Page 69 of Darling Nikki

“Sure thing, he tells me, snapping the MacBook closed.

“We’ll meet in the morning to go over everything.” I’m unbothered. The wording on the document is shaky at best, the state seal barely visible. It’s laughable the lengths this woman is going to for either relevance or revenge. I’m still not certain what her motives are. Something tells me that me being a Shelby is not the only thing that has her acting in such self-destructive ways. There was an aura of sadness around her that had nothing to do with her alienation from her family. I’m sure the Loves are already divided on the fact she came for a prominent Shelby’s throat, especially after my father almost had Mimi fired from her position at the hospital and used his workers to burn down Krie’s restaurant, the Camillia, and caused problems with the Creative Chaos plant, using my half sister as a pawn in the process—the latter of which prompted Krie’s husband to see to his timely demise. So the Loves would hardly be upset by Joi using her cousin to hurt me, especially if it meant denying me something I desired above all others. Hurting her cousin was a necessary evil for Joi, which is anathema to Nikki. She would never be so callous. There was no way I could continue to blame her for Joi’s actions.

My resolve is firm as I leave headquarters. It remains strong as I traverse the roadways leading to the Kandie Shoppe.

The crowd outside the establishment gives me pause. There are at least a dozen people craning their necks like they are trying to get a better look of what’s going on. I park my car across the street.

My height affords me an advantage in this as it does in most things. As I approach I get a clear view, which spurs me to shove my way through the people assembled. One or two people try to buck up until they see me, and more notably my face, and pipe the fuck down.

“It’s Mathias Shelby,” someone says into the crowd. A collective “whoa” resounds, and I make my way to the edge of the throng facing the store.

What I see has my mouth falling open. Kandie is drubbing Joi on the floor of the bakery. Nikki is on the side, trying to pull her sister off her cousin. “Stop, Kandie. You’re going to end up in jail again.” Nikki’s yelling at her sister, trying to reason with her.

“Uh-uh, I’m sick of this trifling-ass hoe.” Kandie’s voice rings out with the hardest of Alabama twangs. Not the soft modulated tones of the new South. No, it’s a pure, raw cadence that gets to the grit and gift of the South. It denotes the hard work and perseverance of a people who work all their lives, good food, abundant curves, and pride. Pride in ourselves and our people. Kandie is our gifted self-taught local baker and lives her life unapologetically. Even the snooty Shelby Country Club orders her cakes and pastries, and though Krie has a renowned party chef, it’s still Kandie everyone requests for events.

At the moment she is none of those things—she is an avenging angel, snatching the hell out of the woman who hurt my wife. It takes me a full minute of Kandie beating Joi’s ass before I step in. I don’t miss Nikki’s look of consternation when I take a few moments too long to separate the women.

“Bitch!” Kandie lunges.

“Drunk bitch.” Joi swipes her bloody mouth. I can see the flesh beneath her left eye is already swelling.

“You came over here acting like a friend, a cousin, then used what I gave you to hurt my baby sister. You so dirty.” Kandie shakes her head, fire in her eyes. For a split erroneous second, I think she’s talking about breaking the story about me kissing Nikki—that is, until I glance at my little lying-ass wife and see the truth.

“What are you saying?” My voice sounds hollow.

“This low-down dirty hoe came over here pretending like she real family, got me drunk, then had me show her Nikki’s birth certificate.”

“Bahaha!” Joi’s brash laugh greets Ulysses just as he enters. “When aren’t you drunk, bitch?”

Kandie snatches from me before I can stop her from cold cocking Joi, who must be stronger than she seems because after stumbling a few steps back, she jumps at Kandie, tumbling both to the ground.

It takes a good two minutes to get them separated again. Kandie’s beautiful face is a mask of rage, and Joi’s equally striking face is the same. But only Kandie’s shows real hurt; Joi’s expression is that of steely resolve.

“Both of you are under arrest,” Ulysses informs them both, taking out zip ties.

“Dirty-ass cop,” Kandie says, louder than anyone else would dare to a man I don’t even fuck with that often.

My cousin looks at her with solemn eyes that give not an iota of his thoughts away. “We can’t all love jail like you do.”

“Ow,” she gasps. “At least give my sister the key to my shop.”

Ulysses goes over to the register and types in a code he shouldn’t know before taking the keys out.

“Here.” He hands them over to Nikki. “The bakery’s closed tomorrow. She’ll be in my custody till the day after,” he says cryptically.

“Give me a hug, baby sis,” Kandie says with sad eyes on Nikki.

All I can make out is “I’m sorry,” then more muffled words before they break away.

Ulysses leads the arrested women out, and Nikki and I are both silent. “Where is she keeping you birth certificate?” I ask, hearing the deadness in my voice. If the way she flinches is any indication, then I know nothing about me in this moment invites comfort.

“Upstairs in her apartment,” she says.

“Go get it,” I bite out.

She’s already doing my bidding before I finish my sentence.

Minutes later she returns with an envelope heavily marked with violet circles.

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