by Tya Marie
Contents
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Synopsis
1. Kelsey
2. Quill
3. Drea
4. Kelsey
5. Briana
6. Quill
7. Kelsey
8. Briana
9. Quill
10. Kelsey
11. Briana
12. Quill
13. Kelsey
14. Quill
15. Drea
16. Briana
17. Quill
About the Author
Also By Tya Marie
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Published by Royalty Publishing House
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Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the author or publisher. This is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 16+ only.
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Synopsis
“You can bury it in the soil of a broken heart. Hide it behind a smile. Ignore it in the experience of life. But make no mistake: True love never dies.”
Kelsey Mackenzie has spent the last five years of her life trying to rebuild her life in a new place, yet one phone call changes the direction of her life. Quill’s hospitalization does more than bring her back to New York; the familial facades she was surrounded by for the week of her birthday come crashing done one after another, disrupting Kelsey's imagined bliss. However, one piece of news effecting the first man she's ever loved—her father, the infamous Urban Mackenzie—is exposed to the world, and Kelsey has to step in to protect him in the only way she knows how. Every move of Urban's that she's questioned has become her blueprint, manifesting a destiny she never imagined for herself. Shedding old friends and supposed loves is easy, but no matter the circumstances, her heart is drawn to Quill. After fighting temptation, Kelsey considers giving in to her desires for Quill, but the game wants to claim him at all costs.
With his life hanging between two dangerous underworlds, Quill navigates each one with kid gloves. The demanding Amos Winthrop wants to own Brooklyn the way he does his native North Carolina, and the cool-headed Eugenio Veracruz makes nursery rhymed threats to ensure that his territory is ran well by the young drug lord. Tainted loyalty on both ends forces Quill to reevaluate his exit plan, and when he discovers the ultimate betrayal made by someone he once trusted with his life, the only choice he’s left with is to sever ties with everyone. Literally. When an unexpected ally gives Quill the literal keys to his freedom, he spirals down another rabbit hole, except this time he isn't alone. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, Quill plays for keeps this time around, with the winning hand being the piece of Brooklyn he's always dreamed of owning, and the losing hand means having his entire life snatched from him, including Kelsey.
In this second installment of the Adored By a Brooklyn Drug Lord series, the enemies of Kelsey and Quill are closer than they appear, each working with their own set of motives that will ultimately push the pair apart. However, it is their love for one another that challenges the game Kelsey stands to inherit and Quill attempts to secure a place in, creating a battle for Brooklyn like no other.
1
Kelsey
The call came in at half past three, vibrating my pillow so violently that my semi-decent slumber turned into an earthquake, jarring me awake. I sat up shaking, sweat dripping down my back, disoriented, blinking to make the blurry room take shape. The assault of vibrations jolted me out of my stupor. I snatched the phone up from underneath my pillow, squinting at the bright screen. Unknown number. My first thought was that it was Morris, calling to apologize for the way he behaved yesterday. The next person to come to mind was Samira, and how after mulling over her actions from earlier, she decided to call me after enduring her own sleepless night. I picked up, and at the sound of the hospital intercoms in the background, I knew it was neither one.
“Good morning, may I speak to a Miss Kelsey Mackenzie,” a polite voice said.
I rubbed my eyes. “This is she. May I ask who's calling?”
“This is Barbara Johnson from Methodist Hospital. I am calling to alert you that William Evans has been admitted into the hospital. You're listed as his emergency contact…”
“I am?” I yelped, slapping a hand over my mouth. “I mean…what’s going on? Is he going to be okay?”
“Miss Mackenzie, William was the victim of a crime. His injuries are life threatening, and we need his medical proxy here to make any important decisions.”
“I-I-I’m on my way,” I said, untangling myself from my sheets and slipping out of bed. “What's the address?”
Daddy was walking through the door as I exited my bedroom, fully dressed with a duffle bag of clothes and my purse in hand. He jumped at being caught sneaking back in, and if not for the pressing matters back in Brooklyn, I would ask him what he was doing out so late that had him returning with such a guilty look on his face.
“Where are you going at this time of night?” he asked, shrugging back into his coat. “I hope not to see no boys or nothing like that…”
I hurried over to my key rack, grabbing the ones that went to my car, a white Audi A3 that spent more time in the parking garage than out in the sun where it belonged. “Actually, I am on my way to see a boy. Quill. He's in the hospital.”
