Chapter One #2
Boe’s eyes shifted to Nyla for the first time since he entered the room.
He studied her pretty face, warm brown skin, and beautiful curls.
She looked just like her mama, but the small details were all him.
She had his rich brown complexion, the shape of his eyes, and even those flat feet with no hint of an arch.
A flicker of guilt crossed his face, then vanished.
He didn’t even know how to be a father to her, if he was being honest.
“Did you hear what the fuck I said earlier? You must not have. This nigga Preach will kill all of us. You talking about surviving? This is surviving. Getting the fuck outta here.” He glanced back at Nivéa.
“I’ll take my chances. I suggest you do the same.”
Nivéa adjusted Nyla in her arms with one hand while edging her body protectively between her and Boe as he stepped closer.
Too close. Her pulse skyrocketed as his brows suddenly furrowed, but she didn’t move.
She held her ground as he stared down at her, taking his time.
For a second, she wondered what the hell was going through his head, and why he was analyzing her.
“What the fuck is this on your neck?” He asked, rhetorically.
“None of your business.”
Boe dragged his tongue over his bottom lip, anger rising quickly as his eyes traced every hickey Crown had deliberately left behind. He spotted them when she shifted Nyla in her arms.
“So this why you been acting salty with me? You fuckin’ wit’ somebody else?”
He reached for her neck to get a better look, but Nivéa slapped his hand away instinctively.
“Again, not your business.”
“Yeah, aight,” he nodded, rage coursing through him. “You lucky I got bigger shit to deal with right now. But we gon’ circle back to that fasho.” He scanned the living room before locking his gaze back onto hers. “Where’s your phone?”
Nivéa stared at him, refusing to answer until he reached out aggressively again, trying to search her. “Boe, what the fuck?” she stammered, her free hand slapping his, trying to pry him away. “Stop!” she said frantically, clutching Nyla. “Stop. What the fuck?!”
“Then give me your muthafuckin’ phone. I’m not playing with you.” He pushed her, leaving her back at square one, unable to read him.
Fear gripped Nivéa as she scrambled to grab her phone from the couch, tucked beneath the blanket she had just been under, and handed it to him.
“Unlock that shit and open your bank app.” He ordered, a storm of emotions churning within him…fear, jealousy, anger. The realization that she had moved on and someone else had touched what he still believed belonged to him shattered any sensitivity he once had for her.
Nivéa swallowed the lump in her throat and complied. As soon as the Satin Hills Federal Bank app opened through face recognition, Boe snatched the phone from her hand.
Checking: $776.66
Savings: $15,285.96
He nodded slowly. It wasn’t nearly enough to run from The Dessalinés Mob, but it was something, and something was better than nothing.
Boe glanced at her. “I don’t give a fuck what you don’t wanna do. We leave in the morning. Go pack.”
∞∞∞
After packing, Nivéa sat stiffly on the couch, Nyla tucked tight against her chest. It was seven thirty-six p.m., and sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.
She kept tending to her baby, holding her a little closer than usual, too afraid that if she nodded off for even a second, Boe would do something even crazier than he already had.
Nivéa’s anxiety was through the roof. Her thoughts collided as she searched for a way out of the situation. Leaving with Boe in the morning wasn’t an option, no matter how many bags she had packed. But fighting him and trying to make a run for it wasn’t smart either. She had Nyla to think about.
Biting down on her bottom lip, Nivéa scanned the living room before glancing back at Boe. He tore his gaze from the TV and locked onto her, making it clear he was still alert and sharp. He hadn’t fallen asleep either. He was too busy watching her and worried she’d try something.
“You need to calm down.” He told her, as if he weren’t holding her hostage.
“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down in a situation like this?”
“I don’t know, but figure it out. You acting like we haven’t been together and in love for four fuckin’ years. Like you don’t know me. Just chill out. Don’t try anything stupid.”
I don’t know you at this point. She thought, but she didn’t dare voice it.
Instead, Nivéa let out a slow breath and leaned back into the couch, staring straight ahead.
No matter how many times he told her to chill, her mind refused to slow down.
Part of her hoped Caresha would pop up unexpectedly, loud and reckless like she sometimes did.
But she knew better. It was way too late for that.
