Page 99 of Tangled Hearts
“Mook, don’t tell too much of mama’s business. You know we don’t even do all that,” Binky fussed with her lips twisted.
“Noir ain’t nobody,” Mook justified.
Noir glanced between them. They were still bad as hell. She wanted to laugh, but she wasn’t about to play with nobody’s kids.
Cash stepped out from the back in a fresh white tee and ball shorts with his chain shining around his neck.
“Um, I thought you was getting ready?” Noir frowned. She already knew they were going to be running late for their dinner reservation.
“My mama called and said the girls was coming up to get some money,” he spoke casually.
“And is,” Binky agreed, holding her hand out.
Cash smacked her palm instead. “Let me see them grades first.”
Binky rolled her eyes but started pulling her phone out. “Boy, you sound like Mama. Always tryna check something.”
“That’s what I’m supposed to do,” Cash countered.
Noir watched the whole thing from the couch just soaking in how naturally he handled them. It was second nature. She remembered when he was younger, hustling just to keep food in the fridge and to help his mama with a light bill. Back then he didn’t have much, but he made sure they had something.
Now he sat in an expensive condo, shining in diamonds and designer, his career climbing every month. But that wasn’t what impressed her. She had been with Christian too long to be starstruck by money. What caught her was how, even with everything in his hands now, he still moved like the man whoraised his sisters before he was even grown. Provider, protector, the one they looked at with trust written all over their faces.
When Binky finally pulled up her grades, she shoved the phone in his face. “See? All A’s and one B,Carlton.”
Noir cackled at his government name. Of course she knew it but they’d called him Cash long before the fame, she often forgot.
Cash nodded, pulling out a folded stack of twenties from his pocket. He slapped it in her hand. “Keep it like that.”
Mook whined immediately, “where mine at?”
“You show me your grades too,” Cash said, and she groaned loud enough to make Noir laugh under her breath.
“Always on some daddy type shit,” Mook muttered, stomping to her bag.
Noir leaned back, eyes still on Cash as he dealt with them without raising his voice once. He wasn’t just shining; he was showing up, the same way he always had. And in the look his sisters gave him… half-annoyed, half-admiration—Noir could see what he was to them. Their hero. Their anchor.
Her phone buzzed again on the table. Her chest constricted, but she didn’t move to pick it up. She just sat there, caught between the man blowing her up from the outside and the man across the room proving his worth without even trying.
The club was shoulder-to-shoulder. Heat rising off bodies, still the vibes were there. Noir and Cash had gone to dinner where they fine dined and laughed until their bellies hurt. On the way to the show, they pre-gamed with shots and a blunt in rotation. Now, Noir was excited to see Cash perform.
When the beat dropped, the crowd erupted, rapping every word like it was scripture.
“Westside, Jade City, that’s the block that made me…”
The whole club screamed it back.
Noir screamed too, phone in hand, catching the moment on her vlog. She had the camera angled so her followers could see the sea of people vibing with him, the bottles in the air, and the raw energy of Black boy joy and survival mixing into something bigger than the music.
Cash was locked in. His chains swung every time he moved. His shirt stuck to him from the heat but his delivery was sharper than she’d ever seen. When he name-dropped Hov and Rock, the crowd lost it, voices rising like they knew exactly what he meant—who he was talking about. Noir felt goosebumps spread across her arms, not just from the sound but from the way he owned the stage.
She mouthed every line, word for word, body swaying. “Seen Hov on the corner with a mind like flame. Smartest nigga in the set, but the pain still came. He a book in the flesh, heart heavy with scars. Still taught the block love like he read it in the stars.”
She had all the bravado because she knew the men he talked about. Had the privilege of being around for their come up and their downfall.
Cash held the mic to his lips, the rasp making her legs quake. “Rock held the weight, did time for the code. Lost years to the cell but came back still bold. I name-drop my brothers ‘cause respect run deep. We done bled for this pavement, now the city know we keep…”
He pushed the mic towards the crowd. They rapped the chorus in unison.
