45. Everly
I knelt in the warm soil of the garden at the Stone House, the sun beating down on my back and the sweet, earthy scent of fresh dirt filling the air. I was trying to focus on the task at hand—pulling weeds, trimming the overgrown herbs, trying to care for this little patch of Louisiana my family called home. But Real’s voice was cutting through the peace like a damn chainsaw.
He was sprawled out in the rocking chair on the porch, rapping Lil Wayne lyrics at the top of his lungs. “ Damn, look at you. Now look at us. All my niggas is rich as fuck. Bihhhhh !” he shouted, his voice grating like nails on a chalkboard. Each word seemed to hang in the humid air, mocking me. Still salty from his rejection a couple of days ago, I wasn’t in the mood for this.
I’d come all the way to Emancipation, Louisiana, to get away from him and his bullshit, and here he was, as stubborn as ever. Real with his stupidly handsome features, annoying persistence, and nerve-wracking boundary crossing, was refusing to be unseen. I packed my life up and disappeared to avoid what was brewing between us. Obviously, it didn’t work because he was here, upsetting my atmosphere.
I tried to ignore him, focusing on the bright green plants surrounding me. But it was like trying to ignore a mosquito buzzing around your ear. I yanked a stubborn weed out of the ground with more force than necessary, wishing I could do the same with Real.
“Ay, Love!” he called, his voice irritatingly cheerful. “You hear me? I’m out here in the backwoods, chasing yo’ mean ass, when I’m a rich fly-ass nigga! Ain’t that dedication?”
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I stood up, brushing the dirt from my hands, and decided I’d had enough of his presence for one day. I headed towards the house, determined to escape his annoying ass. The more I saw his face or felt his presence, the more I felt my walls crumbling. That was something I wasn’t ready for.
I took a quick shower before wandering into the cool, dim kitchen, a welcome relief from the ridiculous heat outside. I opened the fridge, pulling out some leftover chicken, lettuce, and mayo—the ingredients for a simple sandwich. Before I could even start assembling, I heard the creak of the floorboards behind me.
I turned around, and there he was, leaning against the door frame with that infuriating grin plastered on his face. His heated gaze traveled over my sundress-encased body, making my most sensitive parts buzz instantly. This man drove me insane.
Every time his eyes were on me, I felt ready to bare everything, and I didn’t just mean my body. One thing Montréal loved to do was look at me. I never doubted his attraction; he would stare at me for hours, I swear. But more recently, it felt like he had been looking beyond my curves to areas I wasn’t ready for him to see. I had to get him away from me.
I sighed, my patience wearing thin. “Stop looking at me, Montréal.”
He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m just tryin’ to unlock the mystery that is Everly. You’re like a puzzle I can’t figure out but refuse to stop trying to solve.”
I rolled my eyes, dolloping mayonnaise onto the bread. “Ain’t no mystery here. Just a tired woman trying to make a damn sandwich.”
“Nah, it’s more than that, Love,” he insisted, his tone suddenly serious. “I think part of the reason you unsuccessfully tryingto resist me is connected to why you had to go so deep to change your life, alter your identity.”
I paused, knife hovering over the mayo jar. My heart skipped a beat. “Maybe I just didn’t wanna be found,” I said, keeping my voice as casual as I could manage.
Real moved closer, his eyes searching mine. “By whom? Why you hiding, Love? What are you running from?”
I slapped the sandwich together with more force than necessary, trying to keep my hands from shaking. “Why are we back to this?” I muttered, not meeting his gaze.
His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, and I could feel his curiosity pressing down on me. But then he nodded, stepping back with a shrug. “Alright, alright. I’ll let it go—for now!”
I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the small reprieve. As I took a bite of my sandwich, I couldn’t help wondering just how long I could keep my past under wraps. Real was persistent. And deep down, I knew that eventually, I’d have to face the truth I’d been trying so hard to leave behind.
I watched him leave the kitchen, thinking maybe, just maybe, he’d finally dropped the subject. But a few minutes later, he strolled back in, determination plastered across his face.