Earlier, Caresha had mentioned she had to report to work early in the morning to work a double, which meant she would be calling it a night sooner than usual.
Then there was Crown. The thought of him settled heavily in her chest. She wished he would pop up and save her, even though she had begged him to stay away and just let her be. She had learned that if anyone could handle Boe, it was him.
God, she thought to herself, thinking she had no way out. But then another hour passed, and her phone went off, sparking an idea for how she could possibly escape the nightmare. The sound sliced through the quiet. Agitated, Boe pulled her phone from his pocket and shut it off.
“What the fuck you got an alarm set for this late?”
Nivéa hesitated before answering, taking a moment to breathe. “Ny usually wakes up around nine, and I give her a bottle. I set it early so I can have it warmed for her.”
It was a lie…a good one.
The truth was, she set that alarm every night to remind herself to activate the security system Crown had installed. After going so long without one, it wasn’t yet second nature for her, so she made it part of her routine. Before lying down, she would go into the app and set the house.
And right then, clarity hit her.
A wave of relief washed over Nivéa as the realization set in.
All she had to do was get to her phone and press the panic button, triggering the silent alert.
But that wasn’t possible because Boe had her phone.
Her thoughts quickly darted to the touchscreen panel mounted in the kitchen.
However, that wasn’t an option either, at least not right now.
Not with him watching her every move like a hawk.
He hadn’t let her out of his sight since he arrived, even following her to the restroom.
Nivéa shifted slightly on the couch, her heart pounding and her mind racing. She had a way out, but had to figure out how to reach it before it was too late.
“What are you doing?” She snapped, jolting from her thoughts when she noticed Boe scrolling through her phone. The last thing she needed was for him to find the home security app.
“Where the fuck did you meet Ahmad?” He asked, hatred burning in his eyes.
Nivéa rolled her eyes and exhaled, irritation bubbling up as she realized he was digging through her messages. But what frustrated her most was that he wasn’t even pronouncing Crown’s name correctly.
“Does that even matter?”
“Hell yeah, it matters. Who the fuck is that? And where’d you meet him? You got hearts next to the nigga’s name and shit.”
There was no way she was telling him about her t-shirt business and how she had met Crown there. Thinking fast, she reached for the first lie that felt believable.
“The gas station. He asked for my number.”
Boe stared at her for a long moment before scrolling through her photos.
He noticed that the last few were of her and Nyla, with only one featuring the new nigga.
He paused, studying the image closely. He swore he recognized the partially visible figure of Crown, but the shot was mostly obscured by Nivéa, who was lying against his chest rather than focusing on his face.
The only discernible features were Crown’s beard, lips, and chest.
“You fucked this nigga?”
“Did you fuck the bitches you cheated on me with?” Nivéa shot back before she could stop herself. Anger drowned out fear. His audacity was too much.
“Yeah, aight. You got me fucked up. Whatever the fuck you had going on with this nigga is over. Believe that. I’m home.”
Nivéa didn’t bother to respond. She just swallowed hard as she watched him delete the photo and every message between her and Crown. His number vanished along with them, leaving a hollow ache in her chest.
The rest of the night felt like hell. Sleep never came, despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on her body.
The television played old episodes of Martin, but even her favorite show couldn’t ease her nerves.
Nyla woke every two or three hours to nurse, and each time, Nivéa held her close, letting the baby’s warmth ground her amid the chaos.
She stayed awake. Waiting. Thinking. Praying that morning wouldn’t come before she found a way to reach the alarm panel. But that had been pointless. Morning came anyway, and when it did, she was running on fumes and pure survival just like Boe.
“Boe,” she called softly, watching his head dip forward. “Boe.”
His eyes popped open at the second call and the sound of Nyla's soft cries. “Yeah?” he answered, his voice thick with sleep.
“I need to make Ny a bottle.”
“Why can’t you breastfeed like you’ve been doing?”
“I’m sore. I rotate to give my body a break.”
Boe sighed, clearly too tired to argue or get up. “Go. But don’t do anything stupid. I’m telling you, shit changes between us if you play with me.”
Nodding, Nivéa stood slowly with Nyla still attached to her arms, careful not to seem eager.
“Nah, she stays. Bring her here.”
Her heart jumped. “You don’t know anything about holding or taking care of a baby. She’s crying.”
