Chapter 7
Brooks had never been the type to let technicalities stand in his way.
The voice of reason told him he had no business getting caught up in this, but something about Taylor reeled him in like a fish on a line.
He liked a woman who moved quietly, handled her business, and didn’t need to be the loudest in the room.
That was Taylor.
Always put together.
Always in control.
Until now.
His phone lit up with her name, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He sat up straighter, his pulse kicking up despite his attempts to stay cool.
Even after running out on him today, here she was, reaching out.
That meant something. She could say she just needed the security system installed, but Brooks had a feeling there was more to it, but she wouldn’t say. He didn’t push.
Brooks leaned back, running a hand over his beard as he typed his response.
Blake would have plenty to say about this. Her best friend? Off-limits, in theory. But he’d been quiet for too long, safe for too long. And Taylor made him want to move differently.
She didn’t know he was breaking free too. Not from a marriage, but from a version of himself he’d outgrown .
Blake had been on his case about getting a life outside of work, about letting people in instead of always being the one handling everything. He was trying to listen, but he was almost certain she never thought Taylor would be the person he let in.
A slow smile spread across his face thinking about her agreeing to one date.
That’s all he needed to show her a good time, to remind her that when she was ready, he’d still be right here.
Because while everyone else had been sleeping on her, he’d been watching, waiting, respecting boundaries until the timing was right.
Blake’s 25th birthday dinner was underway and the restaurant was packed. And at her request, everyone was to come in their very best. And what Blake wanted; she got. But that day the person he least expected sucked the air out of Vito’s.
Taylor.
Brooks had always known Taylor was cute in a polished, good girl way.
Always put together, always polite, always Blake’s little friend who had no business catching his eye.
But tonight, that wasn’t the case. Tonight, Taylor was giving everything.
She walked in claiming the attention of everyone she passed by. Including and most certainly his.
Her thick hair bounced in soft curls, framing her face just right. Her skin glowed, smooth and effortless, she wasn’t even trying. And the black dress snatching her in all the right places, paired with heels that had her legs looking longer than he remembered.
This wasn’t the Taylor he knew.
Brooks wasn’t even expecting her to be here. The plan was dinner first, then the club. He’d already assumed Taylor would gracefully bow out, because she wasn’t the type to be in anybody’s section, drinking under clouds of smoke. But here she was, shocking everyone.
His eyes lowered as he watched her throw her head back laughing at something Blake said, the sound spilling out light and easy. Then she looked down at him and smiled.
“Hey Brooks.”
And just like that, the whole damn room faded. That had never happened before. Anytime he was around, she was either scurrying off, avoiding his gaze, or glued to that nigga she was always with.
He scanned the table and didn’t see him, must be why she spoke. A slow smirk pulled at his lips.
“Hey.”
Blake was saying something, but Brooks wasn’t listening.
Not really. He was watching. Watching the way Taylor’s tongue flicked out to wet her lips before she spoke.
Observing how she tucked her hair behind her ear before leaning in for a selfie with one of their other friends.
Hit bit his lip as she turned, her bare shoulder lifted just slightly.
He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away before someone caught him slipping.
“You good, Brooksie?”
Blake’s voice pulled him back.
“Yeah,” Brooks muttered, his face back in a scowl. “I’m good.”
But he wasn’t. Because Taylor Bradshaw was forbidden fruit. And all he could think was what a damn shame that was.
Brooks leaned back, exhaling through his nose.
He’d kept that night tucked away, appreciating it for what it was.
That was over with. And he didn’t want to admire anything about Taylor from afar.
He’d pay for her divorce, pay for that nigga to get lost so he could take care of her.
Take care of what he was almost positive was supposed to be his.
That Taylor, that walked into the party was the Taylor he wanted to pull up with Saturday.
Fuck being sad. Fuck worrying about what anybody had to say.
Let’s get fly and have fun. Because people were going to talk and already had been.
She just didn’t know it. But wherever he took her no one would be worried about them, at least not anyone she knew.
