“It’s not just about him, and you wouldn’t understand,” I grumbled.
“Then make me understand, Ivana. I am your sister. I mourned you for seven years. I deserve answers. You know all of my skeletons, so why can’t you tell me yours? There is nothing that you can say that will make me judge you. You know I’ve been through the mud.”
“Arrow had a proposition for me. I could live if I did him a favor.”
“And what was that?” Gardenia pressed, resting her elbows on the counter and leaning forward.
“He wanted me to marry his son,” I revealed, and her eyes doubled in size, looking like they were about to pop right out of her sockets.
“Wait, excuse me? Did I hear you right?” she questioned.
“You heard me just fine.”
“And what did you say? Why did he want you to marry him to begin with?”
“Some familial shit,” I responded. “And a way to stick it to Frequency.”
“And you agreed?”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here.”
“Wait, so are you telling me that you are married?” Gardenia questioned with shock. “Well where the hell is this husband?”
“Around,” I said, watching my phone buzz against the granite countertop.
Sure enough, the display showed my husband’s contact info, and my heart lurched. I reached for the device and sighed before I swiped the bar across the screen to answer and put it to my ear.
“Hello.”
“I just landed. Send me the address. I’m coming to you. I need to know every fucking thing that happened to my father.”
“Okay, I will send it now.”
“See you soon, wife,” Mistro gloated through the phone.
I grew taut where I stood. Our relationship had changed over the course of the last seven years.When we first met, I hated him like nobody’s business. He was the enemy, along with Arrow. My tolerance stretched over time for Arrow, but the relationship that Mistro and I stumbled upon was something else. He was the kind of man that got off on wielding his power over women. He ran a brothel for his father in Miami, and soon, I became one of his top bitches.
Over time, I brought in so much money that I was promoted to be something like his right-hand bitch. I kept the girls in line, me and the heroine that was being pumped into them whenever they did resist. The task was draining, but I spent so much time high that I became numb to it. I slept with so many men in the last year that they all seemed to run together—a big blur of events. That’s how it was some days, and I knew and could relate to the girls in the house more than anyone. I was valueless at this point; at least that’s how I felt. Every time some strange man entered me, he took a part of me that I could never get back. Frequency was right about one thing: neither of us were the same anymore.
Chevy
The dating world had changed,and I wasn’t a fan of this shit. Ledge and I were comfortable with each other. Trying to get back out there and get to know another man was like a fucking job and not an easy one. Plus, I had my kids to factor in, so that made it even more difficult. Not a lot of men were interested in a woman with children. For some reason, these fools had the nerve to think that made you either a whore or damaged goods if you were a mother already. There were very few mature enough to accept that a woman with children majority of the time was a damn good woman and probably the best equipped to be with a real man because she had patience and was a nurturer. I wasn’t asking anybody to take care of my kids; I did that just fine, and they still had an active father. After the whole kidnapping ordeal, shit with me and Ledge hit a standstill. I couldn’t forgive him for everything that he put me through, and he understood it. He didn’t fight me on anything, which was surprising and slightly disheartening.
I wasn’t sure how I felt. One minute, being apart seemed to be the best thing, and the next, I was pissed that he wasn’t putting up a fight. He was spending lots of time with the kids, even keeping them on weekends and giving me time alone. I didn’t know what to do with myself half the time. Harbor was out of commission because she had two newborns at home, so I hated to admit I was spending a lot of time either alone or with her and the twins. They were adorable, and I was in love with their little faces too, so time wasn’t exactly wasted. A lot of the time, I was wishing I was home, hanging out with Ledge and the kids like Harbor and Free seemed to be. He was changing his ways for Harbor, and it was actually pretty amazing to see. I had seen this nigga keep a bunch of airheads around with perfect bodies and faces but not one sustainable quality beyond that.
“Alright, Chevelle, get it together. This is just a man, like any other.” I was standing in the full-length mirror inside mybedroom, checking out my dress while smoothing some of my hair away from my face.
Tonight, I was going to a movie with Detective Evans, or Kemper as he had me call him. He was sweet and funny, and although he was a cop, he wasn’t some stiff. He grew up in the hood, in poverty, with just his mother. His father was in and out of his life according to him, but they managed to have some kind of relationship. In the last few weeks, we’d gone on three dates together, and he was surprisingly cool. It was a definite switch from Knowledge’s degenerate ass.
Still, I couldn’t help but think about him all the time. Every time he was on daddy duty, that was a turn-on. I found myself wanting to forgive him and get back to us. The doorbell rang, and my granny called to me from downstairs. I snatched up my little purse and tossed it across my chest since it was a little crossbody bag and rushed to the bedroom door.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, Kemper stood in the hallway with Granny. She was beaming like he was there to take her out. He was a very handsome man, and part of me wondered if I was as attracted to him as I was because in a few ways he did remind me of Ledge. They were both the same size with the same chocolate skin and piercing, slanted eyes that stared through me. He was direct when he spoke, and his smile was definitely one to warm your heart.
“Hey.” I returned his greeting grin, descending in a short, black BCBG dress with Louboutin heels.
My hair hung in deep waves, cascading down my back, and I beat my face like a girl fresh off a magazine cover.
“Damn,” he groaned, biting into his bottom lip sexily, charcoal eyes raking over me.