“She gon’ be straight. Bring her here.”
“No.”
“Nivéa.”
“I’m not bringing my child to you, so stop fuckin’ asking.” She shifted into mama bear mode.
“You know what…” Boe sucked his teeth, agitation flashing across his face as he rubbed his temple. The lack of sleep had given him a brutal migraine. “Then put her in the muthafuckin’ swing! And calm your ass the fuck down.”
Anger and fear consumed Nivéa. Everything in her wanted to argue and take Nyla with her anyway.
But she held back. This was their only way out, and she couldn’t afford to fuck it up.
Maybe leaving Nyla behind would work in her favor.
She couldn’t move as fast with her attached to her chest, and right now, speed mattered more than comfort.
With shaking hands, Nivéa eased Nyla into the swing.
She pressed a kiss to her baby’s forehead, sliding the pacifier into her mouth before straightening and turning toward the kitchen.
Her heart was pounding so loudly it felt like thunder in her ears.
She just had to get to that alarm while he was too tired to follow her.
Nivéa moved into the kitchen, aware that Boe’s eyes were glued to her from the couch. She knew that was the only reason he wasn’t trippin’ too hard. From where he sat, he could still see most of her movements, just enough to feel in control.
She opened the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle, and placed it in the warmer.
Her hands shook slightly, but she kept her movements slow and routine, acting as if this was just another morning.
As the warmer hummed to life, her mind went into overdrive.
Every second mattered. After a moment, she said fuck it and shifted toward the left side of the kitchen. It was now or never.
“Aye, what the fuck you doing?” Boe barked.
Nivéa’s heart slammed against her ribs, but she kept moving. “Grabbing a burping cloth. I keep some in the cabinet.”
Before he could respond, she reached up and opened the top cabinet door with her right hand. The door momentarily blocked his view, just enough. She heard the couch creak as his weight shifted, and she quickly pressed and held the icon on the panel for two seconds with her left hand.
Snatching the burping cloth, she closed the cabinet and turned around as if nothing had happened.
She stepped away, meeting him halfway into the kitchen, cloth in hand.
Boe’s eyes dropped to her hands, scanning them cautiously.
Seconds dragged as he searched for something sharp and dangerous she could use to attack him with.
When he found nothing but the burping cloth, his shoulders eased.
“Stay where the fuck I can see you.” He warned.
“Hm,” Nivéa mumbled, turning back to the counter as if she hadn’t almost passed out from fear.
She grabbed the bottle from the warmer, carefully swirling it while Boe hovered nearby, watching her every move. Once she was finished, and they retreated to the couch, her phone began ringing.
Boe cursed under his breath, reached into his pocket, and pulled it out, wondering who was calling her so early. His first thought was that annoying ass Caresha, but unfortunately for him, it wasn’t her. His eyes narrowed as he read the screen.
Allied Defense Technologies
“Yo,” he said, panic creeping into his voice. “Why the fuck is a security company calling you?”
Nivéa froze, her stomach dropping as she silently cursed herself. In all the chaos, she had overlooked the technician’s warning that they would call before sending anyone out. She had been so focused on escaping that she hadn’t thought beyond pressing the button.
Nivéa didn’t respond, but Boe wasn’t stupid. His eyes narrowed as he shot up from the couch, scanning the walls in the kitchen. It didn’t take long for his gaze to land on the small touchscreen panel mounted near the cabinet where she had just been.
“Fuck,” he cursed.
In seconds, he was back in the living room, on her ass.
The gun came up fast, pressing against her temple.
Nivéa’s breath caught, shock freezing her in place.
Their past certainly hadn’t been pretty, but she never imagined Boe would go this far.
Tears burned behind her eyes as panic flooded her chest. He was doing this right in front of their baby, just as she squatted down to lift Nyla from the swing.
“What the fuck did I tell you? You think this a game?!”
“Boe, stop. Please. Take my bank card and just go. I’ll give you the PIN. Please.” Nivéa pleaded, her voice trembling.
He ignored her, shoving the phone in her face. “Answer it. Act normal. Tell them you hit that shit by mistake and that you fine. Or this won’t end well for you.” His voice dropped dangerously low when she hesitated.
“Nivéa bro, I’m telling you… If them niggas come, I’ll make going back to jail count, luv.”