Prologue #2
I lifted my hair from my shoulders and turned from side to side.
“Hmph.”
The decision was hard. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wear it down, showing off the perfectly trimmed layers, or pull it up into a beaded claw clip.
Or a quarter up and the rest framing my face.
Or maybe a high ponytail. Loose. Messy.
I shifted my weight, staring at my reflection in the mirror as the options were being weighed.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
Whap!
My hands slapped against my thighs. I wasted little time getting to my vanity and retrieving my cell. I dialed in the board of advisors, knowing that the answer to my question was not far away.
As the FaceTime call began to ring, I peered at my reflection in the vanity mirror. Tonight’s itinerary rolled through my thoughts. Though my timeline was risky, I was certain everything on my calendar would be checked off before I returned to bed and rested my head.
“Who called? Is everything okay?” Rather answered, concern dripping in her tone.
“Hi,” Rome joined.
“Hi, everyone,” Roaman added.
“It was me. I called. Hi, Rugs.”
Rugger remained silent, waiting for the reason for the call to be mentioned.
“Everything is fine,” I explained. “I just don’t know if I want to wear my hair up or down or half up and the rest down or what– I just– I don’t want to disrupt the beauty of this dress.”
“It’s bomb, baby,” Roulette finally joined the call after Range.
“Isn’t it?” I scoffed.
“I love it,” Range admitted.
“Let’s see our options,” Rome suggested.
So many parts of her had changed over the last year. As we got more acquainted with the new layers of Rome, I was falling head over heels for her. Rome would always be Baby to us, but she was no longer a baby.
“Yeah,” Rugger sighed.
“Everything okay?” I asked her, wondering if all was well in her world.
“Yes. Just tired,” Rugger yawned. “Options.”
Her demand urged my movement.
“Oh. Yes. Right.”
I set my cell on the vanity and pulled my hair into a messy ponytail.
“This.”
I let a large portion fall down my back.
“This.”
I then let it all fall.
“This.”
Lastly, I used a pearl claw clip to hold it together at the back of my head.
“Or this.”
“Definitely not that,” Rome said.
“I’m torn between some of it being up and all of it hanging. Something about that twinge of hair being up, though. It gives an innocent but very lethal bitch,” Roulette explained.
“Well–” Range chuckled, “I mean– there’s truth there.”
“Where are you headed anyway?”
“On a date with the guy Brandon I have been telling you all about.”
“Finally giving that man a chance?” Roaman joked.
“I guess. He’s asked enough. Bought enough.” I shrugged. “I’m not optimistic. There’s this thing to be noted about guys who have been trying to get your attention for long periods.”
“First chance you give them, they will–” Range tittered.
“Exactly. But, trust me, sister… the chance to play with me will never surface,” I assured everyone.
“That wasn’t even considered. Not even a little,” Roulette claimed. “Niggas know.”
“If they don’t, then I can surely inform them,” Rugger replied.
“Hey now,” Rome interjected, “We don’t have to take it there.”
“The door is always open,” Rugger told me, ignoring Rome.
“Up or down guys?” I asked, toying with my hair so they could see the final options.
“Up.”
“Down.”
“Down.”
“Up.”
“Up.”
“Up.”
“Well, that settles it. I have a date and then another date after that, so I must get going.”
“My type of party,” Roulette cheered. “Why not together, though?”
“It’s not that type of party, Rou. I have business to handle after my date. It happens to involve a date as well.”
“Call me tomorrow, I was thinking lunch.”
“Lunch sounds doable, baby. I’ll call you.”
“I look forward to it.” Rome’s smile lit the light in the dark tunnel I often found myself headed down.
“Alright, ladies. Love you all. There’s not a lifetime I won’t.”
“Find me first. Leave the others to their madness for a minute,” Range proposed.
“That’s not fair,” Rome murmured, “But I can wait. Hopefully I’ve found the love of my lifetimes and I don’t have to wait alone.”
“Later.”
“Have fun.”
One goodbye after another came as the ladies left the call. I did the same before removing hairpins from the drawer of my vanity. There was a way to merge both styles without sacrificing the beauty of either.
I pulled my hair up as if I were forming a ponytail and placed bobby pins along the area meant for a hair tie or rubber band.
My reflection revealed the marrying of the two options.
Rome preferred my hair up. Range preferred it down.
I couldn’t disappoint either, so I made it work in both of their favors.
There.
Bzt.
Bzt.
