Page 76 of Crown: Phase 4

Danger looked back down at Nyla, his expression softening. He carefully adjusted her against his chest, supporting her head as he had seen Crown and Nivéa do on occasion.

“You got your uncle, D. Ain’t nobody gon’ mess with you. You hear me?”

Nyla stared up at him, blinking slowly before breaking out into a half smile.

“Ah, shit. Peep her.” Danger was so proud as he tapped Crown’s shoulder. “Me and her already locked in.”

“Whatever, nigga.” Jealous, Crown hopped off the couch and went to grab his bottled water from the fridge. But he couldn’t front…part of him was happy about his little brother bonding with his baby.

Meanwhile, inside the theater room, Nivéa and Caresha caught up while watching a movie. Nivéa had already had the flat iron ready before they got there, and now she was straightening Caresha’s hair. Normally, Caresha did their heads, but with her down bad right now, Nivéa had to take over and get her girl right.

She wanted to make sure Caresha was okay mentally after everything that had happened. She knew looking good couldn’t heal the physical trauma she’d been through, but if she could do something as simple as getting her hair right, maybe Caresha would feel a little better when she looked in the mirror. Sometimes, a girl just needed to feel like herself again. And Nivéa was going to do whatever she could to help her get there.

“So, you and D good now?”

Caresha shrugged. “Something like that.”

Nivéa nodded, understanding that. “You scared?”

“Yeah, a little. But I do care about him, so…”

“I feel you. Definitely understand.” Nivéa sighed. “Wish I could give you good, wholesome advice, but girl, I done fucked around and married the Crown Knight. Who am I to preach and judge?”

They snickered as Nivéa went over a section of her hair.

“What Mama talking about now? She knows y’all back rocking?” She asked when she noticed Caresha had paused and picked up her phone, texting Carla.

“Baby, please. Carla ain’t about to have me committed to the psych ward. I ain’t told her nothing. Literally sneaking and hiding with this nigga like I’m sixteen again. Every night she falls asleep on the couch, and I’m bringing him through the window. She won’t stay away. Dee refuses to stay away. Lawd.”

Nivéa laughed so hard her tummy started hurting. “Not you sneaking him through the window.”

“Yes, girl. It’s crazy. Sneaking him in my own shit. Tonight, I had to tell her I just need some time alone. I think I hurt her feelings, but she says she understands. I don’t know. I feel bad.”

“Well, I think you’re just trying to figure everything out and truly do need some space. Just make sure you make it up to her. Maybe take her out to eat and to see a movie when you’re healed. She almost lost you. I feel her pain.”

“Yeah…you right.” Caresha nodded.

“So why were you and D fighting? You ready to tell me?”

“Nope.”

“Bitch, don’t play with me.”

Caresha laughed, then sighed heavily as she stared at the massive screen ahead.

“I’m listening. No judgment zone. Come on. Spit it out.” Nivéa pushed.

“I got a job offer in North Carolina. I told him about it, and he felt some kind of way about me leaving. And instead of telling me that, he distanced himself and became an asshole.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Nivéa paused, setting the flat iron down and stepping in front of her best friend. “You got a job offer where?”

Caresha stared at her, sympathetically. She already knew this was about to hit Nivéa hard. Another perfect day had just gone sour in their world, and Caresha couldn’t even blame her for reacting that way. She would’ve initially felt the same. They had never been apart, not really. For as long as they could remember, they’d always had each other close enough to call, pull up on, or meet for whatever they needed.

And now, North Carolina meant distance, starting over, and possibly changing the friendship they’d always known.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

The back door of Maino’s house gave way with a quiet click. Dressed in his vest and jeans, Smoky stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. The house was dark, still, and quiet as he made his way through the kitchen. He had barely taken two steps into the hallway when a 5’11 figure moved from the shadows, pressing a gun against his head. Smoky paused in his tracks, though he knew exactly who it was. Besides this being the nigga’s home, he could recognize that body from anywhere.