured in gold. On his wrist sits a Richard Mille watch, gleaming beneath the dusk light like it’s doing more than just telling time.
This man isn’t trying to look rich. He is rich. This is what they mean when they say ‘Rich as Gates.’
He looks around Mama’s age, seventies maybe but moves with a certain confidence.
Like he’s still in charge of whatever operation he used to run.
Two men trail behind him in silence. He’s puffing on a thick cigar, the smoke curling above him like incense.
Before he gets too close, he dabs the cigar out on a stone ashtray by the pillar.
When he gets to the car, Nickoi winds the window down, and the old man grins wide, gold grills flashing. “Ol’ drug dealer,” Nickoi mutters under his breath with a smirk.
“Wah gwan, mi son?” the man greets, voice raspy but rich, as he claps Nickoi on the shoulder.
Then his eyes shift to me. “Good evening to you, Zara,” he says smoothly, holding out his hand.
I blink, surprised, before slipping my hand into his. He shakes it gently, like a gentleman, not a gangster. I smile.
So Nickoi out here talking about me? How cute.
“Hello, sir,” I greet, unsure who he is or what his connection to Nickoi is.
He grins, eyes still sharp despite his age.
“I’m Nature. Nick look up to me like mi a him old man ‘cause his real father woulda look up to me as his old man. Him fadda was into the business, yuh must know, but Long Live Owayne. Real killer. Real legend,” he trails off, his voice dropping low with respect as he unscrews a bottle of Belaire and starts splashing it on the asphalt.
Raaatid! Isn’t this what you call wealth? Pouring champagne like it’s water?
I glance at Nickoi, and for a split second, I catch a flicker of something, grief maybe. But just as quick, it’s gone. The mask slips back on.
“Him a gwaan wul off the thug mansion mi fadda,” Nickoi says quietly to Nature, his voice dipped in respect.
“Word, word,” Nature nods, then looks past us.
A brown-skinned girl walks out of the mansion like she stepped straight out of a music video, waist snatched, hips swinging, skin gleaming in the sunlight, and only a bikini on. Woiie. She smiles sweetly at Nature, then hands him a small suede box with both hands like it’s fragile.
“Thanks, princess.” He turns and looks directly at me before placing the box in my hands. It’s heavier than it looks.
Then he starts again, eyes still on me but speaking like I’m not even standing there.
“Yuh see this bwoy?” He gestures to Nickoi. “Him neva love a soul yet. Not a soul. But him come to mi, bold as ever, talkin’ ‘bout this girl name Zara. Seh him finally find somebody weh mek him feel again.”
My heart lurches. Nickoi shifts beside me, smiling a little, bashful in a way I don’t often get to see.
Nature continues, still pacing, voice soaked in conviction. “Mi never even wait fi him done explain, yuh sih. Cause from him open him mouth and start describe how yuh mek him feel… mi know. Mi know seh yuh done mash up the brick weh round him heart and tek it fi yuhself.”
I press my lips together, trying not to smile too wide. But damn it… I’m blushing.
“And mi seh to him,” Nature laughs, “Mi seh youth, yuh find har enuh cause a so mi and him chat and mi ask him seh yuh love har and him tek forever fi answer enuh until him seh yes.” He pauses dramatically, then nods.
“But when him seh yes… mi seh to him, nutt’n nuh wrong wid dat. Cause every thug need love too.”
He chuckles deep in his chest. “And from di minute him seh him ready fi do di tradition, mi know right den and there seh a you a go be him wife.”
My breath stills. Did he just say wife?
Nickoi is smiling at me now full on, like he’s proud I heard that. Like he don’t mind me knowing the truth. I feel everything. Every damn thing. He really loves me.
And I love him too. So deeply it’s almost terrifying.
“Mi never get no yute enuh,” Nature says, voice lower now. “And mi did love him father like mi own son so now mi have him.”
He pauses, gaze lingering on Nickoi like he’s watching the boy he once knew finally become a man. “Mi know mi soon dead,” he continues, raw truth in his tone.
“But mi did just want see one thing before mi go and a fi know seh this yute finally find peace. Cause him been through nuff storm, mi a tell yuh. Nuff man out here talk ‘bout struggle and pain but dem nuh know nothing yet. But, that a fi a next time.”
