3. Maddox Creed #2
“How things looking over here?” Although he was no longer in the business, it still didn’t stop him from asking questions.
“Same as always.”
“Warehouse three?”
“Good.”
“The expansion?”
“Moving.”
“The properties?”
“Fine.”
Every answer came out short, dry and automatic, like I was reading from a script, and after the fourth question, Rozay stopped asking.
The room got quiet.
I continued staring at paperwork that wasn’t registering while he continued staring at me.
Eventually, he let out a slow breath and said, “A’ight.”
I looked up.
“A’ight what?”
“A’ight, enough of the bullshit.”
My jaw tightened as my eyes narrowed in confusion. “What bullshit?”
“The bullshit where you sit here acting like everything straight when it clearly ain’t.”
I looked back down at the paperwork. Rozay wasn’t buying it. Then again, he never did. Growing up with somebody had a way of ruining your ability to lie to them, especially when they shared your blood.
“I’m good.”
“No, you ain’t.”
I rubbed my hand across my beard and looked toward the window.
Outside, people continued moving through the warehouse. Forklifts rolled by. Employees loaded trucks. Business carried on like normal.
Meanwhile my whole damn life felt like it had been flipped upside down.
Rozay’s voice broke through my thoughts. “So, what’s up? What’s wrong?” He asked.
“Nothing.”
“Try that shit on somebody else.”
I chuckled, but for a second, neither one of us spoke.
Then Rozay leaned forward, resting his forearms against his knees.
“You sick?”
“No.”
“Something wrong with the baby or one of the kids?” That question made me immediately shake my head.
“No.”
“Luciana? She good?”
That one hit differently, making me look away, and that was all it took.
Rozay saw it. Every bit of it. His expression changed instantly to concern, real concern, because for all the shit we talked and all the times we got on each other’s nerves, one thing about us was simple.
Family was family.
“What happened?” he asked quietly.
I stared at the floor for several seconds before finally answering.
“Man…” The word died halfway out my mouth, because saying it out loud made it real. A lot realer than it already felt.
Rozay waited for me to gain my strength to speak up. He never rushed me or pushed me to spit it out. He just waited.
Then, finally, I leaned back in my chair and looked at my brother, dead in the eyes as I told him, “I found out my wife knew.”
Rozay’s brows pulled together as he studied my face. The longer I sat here without saying anything else, the more serious his expression became.
“Knew what?”
“She knew all this fucking time that I had a daughter.”
The room went completely quiet.
For once, Rozay didn’t have a smart comment ready. He didn’t have advice. Hell, he didn’t even have a question.
He just stared at me.
Then he leaned back in his chair slowly.
“Hold on… What the fuck you mean she knew?”
I rubbed my hand across my beard and went, “Exactly what I said.”
“Maddox…” His voice had changed now. From less disbelief to more concern. “How long?”
“Since Gia was pregnant.” The words tasted bitter coming out.
Rozay’s head dropped back against the chair. “Gotdamn.”
“Yeah. Same shit I said.”
“Since the beginning?”
“Yeah.”
For a few seconds, neither one of us spoke. Rozay was looking at the floor while I stared out the window.
My whole life felt like somebody had taken a sledgehammer to it.
Finally, Rozay asked, “How you find out?”
“Gia.”
His eyes bucked. “Gia told you?”
“She showed me.” I paused, chuckling to myself as I shook my head. “Showed me everything. She had paperwork with my wife’s signature and all.”
“Paperwork? Of the NDA?”
I just nodded.
Silence filled the air again. Then Rozay asked the question I knew was coming.
“What Luciana say? Like did she even try to deny it?”
I let out a laugh and said, “Deny it? Nigga, she couldn’t deny a gotdamn thing. The proof was sitting right there in her face.”
“Damn…” Rozay mumbled, running his hand down his face. “I mean, what she say?”
“Talking ‘bout some, she was scared.” Rozay dropped his head and shook it as I continued. “She said she was trying to protect our future…. Talking about protecting our relationship or some bullshit.”
That finally made him exhale. Not because he agreed and it wasn’t because he disagreed, but just like me, it was because he understood, but understanding something didn’t make it right.
“That’s some heavy shit,” he admitted.
“You think?”
“I’m serious…”
“Nigga, so am I,” I let him know, because I was dead ass serious.
“No, listen to me.” He leaned forward. “You got every right to be angry.”
“Angry?”
I shook my head and said, “Man, I don’t even know if angry the word.”
It wasn’t… angry was simple, and this wasn’t simple. No where near it.
“I met my daughter nine years late, Ro.” The words came out rough, tougher than I intended. “I been sitting around looking at pictures or when I’m with her all I can do is stare at her, trying to recognize my own child. You know how fucked up that feel?”
Rozay didn’t answer, and he didn’t need to. He just sat there for a long while before speaking.
“You blaming yourself too?” His question caught me off guard, making me look at him through dimmed eyes.
“The fuck I got to blame myself for?” I wanted to know.
“Ain’t none of this happen without Vegas.” I immediately looked away, but Rozay’s eyes stayed on me. “You ain’t the only victim in this.”
The words weren’t cruel. They were honest—brother honest—the kind of honest only family can get away with.
“You slept with her.” I said nothing. “You kept that shit to yourself. You came home and moved on with your life.”
My jaw tightened.
“And Luciana made everything worse.”
Rozay shook his head.
“What she did was wrong.”
“Very…”
“What she did was foul.”
“As fuck.”
“What she did was selfish.” I nodded, agreeing with all that shit. “But don’t sit here acting like this story started with her.”
That shit hit hard, because he was right. I hated it like a mothafucka, but he was right.
The room got quiet again.
Then Rozay leaned back in his chair and asked me, “So what you gon’ do?”
I just looked at my brother and told him the truth. I said, “I don’t know…”
The words sat heavy between us because they weren’t something I said often. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I said them.
Usually, I had a plan…
Usually, I knew my next move…
Usually, I knew exactly where the road in front of me was leading…
This time… I didn’t know a gotdamn thing, and that scared me more than anything.