My vibrating phone garnered my attention. I gazed at the screen. Pleasantries lulled me. I tapped the name at the very bottom of the blurred image of Jru.
A familiar text thread appeared. The face of a beautiful baby, less than a few weeks old, graced me. My heart sagged from the weight of the adoration I was overcome with.
Mercer, she’s beautiful.
My brother, from another mother and father, had a sure way of gutting me. Seeing him reacclimated with the public and flourishing was music to my existence. While I loved Malachi, Milo, and Makai, it was Mercer who held the most special place in my heart.
I could hardly think of Malachi without being overcome with emotions. My eyes welled as his face roamed in my head. I shook away the tears that surfaced.
Maylei. Another text came through.
A smile tore through my face. She was the perfect balance between Mercer and Vallei.
Kiss her cheeks for me. Stay well. I love you… in every lifetime.
I shut down the screen, certain there wouldn’t be a response. All that Mercer had to say had been said. He’d given me his quarterly life update through an image. It was fitting for him, and I looked forward to more updates. They always warmed me to the core.
Vallei had our daughter.
Her name is Maylei.
She’s precious.
I’m in love.
We’re all well.
His message was clear. I could only hope my joy was evident.
“Baby, I need your love. I need your love–” I sang along to Tink as I shifted gears.
Clarke’s skyline followed me like a narcissistic ex who couldn’t fathom the fact I’d moved on with my mind, body, and soul intact. As if I wasn’t supposed to. Not without him, at least.
“We’ve been fighting the urge. Holding it in–”
My head swayed in the wind. I silently thanked everyone who suggested pulling my hair up. The ponytail was serving its purpose. The few pieces hanging fought the wind until I slowed down to a creep at the red light. The roof of the Lamborghini was missing. So was my filter tonight.
And my patience.
And my kindness.
And my tolerance.
And my consideration.
I entered the parking garage at full speed. My wheels came to a screeching halt at the door. Once they split open, I pulled forward, slowly. Inside the large circle painted on the floor, I pressed the round button on the remote that was clipped to my visor.
I was instantly enclosed in a glass container that pierced the red line of the circle. I rested my head on the seat, exhaling deeply. The idea of ceilings gripped me by the lungs and squeezed.
No height is too high, baby.
Not even the sky is our limit. We're in that motherfucker every chance we get.
Whatever you think your ceiling is, it’s not. Ceilings don’t exist in our world, baby.
We don’t make goals, baby. We break them. And rules. And boundaries. And, anything that puts a limit on our capabilities.
Teddy’s words echoed in my heart. I could no longer hear Tink. All I heard was Chemistry. My belief that there were no limits to my life had left me with a slight struggle with claustrophobia. I hated enclosures, ceilings, roofs, and walls.
“Thank God.”
I stepped out of my car and allowed the door to close behind me. The door of my family’s loft opened for me without resistance. The full body scan had been in motion since my wheels stopped in the large circle, and my car was placed in park.
The new upgrades to our common space were impressive.
Chemistry wasn’t a fan of technology. However, Malachi had been bitten by the tech bug and convinced him to look into some changes he thought would work in our favor.
Better security for the sake of his girls was the winning phrase.
He was down for it. All of it. Any of it.
“Hello, home.”
It was the closest thing to our family’s home as I’d get since the passing of my dear Richie.
I tilted my head rightward at the thought of his corpse decomposing in the grave we’d dug for him.
The saliva dried in my mouth. My shoulders tried gathering at the center of my body.
I closed my eyes, begging the heaviness to bear with me.
Please.
When I opened my eyes, my spine straightened and my shoulders pulled apart. A deep breath allowed me to let go of what once was and focus on the tasks ahead of me. My eyes narrowed to slits as a smile swept my lips backward.
“I’ve got shit to handle.”
As the words exited my mouth, my attention departed. Footsteps near the door forced my hand against my thigh, clutching my Glock.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Knuckles against the door reminded me that I didn’t come to sit in solitude. In fact, I hadn’t come to sit at all.
Click.
Clack.
My heels collided with the floor as I unlocked my cell. The notification on my phone alerted me and all the others to the lurking presence. Dressed in black from his head to his toes, awaiting an answer, was Brandon Stemmons.
I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth. Not much had changed about him since the first time he’d asked me out, eight years ago.
If there was one thing I’d learned about choosing a man, it was that you never chose the man who had been after you for far longer than you’d like to remember.
Because, once they had you in their grasp, they would secretly seek vengeance for the wait they endured and the men you allowed in your space before them.