“What does that have to do with you?” Daddy questioned, positioning himself in front of the door.
Was he really going to do this right now? “I was listed as his emergency contact and medical proxy. Why, I don’t know, but I need to be there in order to make any important decisions.”
“I’ll get in contact with his family. You get back in bed; I'm not letting you drive to New York in the middle of the night. You're half asleep, your shirt is on inside out, and I don’t want you tangled up in whatever that boy has gotten himself into.”
“Even if you do get in contact with his family, I'm still in charge of making decisions for him! If something happens to hi
m because I'm stuck in DC, I’ll never forgive myself!”
Daddy's expression went from upset to confused. “Why the hell would his death be on your hands?”
“Because he saved my life!” I exhaled, my shoulders sagging as I felt the confession leave my lips. “Again. He saved my life again, and if I don’t show up when he needs me, what does that say about the type of person I am?”
I could tell that my father had additional questions, but he kept them to himself, instead calling the air strip to have them fire up the jet. He wasn’t happy by any means, remaining silent the entire ride to the air strip except to speak with Normani, who wasn’t expecting him home for a few more days. The love and compassion he had for her were nonexistent, prompting me to ask him if there was something going on between them I wasn’t made aware of.
“Normani and I are fine,” he said in a tone that said they weren’t, tabling the conversation before it had a chance to form. “What did you mean by Quill saved your life again?”
If I wanted my father to be honest with me in regard to his marriage, I knew I had to meet him halfway. I told him the truth, that Quill saved me from being raped in a club bathroom, and set up Samira and me in a hotel room for the night. His jaw got to working like it did whenever he was angry. I expected for him to yell at me, calling me out on my irresponsibility. Instead, he turned to me, his eyes brimming with hurt.
“Have I been that bad of a parent to you that you couldn’t even be real with me, Kelsey?” he asked as he pulled up to the hangar.
Shame heated my cheeks; I would have preferred him screaming to the tone of his voice. “I didn’t want you to be mad at me. Like you are right now.”
“I'm not hurt; I'm disappointed,” he replied, climbing out of the car without another word.
Grabbing my purse, I followed him onto the jet, taking the seat behind him rather than across from him. We taxied fifteen minutes later, giving me a reason to sink into my seat and close my eyes before we touched down in New York, where I would have to be the responsible adult I had been begging to be since I was sixteen. I sent up a silent prayer for Quill, that he would be restored because while we hadn’t been on the best terms since we were kids, I couldn’t imagine a world without him.
__________
Hearing the news of Quill's assault was a blow to the gut, but having to hear his mother cry at the news was a blow to my chest. Even Daddy, who neither liked nor approved of Quill, couldn’t mask the hurt he felt at Aletta’s cries through his speaker phone. She promised to be on the first bus leaving North Carolina. Daddy squashed that, telling her to pack a bag for herself and the kids, and that tickets would be waiting for them at the airport. Quill’s best friend, Eric, was the second call we made. He promised to be there within the hour. My heart slammed into my chest the closer we grew to Quill’s room. Eric was there, sitting with his head in his hands, shaking it from side-to-side.
“I knew I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself,” he said through his hands. “How could I have been so fucking stupid?”
“Go where?” Daddy prompted, scaring Eric out of the conversation he was having more with himself than Quill, who was lying in a hospital bed, unmoving.
Eric’s head snapped to the door, his eyes growing wide at the sight of us. I walked over to him, holding my arms out. He slipped into them, kissing me on the cheek and thanking me for calling him. According to Eric, Quill went on a business trip with an associate earlier in the day, and when he hadn’t heard back from either one, he started asking around. He blew up Quill's phone until it started going to voicemail. Daddy posted up next to the entrance, listening without saying a word. I knew he was plotting, comprising a list of people he could ask about any recent meetings going on in Brooklyn. Eric sat back down, staring at Quill, who was hooked up to a breathing machine and several IVs giving him everything from pain medicine to nutrients. I stood there, blinking back tears as I recalled our last conversation, one of the few where it almost felt like we were back to our old selves.
“Quill,” I said, taking one of his hands into mine. “Don’t worry, were going to get through this—”
“QUILL!!!!”
A mass of Malaysian kinky curly wearing a fur coat came charging into the hospital room, screaming along the way. The woman wearing both of them threw herself onto Quill's chest, crying and blubbering prayers over him. I backed up, my eyes finding Eric for confirmation on who this woman was. He shook his head, face palming himself as if to say he didn’t mean for me to find out like this. I wanted to ask him who she was, but was cut off by her stopping mid conniption to look at me through her hair.
