Page 34 of Good As Hell

“You punished Lovie-Belle.” I remind him of when he denied her the job of a lifetime, because he couldn’t stop obsessing over her.

“Yes, and I regret it. You can’t take her dreams from her. Father tried that with us and you see where that got him. He was left with nothing until Lovie-Belle convinced us all these years later to relent.” His reminder causes a chink to form in the armor around my heart. Until the reality of what she did ices it over. Just as it does every time I dare to think about it. I’m not sure I will ever forgive her treachery.

“And what would you have done if she kept your son from you?” Challenging him in return, I watch his jaw flex before he spears me with a look of resignation. “We share the same DNA. You know exactly what the fuck I’d do — the same thing you did. So is that why you made her a consort? To leave room for a true queen?”

“Fuck no,” I snap. “Lyric is the only wife I will ever have.” Heat suffuses my neck. The flush is as hot as our lovemaking last night. I was late making it to my office after having her right after my morning prayers. The way I watched her sleeping form as I dressed is a thing of legend. Like some lovelorn janissary watching a maiden he knows he should not have. I had to drag myself away.

No matter what happens between us. I would not bring another into this marriage, knowing the turmoil it would cause my son and his mother. Yet, consort she shall remain until she stops plotting with Prosper Shipmoore to leave with my son.Putting another baby in her will solve that problem. It’s only a matter of time.

“Well alright then.” He smirks with a knowing that only one who shared a womb with me could have.

“Fuck you.” I tell him, my eyes narrowing, not liking the smug ass expression on his face.

“Oh, you’re doing that all on your own.” He tells me just as another knock sounds on the door and this time, my errant secretary pops his head in the door.

“Your Highness, Mr. Carrington is here.” He informs me of the appointment I was actually getting ready for — FADE.

Sadiq stands to move to my side. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t agree with my actions. In public, we always show a united front no matter who, no matter what. It could be no other way. He’s been my boon companion since we made our presence known. From the time I could remember, my brother has been my defender and I his. Even from our formidable mother when we would get into mischief when we were toddlers.

FADE’s tall form strides into the room dressed in his signature all white attire of low-slung jeans, Henley and jacket. The diamond and platinum necklace he famously wears to honor Delightful’s brother and his best friend, Justice, sparkles on his neck. His only other adornment is his wedding ring.

“The fuck, man,” he snarls, coming to stand before my desk. Cocking one leg over the other, I lounge back regrading the man who gave me and my brother the start that helped us build an empire when he let us produce his music videos. He took a chance on two unknown producers when no one else would.

The man who is as close to me as a brother. The best friend I’m not sure betrayed me. Lyric is also his best friend. Their history runs much deeper. One he never talks about. He is her first champion and, in many cases, her only defender when it comes to rumors of her diva like behavior.

“My exact sentiments — friend,” I growl with equal vehemence. “You want me to believe you knew nothing about my son when your life and my wife’s are so intertwined?” I scoff. “Get the fuck outta here, man. You’re lucky to make it out of my country without being sent to a black site, motherfucker.”

A low chuckle meets my words. “You’re wild as fuck, man. You know that? Think I haven’t already anticipated that shit? But Imma let you slide because I understand you’re upset over your family. The thing you need to understand about Lyric and will probably serve you well. Maybe even save your life — she’s a survivor. She knows how to handle her business and hold her secrets. Ain’t shit you gone know about her, she doesn’t want you to know. She operates on level that none of us as men have ever had to understand or deal with. When I asked her why she kept this from me, of all people, she said it was because she knew I would tell you because you’re my boy and she knows how much we hold each other down. She was scared you’d take her baby and damned if you didn’t. Then you disrespected her by making her consort when you know she’s only ever been a queen.” His anger is palpable as his hazel eyes rake over me with barely held violence. “The blogs are eating this shit up. You’ve made her a laughingstock, man. They out here calling my girl, “the queen of nothing, the royal side chick.”

The scathing words take me aback. I’d not thought outside of the fact that I didn’t want to empower her beyond her household, especially after I found out about her reaching out to that nuisance, Prosper Shipmoore.

“I’ll handle it,” I tell him.

“See that you do. She was wrong not to tell you about Ayaan. Sometimes our women have to go to extremes when dealing with motherfucker’s like us.” he stands his gaze is unwavering leaning forward to offer his fist he adds. “Your son is beautiful, man. Despite having your ugly mug. Makes sense why she didn’t showhim to anyone. He’s both of y’all’s splitting image.” He nods to me and Sadiq for emphasis.

Reaching out, I dap him up. “Thanks man, I’ll set you straight on any blow back with the tour.”

“Just treat her right, motherfucker. She’s had it harder than all of us coming up.” Waving my words away, his own are solemn.

Saying nothing, I wait for him to fill me in on the rest.

“She, Justice, and me were the three musketeers from Headstart onwards. We used to say, “From the knee high to the tree high.” She could always sing, man. Singing “This little light of mine,” on the way to and from school. Said her real daddy sang it to her. Her daddy and mom were real young. Then he died in Iraq by a roadside bomb. But since they hadn’t got married yet, her mom didn’t get much because she wasn’t officially on any paperwork. When they finally got everything squared away and her moms finally started getting a little stipend, Rob was on the scene always fucking it up doing dumb get rich quick schemes or gambling it away. Whatever you gave him in bride price will probably be gone within a year and he’ll be back on your door step.”

Scrubbing his face like he wants to erase the memory he presses on. “Anyway, she was always performing at churches and little talent shows. Her parents didn’t want her singing with us because they felt rap was sinful or whatever. Then we got this chance to open for Tone Rich, the biggest promoter at the time after he saw us on YouTube. She and Justice were going to get married. We were all going to pursue our music — Ahem.” Clearing his throat, he takes a moment. Retelling Lyric’s much rawer, unfiltered part of the story than what we brought to film. “His being killed nearly destroyed all of us, but at least DiDi and I had our families. Lyric had no one. She ran away and joined me on tour a few months later and the rest is history. Herparents never forgave her. To be honest, I was surprised to see them here.” Finishing the abbreviated history, keeping as many secrets as he tells, he sits down, clasping his hands in a tight fist, facing me.

“All that diva shit is her way of making sure her fans get their hard, earned money’s worth. She loves them just as hard as they love her. She will give you that same loyalty, but you gotta come correct.” He shrugs like the ball is in my court.

Nodding, I go over to the locked cabinet taking out my hookah. A smirk spreads over my twin’s face. “You’ve had good hashish, but you haven’t had it this good.” I nod to Sadiq, “Brother, you do the honors.” I hand it over to him, opening the doors to my private garden. Following them out, I take a seat in the small private area just outside my office. From this vantage point, I can see Lyric and Ayaan playing outside of our private suite. They are far enough not to hear us and the way my terrace is elevated makes it so I can watch them unobserved like I do every day when they are outside and I have to work.

After we all toke from the pipe, I settle back, allowing the aroma and my friend’s words wash over me.

Perhaps I misjudged her. Still, keeping Ayaan’s existence from me is a bitter pill to swallow, yet I know there is no way of moving forward if I don’t. She has some proving to do in the trust department as well. Like the constant messages of her attempting to flee that my attendants intercept.

“That’s what’s up,” FADE says taking pull from the prepared pipe.

“Man,” he says, impressed, looking from me to my brother.

“Told you,” I say letting my brother have a turn first.

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