Page 114 of Tangled Hearts
Chanta stumbled to her feet, fury in her eyes even though she tried to look calm. She dug into her purse. Before she could even grip the handle of the gun, two cold barrels met her face. Hov had one pressed dead center. Rock appeared out of nowhere, aiming his too.
“I ain’t Christian,” Hov warned, his tone low and dangerous. “I will leave your body on the ground right now.”
Christian pushed through, yanking Rock back.
Rock swung his gun around and pointed it at him. “Nigga, I ain’t Hov… I don’t even like you.”
At the same time, at least four guns were aimed at Rock. Christian’s shooters were trained to shoot.
Hov’s brown eyes turned black, spit flying from his mouth. “I will bury every last one you niggas, if you don’t get those fuckin’ guns off him.”
“Oh, shit,” Noir’s eyes doubled in size at the scene before her.
“Christian, on everything I love, if they shoot him, you might as well put one in me too because I won’t sleep until your blood paints this city.”
Knycole swallowed hard knowing by the tone of Hov’s voice that he meant every word he said.
Rock laughed. “I don’t need you to do shit for me, nigga.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you need,” Hov said through gritted teeth, gun still on Chanta who was now crying. “And I ain’t never gave out an empty promise. On my life, I will put all you bitch ass niggas down,” he yelled his eyes scanning every man who had a gun out.
“On my mama,” Cash added, him and his security ready to air the park out.
Noir gripped her chest.
Christian’s blood boiled. His heart ached knowing Hov would always choose Rock over him. That truth hurt and not in no sucka ass way. It was painful because Christian had failed Hov—he’d have to explain one day but today, what Hov wanted, Hov would get. Even if the city started to question who was really in charge. “Drop your guns. Let the little nigga breathe.”
“Fuck you,” Rock spit but as he came up, Christian punched him in the mouth.
Rock recovered quick, throwing a blow of his own. They went back and forth for a while until Cash’s security broke them up.
Hov still had his gun on Chanta, unwilling to put it down.
“Christian,” Chanta cried.
Knycole snatched her purse, tossing it into the crowd. She wanted to beat her ass off the strength of her even thinking about pulling out a gun on Noir. Like, if that was what she had to do then maybe she shouldn’t have been doing slick stuff to Noir.
“Damn, Hov… you can put the gun down,” Christian said once he’d caught his breath.
Noir’s chest heaved as she realized what almost happened. Tears blurred her lashes as she spun on Christian, her voice breaking with rage. She slammed her palms against her chest over and over. “Look what you doing to me!” she screamed, spittle flying. “I could be dead right now, Christian! Do you even care? Do you even fuckin’ see me?” She punched her chest again, voice raw. “I’m out here fighting your mess, your bitch pulling guns, and I’m the one that gotta carry it. You got me looking crazy in front of everybody. I’m tired! I can’t keep bleeding behind your shit!”
Christian stood frozen. The weight of her words hit harder than any swing she threw at Chanta.
Noir pointed at him, tears streaking her cheeks. “You say you love me, but you the reason I could’ve just died tonight. Allthis, all this blood on me, it’s yours! You think I can live like this forever? You breaking me, Christian. You killing me before anybody else even get the chance.”
Her voice cracked, but it wasn’t weakness—it was rage tearing her open for everyone to see.
“If you didn’t know before now.. I promise you on my mama’s life, I am done.” Noir gave one last look at Chanta, shaking her head before licking her wounds back to Knycole’s car.
Christian didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. Instead, he cut his eyes at Chanta highly disappointed. That and she’d lost her damn mind.
Knycole looked at everyone. Cash, Christian, Chanta, Hov, then to Rock who Shakeisha was standing close to like she was concerned. Tilting her head, so many thoughts ran through her mind but she shook them off when Noir called her name, voice cracking.
“Hit my line when you get in… not a second later,” Hov told her, making butterflies flutter in her stomach. “Aye, kid?”
“Huh?”
“I love you.”