Taylor deserved the best of everything, the kind of treatment she should have been getting this whole time. Brooks didn’t half-ass anything, especially not when it came to something he really wanted.
And spoiler alert, he now wanted Taylor any kind of way he could have her. If friendship was all she could offer right now, he would take it, until she was ready to offer him something else.
First, he had to put Tyree in his place and make sure he stayed there. Brooks’s shoulders tensed up thinking about the petty shit he was on. The minute Brooks heard he got out; he had put someone on him to keep an eye on his movements. That’s how he knew he’d shown up at her place tonight.
He shook his head thinking about her keeping it from him, but he understood why.
Taylor didn’t grow up the way he had. She didn’t get taught that sometimes violence was the only language certain men understood.
But Tyree had made a critical mistake showing up at her spot when he’d already been warned to stay away.
Brooks had hoped it wouldn’t come to a face-to-face, but some lessons had to be taught in person .
Brooks found Tyree exactly where his people said he’d be drowning what was left of his pride across town at the Drinkin’ Problems Bar. The moment Brooks stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. He didn’t do loud crowds and sticky floors anymore. It wasn’t his scene.
Tyree didn’t notice him approach, too lost in his vodka to sense his worst nightmare behind him.
Brooks studied him for a moment, remembering Taylor’s face that night he picked her up from work exhausted, humiliated, broken down by the man who’d sworn before God to protect her.
Just looking at Tyree’s pathetic ass slumped like a victim made Brooks’s hands itch.
“Listen.” Brooks’s voice cut through the bar noise as he settled onto the stool beside Tyree. He caught the bartender’s eye, and with one look, the man understood. Tyree’s glass wouldn’t be refilled.
“I hear you been showing up at Taylor’s house uninvited. That shit ends today.”
Tyree turned, alcohol giving him courage he’d regret. His eyes narrowed in recognition they’d crossed paths enough at Blake’s for him to know exactly who Brooks was.
“That’s between me and my wife. Why you worried about it?”
“Ex-wife soon enough,” Brooks corrected, his voice carrying that deadly calm that had made grown men tremble. “You made it my business the second you disrespected and disturbed her peace.”
“Oh, I see.” Tyree’s laugh was bitter. “It’s you that got her acting out. You want my wife? You fucking her? If so, you can have the boring bi- ”
Brooks moved faster than Tyree’s drunk mind could process. One hand gripped Tyree’s throat, the other pinned his wrist to the bar with enough force to make bones creak.
“Don’t do that. Choose your next words carefully,” Brooks whispered, close enough that only Tyree could hear. “Because they might be your last.”
Fear finally broke through Tyree’s drunken haze. He tried to swallow but couldn’t against Brooks’s grip.
“See, I got a special hatred for niggas who mistreat women,” Brooks continued, his voice still low but filled with assurance. “Makes me want to show them what mistreatment feels like. What real pain is.”
His fingers tightened slightly, making Tyree’s head on the bar. “You understand what I’m saying?”
Tyree’s light skinned face flushed red, his frantic nodding the only answer he could manage.
“When those papers come, you’ll sign them. And you’ll disappear from her life—quietly. Permanently. Are we clear?”
Brooks leaned in hoping to hear his answer. He let go and Tyree gasped and wheezed.
“We’re clear. Crystal clear.”
Brooks released him, watching with cold satisfaction as Tyree slumped forward, gasping. He wiped Tyree’s sweat off his hands and tossed the napkin his way.
His smile was all warning, tight lips, no warmth.
“You pop up again, it won’t be a convo—it’ll be condolences. And they’ll say ‘you fucked the city up with this one’. I don’t miss.”
When Brooks stepped into the night air, he inhaled deeply, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. A light laugh escaped his lips he’d never moved like this over a woman before. And he hadn’t had to yoke a nigga up in a while. He still had it in him.
If Tyree thought, he could keep playing with Taylor’s peace he would show him just how wrong he was.
He hoped Tyree was smart enough to take the warning. But if he wasn’t? A drinking problem would be the least of his worries. Brooks hadn’t forgotten how to make problems disappear permanently.