Nickoi is silent. I glance at Nickoi, jaw locked, hands in his lap, just staring at Nature like he’s trying not to feel too much all at once.
I offer a small smile. “Okay.”
Nature nods, eyes finding mine again. “Yeah man… and nuh matter the money or the power weh him have, him neva look so content… not til’ you. Mi never see him look so settled. So mi respect you a million times, Zara.”
I glance at Nickoi again. Still no emotion. Just that same unreadable expression he wears when he’s processing something too deep for words. Damn. My heart tightens for him. This is a man who never got to be a boy.
“Open the box,” Nickoi says suddenly, voice quiet but firm.
I freeze for a second. My fingers twitch. A lump swells in my throat, heavy and sharp, because I already know, I just know whatever’s inside that box is about to shift something in me. Tears threaten. I blink them back. Not here. Not yet.
“Mi never wah be cliché like everybody else,” Nickoi says, like he’s peeling something off his chest he’s never said out loud. “Mi never wah do this the way people expect.”
His eyes hold mine. Searching. “Mi just wah yuh see seh mi grow. Mi still rough, rough in all the ways yuh know. But mi different now.”
My fingers press into the velvet box resting in my lap.
It feels heavier now. “Mi neva wah no fancy food, no fancy place, no crowd.
Just simple and raw ‘cause everything inna mi life expensive . But fi once, mi wah yuh see seh mi like things simple… even if a something major like this.” A silence stretches.
His voice dips low, almost husky and the air between us pulls tight.
I feel it. That shift. That quiet, unspoken weight he just peeled back and placed in front of me.
I can feel my throat closing. My stomach flips and heat crawls up the back of my neck.
He’s saying things I never imagined he’d ever say something like this to me.
Whew. Mi body cya keep up. My hands start trembling, barely noticeable at first, but he notices.
He always notices. Nickoi looks at me, really looks at me and it’s like my whole body tunes into him.
His energy don’t shout. It hums. Low and deep and grounding.
“Open the box,” he says, voice steady. My throat tightens. I blink hard, swallowing thick air.
“Nickoi…” My voice fractures, barely making it out.
He doesn’t meet my eyes, just looks away, smiling to himself like the outcome already set.
Fingers trembling, I reach out. The lid barely lifts, then I yank it back down.
The box presses cold into my palms, weight sinking into my skin.
My breath stutters, chest tightens like a fist squeezing in.
I press my hand to my mouth, trying to swallow down the tremors. The world narrows to this moment.
The door swings open with a low click, and Nickoi steps out. His movements are slow, like he’s shedding a weight he’s carried too long. A stoic expression on his face. No smirk, no bravado. Just something unreadable sitting heavy in his eyes.
“You always a say yuh waan know mi,” he says, eyes pinning me in place. “Mi a go mek yuh know mi… now.”
I step out, the gravel crunching beneath my shoes as I move closer, watching him, watching the shift in him .
“When my father got murdered,” he starts, voice low, “Mi stay here… with Nature and him wife. Mi mother try get mi fi come back home, but mi couldn’t stay deh. Not when mi still hear gunshots every time mi blink. Couldn’t walk pass him room without mi chest feeling tight.”
He pauses. His eyes don’t leave the sky. “My father was mi best friend… and when him gone, mi whole meds cut up. Everybody else move on. I… couldn’t.”
The quiet hugs us tight. I don’t say a word. I can’t.
He nods toward Nature. “This man take mi in… same way him did take in mi father. Him never hesitate. Him treat mi like blood.”
I’m still staring. My arms move before I think, wrapping my arms around him, holding him like maybe I can soften the blow that already passed. He hugs me back, strong but wordless. And then, soft as breath, he presses his lips to the bridge of my nose.
My heart clenches. Nickoi has never done that before. That’s… that’s like the most adorable kiss ever.
When he pulls back, he nods at the box again. “Open it,” he repeats.
My hands tremble as I glance down. Full time, Zara. I slowly lift the lid. Something white peeks back at me, just a single sheet of folded paper. That alone makes my knees feel weak.
“Babe?” My voice comes out thin.
He doesn’t flinch. “Just dweet, man.”
My fingers pinch the edge of the paper and pull. The second I open it, I gasp.