Epilogue
Kenyon
THREE YEARS LATER. . .
I sat at the long, glass-topped table in the office. On a conference call, with my assistant reviewing the latest updates with the app developers.
"We’re almost there," one of the developers spoke into the camera. "The beta tests for the app are solid, but we need to streamline the matchmaking for the league events."
"That’s gotta be seamless. If it’s not, sponsors will walk. Throttle House depends on running like a well-oiled machine. Every driver and team must be able to get on this app and race without a single hitch."
This wasn’t just about racing anymore. It was now a legit business, and I couldn’t afford any slip-ups. The conference call wrapped up with the usual goodbyes. My mind was already racing ahead to the next steps. Pushing back my chair, I stood up, stretching the tension from my shoulders.
The polished office space reflected a life I never imagined for myself, but here I was, owning it. Cars and races were the heartbeat of my empire now, not the streets or what came with it.
I walked out of the conference room, the sound of my footsteps swallowed by the thick carpet as I made my way to my office. It was almost time to pick up Kyce from my Mom’s, but I had more emails to send. We needed to get more garages on board and solidify sponsor agreements.
“I’m impressed,” Kross said as I turned the corner.
“I don’t know why. I’ve always had better taste than you.”
“Aite, now you’re going too far.” Kross followed me down the hallway to my office.
I waited for the soft click behind me before asking, “What fake emergency brought you here today?”
“Maybe I’m just checking on my little brother,” Kross said, his tone playful, but his eyes told a different story. “I’m proud of you, Keyes.”
I walked over to the window, hands in my pockets, and glanced at the parking lot below, filled with rows of sleek cars. As much as I wanted to take credit, this was all Zara’s brainchild.
Throttle House was a garage and car club where members could come to customize their rides, trade parts, and talk shop. We also organized sanctioned events with sponsorships, contracts, and a league of car clubs nationwide. Throttle House was the headquarters, of a racing circuit that blended the adrenaline of street racing with the professionalism of motorsports.
We had app developers creating platforms for fans, teams building their own brands, and sponsors lining up for a piece of the action. What started as a way to make money off my love for cars was on its way to being a full-blown empire.
“No way you came down here just to say that, so what do you want?”
Kross chuckled, the sound low and familiar. “I need you to talk to Zara for me.”
It still took some getting used to hearing other people call her Zara, not just me.
“About what?”
“I need some help at the club,” My brows dipped in a way that made Kross’s mouth form a straight line. “Not that kind of help nigga.”
“Then what the hell do you need her help for, and why are you asking me?”
Zara was her own woman. She didn’t need me policing her every move, but certain things weren’t an option now that Kyce was here, and dancing at the club was one of them.
“Megan left. I need help keeping things afloat until I can get someone new full-time.”
“She left because you wouldn’t fuck her? Or did she leave because you stopped fucking her?”
“Focus Keyes. I hit her up, but she hasn’t replied yet.”
“So you’re trying to slut me out to get Zara to say yeah?”
“You’ve let her slut you out for less, so what’s the problem?” Kross joked.
“Fuck you, nigga. If Babygirl hasn’t answered, I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“Since we’re not washing any of the money here, the club must stay afloat. To do that, I need help so I can focus on that and not all the other shit.”
That was my one stipulation when I agreed to Javier’s deal. Throttle House had to remain clean, with no ifs, ands, or buts.
“Then speed up the recruitment process and get some help.”
“.”
“I’ll ask, but that’s the best I can do,” I replied, packing up because it was my favorite time of day.
Kross was right. The club was important, but I wasn’t sure if Zara was the solution. We were busy enough trying to balance Kyce, each other, and our own obligations. We walked out of the building discussing possible solutions when when Romello caught up with us.
"Yo, Keyes hold up," he called, jogging over from the garage.
"What’s up?" I asked, turning to face him.
Romello shifted his weight, looking a little unsure. "One of the suppliers sent the wrong setup for the throttle systems, and now the teams can’t test the builds. We’re running out of time before the qualifiers.”
I frowned, rubbing my chin. That wasn’t something we could afford to mess up this close to race day. "You’re sure it’s on them? Not a mistake on our side?"
"Yeah, I triple-checked the specs. It’s definitely on them," Romello said, his tone firm. "But we’ve got no time to wait for replacements unless we expedite the order. I need to know if I should push for the swap or try to make these parts work for now."
I nodded, glancing briefly at Kross, who didn’t say a word, just watching the exchange. "Expedite the replacements, but see how you can keep things on schedule. I don’t want us falling behind this close to the season opener."
Romello looked relieved, nodding quickly. "I’ll handle it."
"Thanks," I said, and as he jogged back toward the garage. We continued toward the exit without a word, and Kross chuckled, “What’s so funny?”
“You. I never thought you’d be so cool with a nigga that fucked your girl.”
“Then you don’t know me that well. If she’s mine, he could never fuck her and watch your mouth,” I warned.
“Talk to Zara for me, and I’ll hit you later,” Kross tossed his hand up, strolling to his car while I climbed in mine.
My jealous side only came out when I couldn’t have Zara myself. Something about other people having her in a way I couldn’t triggered my insecurities. After all the shit we’d been through, I wasn’t worried about Romello or any other man. He was smart and knew cars well, so when he applied, I hired him. I had never been the type to stop a nigga’s money, especially when he had a baby of his own on the way.
Zara had to fill in at the studio last minute, so Kyce had been with my mom all morning. The thought of seeing my little girl made everything else fade into the background.
Letting myself in the house didn’t feel as dull and stark anymore with Kyce’s toys everywhere. Mom tried to hide her happiness when I told her Zara was pregnant, but it gave her something to do as a retired homemaker and widow.
Kyce Amour Keyes was the happiest baby I had ever seen. Zara said I was biased. I didn’t rule it out because my baby was perfect.
“Thanks for watching Kyce.” I leaned down and kissed my mother’s cheek before scooping my mini-me in my arms.
“I told Zara she could stay the night.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” I replied, attacking her chubby cheeks with kisses that made her try to wiggle out of my arms.
“You should because she got the same text you did.”
“Well, I’m here now.”
Kyce grabbed my face and said, “Da-Da!”
“Wassup baby?”
“I no baby!” she pouted.
“You’re my baby!” Kyce squealed so loud when I tickled her side she made both me and mom laugh too.
“I’m starting to think you’re trying to keep my grandbaby from me,” Mom said.
“I’m starting to think you’re trying to kidnap my baby.”
“You don’t let her stay long enough.”
“You wanna stay here with Gammy or come home with Daddy?”
My mom smiled wide, and Kyce looked back and forth between us. Then she exclaimed, “Gammy!”
“Goodnight. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“What did you do to my baby?” I frowned.
“I promised her ice cream earlier, and you know my girl doesn’t forget a thing.”
Shaking my head, I kissed Kyce’s cheek, and she wiggled out of my lap and went back to playing with all the shit Loriann bought sprawled across the floor.
“How was work today?”
“It was cool. I need to go home and review these contracts.”
“All the more reason you shouldn’t have come. Enjoy your night off. You and Zara deserve it.”
“You’re kicking me out, huh?”
“I am,” she smiled, patting my leg.
“Aite, but I’m coming to get my baby tomorrow.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” she chucked, shaking her head.
“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
Scooping Kyce up bridal style, I smothered her in kisses one last time before heading home to finish some work and unwind.