“Who are you?” she said, standing upright, revealing a protruding stomach. “I'm Drea, the mother of Quill’s child and his fiancée. Are you a friend of his?”
“Yeah,” I said after a minute. “I-I-I’m a friend of Quill's. My father and I gave Eric a ride to the hospital. We’re going to leave now…”
Drea waved away my exit. “No! Please stay with me. Quill and my brother came into the hospital at the same time. Deon's down in the ICU and they don’t think he's going to make it. I need all the prayers I can get right now.”
“I don’t want to impose—”
“Kelsey, why don’t we stay a little in case something happens?” Daddy said from the doorway, reminding me that I was Quill's proxy.
“Why don’t I get us some drinks?” I suggested, motioning to the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes…”
“I’ll take a caramel macchiato with two shots of espresso, a pump of fudge, two pumps of extra caramel, and cookie crumbles,” Drea said, taking Eric’s now vacant seat and scooting it to the bed. She rested her head on his arms, wiping away her invisible tears. “And a lemon cake warmed up.”
Eric followed me, leaving Daddy with Drea. I am not going to cry, I am not going to cry, I repeated to myself the farther we grew away from Quill’s hospital room. I am not going to cry. Eric spoke up in the privacy of the elevator. First came the apologies, all of which I told him he could keep because I expected no less of him. As soon as Aletta showed up, I was out, and back on the first flight to DC.
“He was trying to get back with me,” I cut Eric off, motioning with my hand at the absurdity of the situation. “He made me believe that he changed, that we had a chance to…you know what? I'm not even going there with you. All I want to do is go the fuck home and pretend that I didn’t race here, spending a lot of my father’s money to make sure Quill was good—”
“If I'm not mistaken, he did the same for you,” Eric countered with a warning glare in his eyes. “You mean to tell me you’ve never gotten caught up in a situation that you couldn’t control? Quill is a good man, and while his situation with Drea looks one way, trust me when I say it ain't even like that.”
I crossed my arms. “Then how is it?”
“Complicated.”
“No shit.”
The elevator doors sprang open at the lobby. We continued our trek to the cafeteria in silence. While Eric went to grab Drea's complicated drink order, I went to grab the rest of the refreshments, starting with some bottles of Pepsi for myself and a ginger ale for Daddy. We had more than enough coffee on the plane; I noticed Daddy’s hands shaking from the influx of caffeine and knew he didn’t need any more. My phone vibrated in my jeans pocket and this time I really had no clue who was calling me. Shifting the bottles of soda in my arms along with snack cakes and chips, I dug in my pocket, mentally cussing myself for not wearing my Apple Watch.
“Hello?” I said, cradling the phone on my shoulder as I dumped my haul onto the counter, digging in my purse for cash.
Samira huffed. “You know I haven’t been able to sleep a wink since our conversation at brunch? Kelsey—”
“Is that why you picked”—I glanced at the time on a clock behind the cash register—“five in the morning to speak to me? To keep your precious reputation intact? You hurt my fucking feelings, Sam.”
“I know—”
> “No, I don’t think you do know.” I felt my throat tightening. I am not going to cry. “You’ve made several complaints about how I never open up to you, that I'm this closed book yet the one time I'm ready to show you another side of me, you judge.”
I heard a shift in Samira’s background. She must’ve been getting ready for work. “What part of you has anything to do with criminals like Peace?”
“Doesn’t matter now.”
“Yes,” Samira shot back, “it has a lot to do with how I had to find out what happened to you. Why you don’t like being at home. And that hurt my fucking feelings knowing you chose a stranger to tell such sensitive information. Why him, Kelsey—”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Your change,” the cashier said, handing me my money with one hand and extending a box of tissues with the other.
I thanked the cashier, taking the change with one hand, and tissues with the other, dropping them into my bag. Eric was standing by the entrance holding a drink in either hand, his eyes trained on me as I started toward the elevators. I had another minute before he caught up to me with those long strides of his.
“Where are you?” Samira questioned.
“Brooklyn,” I said, taking my phone off my shoulder, lowering the volume as Eric's cologne permeated my nostrils. “Sam, I can't do this right now. I'm in the middle of an emergency. I’ll get back together with you later on.”
