She went into her pocket and pulled out the black velvet box. I didn’t relax until I popped the top open to see the three-carat oval shaped diamond ring I’d purchased for Lo. Lee shook her head at my sister as Angel said, “Hurry up. She’s coming.”
I raced over to the marquee letters and dropped down on one knee. Even though my heart was thundering, I could hear her coming long before she bent La Muerte. I held my breath, seeingthe way she titled to the right, but she held her weight perfectly. Like she knew I was waiting for her. She was in control of the bike and told it what to do next. That looked like erasing the distance between us within seconds.
She didn’t even turn the bike off when she skirted to a stop in front of me. She dropped it and ran over to me, completely forgetting about the race, but I was with her. It didn’t matter right now. Only the world melting away as the most beautiful woman allowed me the opportunity to be the happiest man alive.
She closed the distance between us with her hands up to her mouth. “Come here,” I commanded when she stopped walking six feet away. She happily obliged, coming to a halt right in front of me. Her vanilla perfume enveloped me, and the nerves melted away.
“Harlo, I can’t really say I saw this coming. We’ve known each other for a very long time, but you were always just my homeboy’s little sister. Did I think you were beautiful? Always, but I never thought you’d give a cutthroat nigga like me the time of day. I know you’ve been through a lot, and I thank you for trusting someone else with your heart. That took courage. Courage most people never have, but because of that, I want you to know I always have you covered. In prayer. In war. In every storm and joyful day. In every brush stroke. In every breath.”
I could hear her shaky breathing when I popped open the ring box. “Oh my God, it’s beautiful.” She squealed in awe.
I smiled brightly, knowing I’d nailed it right. “Let’s make this shit official, mama. Harlo Eriel Ransom, will you marry me?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She screamed excitedly. She extended her left hand out to me and wiggled her fingers. I chuckled while taking out her ring and sliding it where it belonged.
“For life,” I vowed, glancing up at her. The tears in her eyes mirrored my own. “No one will ever hurt you again. That’s on me and CCB.”
I held out my pinky, to which she interlocked hers, and we did the CCB handshake. At the end, I snatched her to me, lifted her in the air, and allowed my lips to find hers. That kiss sealed the deal for me. Every day of my life, I was looking forward to making up for all the pain Lo suffered at the hands of people who didn’t know how to handle her. Because she was with the master now, and no one spoke to her body or soul like I did, and no one else ever would.
Two years later . . .
Nothing felt better than the wind whipping past my face while I hugged my husband’s body from behind. He whipped through the streets like the expert he was, and I allowed myself to sink deeper into the serenity I felt whenever he was near. Resting my cheek on his back, I let my eyes drift close.
The sound of his bike purring was music to my ears. It was my favorite sound, second to his heartbeat. To this day, we still couldn’t sleep without being wrapped in each other’s arms, and I was looking forward to a lifetime of that.
It felt so good to finally get the love I deserved. Some days, I wanted to square up with myself, thinking about how I almost fumbled one of God’s greatest because I thought I understoodeverything about the kind of men CCB members were. But thank God for being wrong and finally learning the truth, because it saved my life.
I gulped as memories of Emir wanted to surge forward, but I refused to give them access to my present moment. I allowed that man to steal too much time from me. He would never get another second if I had anything to say about it.
I hated to admit it, but the only reason he was crossing my mind was because today was the anniversary of his death. A little over two years later, and like clockwork, the media resurfaced the story. Sometimes it hurt to be scrolling on social media, having a beautiful day until I saw a picture from my past.
Even though I’d sued the Solaire Police Department for releasing my personal photos every now and then, one of them would still surface. Sometimes I hated the way a person’s personal life could become entertainment for others. I was the topic of many discussions, and only the people closest to me held me down when the world got too loud.
Dior slowed his bike down as we reached the Dutch Art Studio. For the first time in a while, I was going to be releasing a new art collection, Black & Blue. If my trauma was going to be talked about, I was determined to lead the story in the direction I wanted it to go. The way Emir treated me was terrible, but it was not my whole story. It was a horrible chapter that closed the day he closed his eyes.
What I felt was worth talking about these days was my new life. The man who would burn the world down if it meant seeing me smile. He truly got a hard-on from loving me.
My family was also worth talking about, from my blood relatives to the ones I chose when I became Quadior’s ol’lady. I was covered in every way and knew I would never have to be isolated again. I didn’t take any member of my family for grantedbecause when I needed saving, they were all there. So, whenever they needed me, I was on the way, no questions asked.
I shook my head when Keem shot by us, walking his bike. Dior pulled into one of the parking spots out front. Laprada pulled up on his left and Mo on his right. Other CCB members already sat near their bikes, waiting for us to arrive. The line of people waiting to get into the gallery had me all giddy inside. I couldn’t believe this was really happening.
There were so many times in my marriage to Emir when my art had to take a back seat to the things he would rather I do with my time. Meanwhile, Dior would never make me choose to spend my time doing anything other than what made me happy. If I chose to lie around our home all day being a lazy housewife he’d allow that too. He loved to spoil me, so I had the best of both worlds.
Dior got off his bike, then helped me do the same. As usual, he took my helmet off for me and took the time to fix my hair. I couldn’t contain my smile as my nerves exploded into something more. Something that settled into my bones, finally allowing them to feel an ache other than pain. Today they ached with joy and disbelief at the way my life had completely changed in such a short amount of time.
Qua took my hand in his, then walked me to the front of the crowd. I waved at the people who couldn’t contain their excitement to see me. I already knew I had a fan base, but one of the good things that came out of marrying Emir was my truth exploded my audience. Everyone wanted to work with me or showcase my art in one way or another. All my dreams were finally coming true.
“I want to thank you all for being here. Today is my first public art gallery and I hope y’all love every piece just as much as I do.”
The doors were officially open for viewing, and Dior wrapping his arms around my waist grounded me in the moment. His lips on my neck had me thinking about the question he’d asked me earlier over breakfast. Before I got the opportunity to answer him, everyone had shown up to the house to ride over to the gallery together.
“I’m ready to stop my birth control,” I whispered so only he could hear me. When I felt his body stiffen, I slipped out of his arms and rushed inside the gallery. It was easy to camouflage my way into the crowd because I knew he was looking for me. He would never let me drop a bomb like that and just go on about my day.
The first familiar face I ran into was my father’s. I opened my arms to hug him. When he let me go, he smiled proudly. “I always knew your talent was unmatched, baby girl, but this is just . . . wow.”
Leaving him speechless had me teary-eyed. If there was one thing I could admit it was that my father always supported me. “Thank you, Daddy. That truly means a lot. You are the one person who’s always been in my corner, and I didn’t always appreciate it.”
He tried to cut me off, but I wouldn’t allow him to. Taking his hand, I walked him over to the piece I wanted him to see. He had no clue he was a part of the collection, but I couldn’t tell my story without talking about the man who raised me.
