“No. Don’t leave. Tell me how you really feel.” She spun on her bar stool and propped her arms on the counter. “Wait, let me do it for you, please.” She steepled her hands together like she was praying. “I’m selfish, spoiled, and entitled. I only think about myself, and I run when things get hard or don’t go my way, also the definition of being spoiled.”
“Sounds like you’re good at the self-analyzation, too,” Gem quipped.
“Took years to master, baby sister,” Giselle conveyed. “I’m just as stubborn as you, by the way. It’s a Knox trait, so don’t think I’m just going away this time. Be safe, though.” Giselle swung on her stool to face the bar. “If anything happens to my sister, you’re going to answer for it, Solo.”
“Damn, Giselle. So sweet but so damn savage.” Solo seemed appalled.
“Goodnight.” Giselle waved to them as they padded toward the front entrance together.
“I don’t think you have to worry about her with him.” Heavy stepped up beside her. “Solo is solid.”
“Hmm, I guess I can take your word for it.” She sipped from her shot glass, and he rested a hand against the counter.
“You know what your sister made me realize?” Giselle rested her cheek against her hand propped on the counter. “We have two kids together and don’t know a whole lot about each other.”
“I think we know what’s important. Anything else we can figure out along the way.”
“How do you do that?” she asked, shaking her head then pausing. “You make everything seem so simple.”
“People tend to complicate things,” Heavy recited, taking her shot glass from her and tossing it back.
“Do you ever think about that night?” she asked, surprising him.
Heavy swallowed his drink and faced her. Her low eyes were sexy, drinking him in slowly and waiting for him to respond.
“I have,” she confessed. “Just some more selfish shit. Wondering how I let myself be stupid and caught up in Alonzo and the illusion he provided. Safety. Financial security. Clout. I talked myself into thinking this was the best thing for me and for Harlee and Heir. The whole time, the same thing I sought in him, he was ready to take from me. And I robbed them of you in the process.”
“I think you’ve had enough to drink, princess. Let’s get you home.” Heavy eased between her legs and dropped a hand against her cheek. Stroking his thumb across her plush mouth, he searched her warm brown eyes, which were fixed on him.
“Yes, please do,” Maisie encouraged, coming down the stairs from the office with Crew behind her. “Lou left with Gem and Solo, and Oz slipped out of here when he got word that one of his baby mamas slid into town on his ass. I’m letting Anna shut things down tonight.” Maisie slipped into her jacket, and Crew walked with her, arms locked around her, falling in stride with her steps.
“Fine.” Giselle pouted, allowing Heavy to help her off the stool.
“Goodnight, G!” Crew called after them as Heavy escorted her through the back where he’d parked his car.
Giselle settled in his soft leather seats and faced him when he got inside.
“I’m starving. Can we please stop at Dash Diner and get burgers?” she requested.
“Yeah, aight.” Heavy backed out of his parking spot and drove twenty minutes to the local spot.
It was an old-school drive-in spot, so they came out to take their order, and Heavy and Giselle waited in the car to be served. By that time, she’d kicked off her shoes and gotten comfortable in his passenger seat. The aroma of the burgers and fries along with the chatter from Sally and her staff brought back memories for Giselle. It was a family-owned business. The name Dash came from Sally’s son’s father, who passed away in a bad car accident decades ago. Everyone knew Dash, though. He was a local celebrity, known for his driving skills. He could beat anybody in a street race. The man was a legend around these parts.
“What did Henna mean about your mother?” she asked, breaking the silence between them that had been filled by ’80s R&B softly playing on the Sirius XM station. “What grudge could you possibly hold against her?”
“She left us,” Heavy answered, tapping the steering wheel and looking out his window.
“Oh.” Giselle felt like shit.
“She didn’t have a lot of control over it. Or she was too selfish to figure it out. According to my pops, she suffered from some bipolar shit, add that to the fact that she couldn’t shake smoking crack, it was a recipe for disaster.”
“Is she still alive?” Giselle pried.
“Technically.” Heavy ran his hand down his face and took a breath. “I don’t see her or talk to her, but… she’s around. Prettysure Henna tries to keep up with her, but she’s grown and still out here fighting that monkey on her back. Ain’t much any of us can do for her, so I stopped trying.”
“I’m sorry.”
His attention spun in her direction. He’d heard her melancholy tone, so he knew she meant it. She had no idea how her leaving had triggered some shit he thought he was past.
