Chapter Four. #2
“We gotta talk, ma.” Crown said.
“Okay, but first, I’m gon’ feed you.”
Without another word, Nivéa moved to the microwave.
A few hours earlier, she had accepted that he likely wouldn’t make it home in time to share the dinner she’d prepared for them.
Still, she had fixed him a plate anyway.
She could never bring herself to believe he should come home to an empty kitchen, especially considering how much he took care of her.
Nivéa removed the foil, unveiling her homemade chicken and shrimp Alfredo, then slid the plate back into the microwave. As it warmed, she opened the refrigerator and grabbed his favorite drink. After twisting the cap loose, she set both items in front of him.
“Preciate you, baby.” Crown reached for the fork, but Nivéa gently took it from his hand.
“I got you, big man.”
She pulled a chair beside his, dug into the Alfredo, and lifted the first bite toward his lips.
Crown didn’t argue; he opened his mouth and let her feed him as if he were a child.
The kitchen remained quiet, except for the occasional scrape of silverware against his plate.
Every few bites, Nivéa would wipe a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth with a napkin before handing him his drink.
They sat in silence, their eyes meeting occasionally. Crown’s gaze reflected exhaustion, guilt, and gratitude, while Nivéa’s held concern, patience, and unconditional love. Once the plate was empty, she gathered the dishes and washed them.
“Come on.” She said afterwards, and Crown followed her upstairs.
In their bedroom, Nivéa went straight to the dresser, pulling out a pair of shorts and boxers before carrying them into the bathroom. She turned on the shower, adjusting the water until steam gradually filled the room.
When she glanced back, Crown stood where she’d left him, shoulders slumped and eyes distant, leaning against the wall.
She undressed herself before walking over and gently taking off his vest, slipping his shirt over his head.
She placed his guns where he preferred. One on the nightstand, the other tucked under his pillow.
So comfortable with this man now, she knew him through and through.
Afterward, she took his hand, and together they stepped into the restroom and into the shower.
She’d already had her bath for the night, but that didn’t matter to her… he did.
Beneath the warm stream of water, Nivéa worked the bodywash into a sponge and gently cleaned the dried blood from his knuckles first, being careful not to apply too much pressure. Then she slowly washed over his shoulders, chest, and back, her touch tender enough to soothe his soul.
Crown stood still, allowing her to care for him in a way no one else ever had…
ever could. When she finished, Nivéa set the sponge aside and wrapped both arms around him.
Standing on her toes, she pressed a soft kiss against his chest, then another against his jaw, followed by one against his cheek, and finally one against his forehead.
Each kiss conveyed what words couldn’t express.
I miss you.
I love you.
You’re home, and I’m happy you made it.
You’re not carrying this shit alone.
I got your back.
In return, Crown wrapped his arms around her, resting his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes, allowing himself, if only for a moment, to stop being the president of the Knights and simply be her husband.
When they finished showering, they climbed into bed.
Crown lay against the headboard while Nivéa rested against his side, her head on his chest. The room was dark except for the soft glow of the fireplace.
Eventually, Crown broke the silence with the latest news.
Honestly, he didn’t want to bother her with it, but he knew he had to tell her to keep her safe.
And the shit with Smoky? He needed to vent to someone about it.
Crown explained that Preach was still a problem. If anything, things had only gotten worse between them. Until he handled it, he wanted her back working from home. He couldn’t risk someone making a move on her to get to him. He wasn’t asking; he was telling her.
Nivéa listened without interrupting, feeling a mix of worry and frustration.
She didn’t like it. She’d just gotten back into the rhythm of being in her boutique again.
Business was picking up, and her confidence was growing.
But she also understood the gravity of what Crown was saying.
If there was even the slightest chance someone could use her to get to him, then staying home was in her best interest.
Nivéa’s mind wandered back to Boe. Even from the grave, he was still wreaking havoc.
If he hadn’t betrayed Preach, if he hadn’t made the decisions he’d made, none of this would’ve happened.
There would’ve been no war, no sleepless nights, no wondering whether her husband would make it back home alive.
Boe had managed to continue to destroy her life even after losing his own.
Still, as much as Nivéa worried about the danger outside those walls, her heart remained fixed on the conversation Crown had shared about Smoky. She lifted her head to look at him.
“So…what are you gon’ do about Smoky, baby? He’s your best friend. He can’t help what he likes or who he loves. Love is love.”
As strange as the revelation had been, Nivéa didn’t judge Smoky, especially after Crown made it clear that his wife knew and was okay with it.
Then there was Maino. She’d spent years around Boe’s family, and despite all the chaos that surrounded them, there had been one person she genuinely cared for…
Maino. He’d always treated her with kindness and respect when she and Boe were together.
Whenever Boe embarrassed her or disappeared for days, Maino never made excuses for him.
If anything, he’d quietly check on her to ensure she was okay.
He’d also put Boe in his place, respectfully.
And though his advice never worked on Boe, she appreciated him for trying.
He was the only person in Boe’s family who had sent gifts and flowers to the hospital when he’d heard she went into labor. No one else was to be found.
Nivéa knew Maino was a good man. Knowing Smoky had found someone like that brought her an unexpected sense of happiness.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized that’s why she had never seen Maino with a girl.
Because he was so low-key, she really didn’t put much thought into it at the time.
“I don’t give a fuck about nobody’s preferences, ma. What the next man eats don’t make me shit. That doesn’t bother me. Did it shock me? Hell yeah. Knock the wind out of me if I’m keeping it a hunnin’. But I ain’t doin’ no trippin’. I still love him the same. Him being gay isn’t my issue.”
“Then what is?”
Crown stared toward the ceiling, searching for a way to explain. He wanted to answer her truthfully, but there were parts of his world he refused to bring into hers. She already carried enough being with him.
“It’s this nigga Maino that’s the issue for me.”
Nivéa sighed.
“I know you might not like him because of everything that happened with Boe. But I told you, he’s nothing like him. Maino is a good guy. He’s—"
“It’s more to it than that. Way more.”
“Well, how much more?” Nivéa was curious to know, he’d only shared with her who Smoky had been dealing with, not the other drama surrounding it.
Crown looked at her for a long moment before shaking his head.
He wasn’t going there with her. He wasn’t telling her the clubhouse had been shot up or that he was worried about Maino snitching to Detective Lawson.
That would only make her worry more. Instead, he leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss against her cheek.
“Can’t tell you all that.”
“But baby—”
“It’s a lot more than you know, ma. I’m dealing with it, though. Don’t worry about it.”
Nivéa knew that tone. The conversation was over. She had learned Crown well enough to understand there were parts of his life he wanted to carry alone. Not because he didn’t trust her or wanted to be an asshole, but because he loved her too much to make her carry them with him.
Instead of pushing him to share what he wasn’t ready to say, Nivéa nodded, hoping the burden he carried wouldn’t become too heavy for him. After a while, they settled back into each other and eventually fell asleep.