“Everly,” he said, leaning against the counter. “I said I’d leave it alone for now—but now, it’s later.”
I sighed. This fool . Fuck it. Maybe if I laid it all out, he’d finally back off.
“Alright, Real,” I said, my voice resigned. “You wanna know about my past? Fine. Here it is.”
His eyes darkened with a mix of anticipation and concern, and I took a deep breath, letting my mind drift back to a different time.
“For a while, I worked in Georgia. While there, I met someone and we ended up in an… arrangement. He was a Saudi oil heir.”
Closing my eyes, I told Real about the experience that had prompted me to change my identity.
At first, I enjoyed our arrangement. He was generous, showering me with gifts, and meeting my needs. I had a grand vision that needed money to see it to fruition. Raouf Muhammad agreed to my rules and seemed to value my time and attention. But then he started wanting more when I didn’t.
Although I didn’t date others while dealing with him, I couldn’t have him taking my choice away. He gave me an ultimatum, offered marriage. That was when things got complicated. I cut him off, thinking that would be the end of it. But it wasn’t.
He kept sending gifts, paying for things, showing up unannounced. It was suffocating, like being trapped in a gilded cage. He refused to leave me alone. Raouf wasn’t acting unhinged, exactly, but more like a whiny brat that couldn’t have his way.
One night, I came home, feeling that prickling sensation on the back of my neck—a feeling like I wasn’t alone. I’d just worked a double, so my mind was a mess. I shrugged my suspicions off, blaming exhaustion, and headed to the shower. The need to get the germs from the past day off my skin was all I could focus on.After my shower, I moisturized my body, then wrapped myself in a bath sheet. As I stepped into my bedroom, I froze. Raouf stood in the middle of my room.
When our eyes deadlocked, he gave me a smile that chilled me to my bones. His normally expressive eyes were lifeless—making the smile seem threatening instead of inviting. He gestured toward the bed, and my eyes widened in shock. It was covered in rose petals, scattered gifts scattered, and thousands of dollars in cash spread out like some obscene display. My heart pounded in my chest like a trapped bird.
“I love you, Everly,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “The day you left me was the worst of my life. Only the thought of getting you back kept me going.”
Speechless, I stared at him as he kept on, proclaiming his love and undying devotion. He wanted me permanently. “ Everly, girl ,” I heard the voice in my head, “ you in danger .” I had to get him to leave.
I forced a polite smile, fear coiling in my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice steady despite the fear. “I can’t do that. You understood the rules when we first started this arrangement. Either of us has a right to walk away—and that’s what I decided to do. You need to leave.”
I had to promise to meet him the next day to get him out. Once he was gone, panic surged through me, and I did the only thing I could think of—I called my cousin Ajani. He arrived within hours. Working with his partners Prime and Braeden Christopher, he helped me disappear into the night.
After recounting the story, I looked at Real, expecting judgment or disbelief. Instead, he just nodded, his expression unreadable.
“Damn, Everly,” he said softly.
“Yeah,” I replied, letting it all settle over me. “Now you know.”
“That’s crazy, Love. Thank God Prime is good at what he does.”
“Prime, Ajani, and Braeden. You have no idea. They tapped me into a world I never knew existed. After that night, I got a crash course in how to adapt like a chameleon. They made me a ghost to the world. It changed the game for me and how I conduct… business.”
He looked at me for a long minute. “You know I’m not that nigga? I ain’t tryna force nothing,” he said.
I nodded. “I know.”
Real blew out a long breath, “He was crazy, but I understand why he went off the deep end. That pussy has liquid gold, birthday cake, and a grandma muumuu with pockets tucked inside of it. I’m half gone over the pussy, too.”
I kissed my teeth. “Ugh! Shut your ass up! You get on my damn nerves.”
Montréal laughed, pulling a reluctant smile from me before sobering up and staring into my eyes with a dark intensity.
“Thanks for telling me,” he said finally.
“It doesn’t matter,” I replied.
“You just don’t know how much it does,” he countered.