I stopped in my tracks, and then Cole stopped, turning around to face me.
“To be completely real with you since you saying you want to be my wife, Proc killed my mama, Anne, who adopted me when I was eleven years old. He took out her and my old foster siblings. That's the truth.”
He saw the confusion in my eyes and decided to explain even further.
“So that nigga Josiah, who Proctor just got off for murdering, is one of my foster brothers. I didn’t tell you that shit because it didn’t matter much at the time, but now that he’s touched one of the only ladies I care about, it’s up from here. Is that a problem with you?”
“No, no, of course not. I understand Cole.” I lied with a straight face.
“Now let’s get in this fucking car and go home. I’m tired.”
He walked off before me because I was stuck in place after the revelation he just gave me. Now that I know Cole wanted Hawk dead, I know it was up to me not to let that happen. Cyn can die at any moment, but Hawk can’t. I don’t care what Cole thought he did.
Truth is, if Hawk dies, my hope for real happiness dies with him because even after all this time, I still love him, and I’m supposed to be Mrs. Hawk Proctor.
Chapter 17
Proctor
One week later.
For the first time in my life, I had to actually search for the best flower shops in the city. Not just a corner spot that had the dusty roses sitting in water for a week, but somewhere with some premium shit.
I pulled up to one of those high-end flower shops, where fresh flowers lined the walls, sitting pretty in tall vases. The girl behind the counter smiled like she already knew I was about to spend a bag in here when she saw me.
“I’m here to get a couple of bouquets for my ladies. One big bouquet and one for a little girl.”
“Of course, what colors and flowers are you looking for?”
“Just something nice. They're special to me, so hook that shit up as much as you can. I don’t care what the cost is.”
I took my card out and slid it across the counter.
She nodded and disappeared into the back for a good minute while I wandered around the store seeing different types of flowers and shit that I didn’t even know existed. After a while, she came out carrying a bouquet so big it looked like she wascarrying a whole fuckin garden wrapped in black paper with gold trim.
She set that one on the counter and disappeared into the back once again, before coming out with a smaller, all-pink version of the flowers she’d just brought out.
“Okay, sir, and that’ll be seven hundred dollars,”
I didn’t flinch. Just tapped my card and watched the total clear.
“Thank you, ma’am, I appreciate it.”
I took both bouquets from the counter, feeling stupid and proud at the same time. I never thought I’d be the type of nigga to drop a half a stack on flowers, but here I was doing the shit.
Lately, I've been leaving the club around eight o’clock, once I've made sure everything is set for the night, and going home to my lady and our daughter because spending time away from them just didn’t feel right. I wasn’t slacking on my job by a long shot, and I felt comfortable knowing that I had set up a solid system that could run without me when needed.
Ari and the baby hadn’t gone back to the east coast since they came a couple of weeks ago. To be real, I wouldn’t let their asses leave. Not that I’d force her to do anything she didn’t want to do, but I liked having her around. I liked coming home to a woman like Ari who cooked and cleaned without me having to ask.
As I came down the strip, heading toward my penthouse, a message popped up on my screen that instantly got my attention.
It’s Nina. I need to talk to you about Hawk.
Just because she put my son’s name in the message, I felt the need to contact her immediately. Because I wasn’t much ofa texter, I hit call on her number to go ahead and cut this small talk shit out if it’s really about my son.
The phone rang a few times before she finally answered.
“What’s up?” What do you need to talk about?”
