The Rhyme of Love (Love in Rhythm & Blues Book 2)

by Love Belvin

  I was zipped up and glancing around at what I had to lug. “Shit,” I grumbled when I grabbed my phone, forgetting I hadn’t charged it.

  I knew I was fucked because when traveling with a group like this, a charger was like a bag of crack in a trap house. Everybody would need a charge. Then the airport… I could forget about getting a full battery until I landed on the other side of the country. That could be bad for when I needed to communicate to Ivie for my pickup.

  There was no time to stress over it, people began piling into the living room to go. So, I grabbed my things to hit the door.

  “Yo, a tricked out Bentayga out there,” Rico called out, stepping back inside.

  “Prolly somebody L.I.T. sent to lock up the place,” Jon explained on a mumble, on his way out the door.

  Steve came out of nowhere and grabbed my largest suitcase without words. He circled around and caught Jemah’s, too, just as she stepped into the living room. And that quickly and mutedly, he was out the front door. Jemah sent me a soft blush before she followed him. I regrouped, rearranging the luggage I was left with. The moment I stepped toward the door, a heavy arm landed on my shoulder. Alarmed, I glanced up. It was Teke masked in sunglasses.

  “That bad?” I asked, uncomfortable from the weight of him.

  “You have no damn idea,” he mumbled. “Just wanna rewind the clock back twenty-five minutes when we were in bed.”

  Before I could correct him, we were in the doorframe, trying to squeeze through.

  “You know…” I tried, “this would work best if you let me go.”

  Teke’s head lowered and a sleek grin formed. “Never…”

  We managed and made it onto the small porch. Midway down the stairs, I froze.

  Apparently, everyone else who had made it out before us did, too. There, parked square in front of the house, was a luxury SUV. Standing outside of it was a familiar burly figure, holding the back door open for another tall, thick frame I’d become conversant with.

  Next to me, Teke steeled, too, his weight no less heavy on me, though. The passenger door opened and Lil Bruh stepped out.

  “Yo, Lady McKinnon, you need me to handle that for you?” With a crooked smile, Lil Bruh tossed his chin somewhere low on my person.

  My eyes followed his line of vision to the carryon suitcase I held in my right hand. My brain was too fuzzy to answer, especially when Ragee’s empty eyes pinned me where I stood. Lil Bruh didn’t wait on an answer. He sauntered over and retrieved the suitcase from me. Steve approached the trunk with my larger one he’d taken.

  Finally, Raj blinked, and his eyes smiled without his mouth. That ironically awakened my need to greet him. With a push of his arms, I left Teke’s hold and ambled over to Raj. His eyes never left me.

  “What are you doing here?” I whispered, not wanting anyone to hear.

  His eyes roved from my head to my mouth twice before his smile extended to his face.

  “You love asking me that, don’t you?” his tone just as gentle. “I’m bi-coastal…international. You ain’t know?”

  I didn’t find it funny. “Why are you here when I’m leaving to go home?” Wherever that was.

  He pulled the duffle from my shoulder. “I came to take you home.” His volume thicker. “I tried calling all morning for you to get ready.”

  My eyes closed then rolled beneath my lids. “My phone’s dead. I didn’t know you were in town.”

  “Been here since last night. Wanted to give you your last hurrah with ya peeps,” he offered too amiably.

  I tried snapping out of my stupor by shaking my head. “I was about to catch a flight. We’re on our way to the airport now. I pai—” that’s when I remembered I never paid Teke for the flight. I didn’t get a chance to hit up an ATM machine.

  I turned to him and saw, just like everyone else, he was watching our exchange raptly.

  I faced Raj again. “I forgot to pay him for my ticket. He ordered it with his for me.”

  His brows dropped, almost as though he was genuinely concerned. “How much was it?”

  “Five-eighty, I think.” My hand going to my forehead. I couldn’t fucking think! I drank a lot last night, woke up in a strange man’s bed, hurried through a shower, and found my estranged husband on the doorstep behaving eerily calm. “Teke, five-eighty. Right?”

  Teke smirked then nodded.

  Sounds of movement in front of me had me turning to face Raj again. He pulled out a wad of cash and counted out several bills before handing it to me.

  “You ain’t flying commercial, Mrs. McKinnon. Not to get here to work and not to get home.” He handed me the money.

  I turned and lifted it for Teke, struggling with Raj’s big presence. The only time I’d seen Ragee, the star, was at his concert last fall. He was larger than life and dripped aristocratic quality. I wasn’t used to this. When we were alone, he was just Raj…Gee-Gee, a moody asshole who could fuck like a god. That’s not what my contemporaries here knew of him. To some, Raj was a legend in the making. A young O.G. in R&B, and an accomplished artist and entrepreneur. I knew what held their gaze and curiosities. I just couldn’t grasp my role in maintaining their expectations now that he was here in the flesh.

  I backed up a few steps, holding the money out to Teke. He began his way over to me, his million-dollar smile in tow.

  Not now, Teke. This is weird enough…

  But the Teke I’d gotten to know never turned off the arrogant swag. I didn’t know how that would bode with Raj.

  “You good, shawtie,” he declined with a smirked. “Take that and buy your next Groupon.” Teke’s hand lifted, and the moment it neared mine, his torso folded toward the ground.

  “You got your feels already, son-son. Don’t fuckin’ touch her again,” Raj growled.

  Teke was mushed so fucking hard, he almost went south. I sucked in a breath and before I could turn around fully to address Ragee, his hand was at my lower back as, simultaneously, someone pulled at my wrist, almost yanking me forward. As my body propelled, I caught Teke’s rebound, catching himself and his face turned red and hard.

  “Yo, Teke!” Someone barked from behind him.

  It was a warning cry as desperate as my heart rate had amplified.

  But Teke didn’t react to it. Instead he steadied himself and growled back. “The fuck you doin’, man?”

  Jemah shrieked a cry as I was thrusted behind Lil Bruh’s frame. I peered around it and saw before Teke could cock his slender arm back, Raj had hit him with two swift jabs, knocking his sunglasses clear from his face. What began in what felt like slow motion, ended on fast forward. The back of Teke’s head went south while his chin flew into the air. Blood squirted from somewhere and spit flung laterally.

  “Aye, man!” Irv jumped toward Raj.

  “Ain’t nothin’, mufucka.” Danny G approached, ran up on Irv, who recoiled with his hands in the air blocking his face.

  He knelt to go to Teke, who was laid out on the ground in an awkward position. Jemah screamed in horror, and Steve ran toward Teke. Jon turned away, holding his head, and shouting something about warning Teke.

  “Let’s go,” I heard calmest from this melee.

  It was Raj, taking me by the hand. I couldn’t turn away from them. Jemah was now being comforted by Rico as she, too, grabbed her afro and cried.

  Before I knew it, I was shuffled into a luxury SUV, smelling of new leather and doors were closing all around. I faced forward, eyes peering over the blank television screen in the headrest in front of me. We pulled off in silence and not too long after, music began at a high volume, drowning out the echoing screams of Jemah and Jon in my head. I don’t know how long we drove, my mind ran with a playback of what had just happened.

  “Time to get out,” was murmured next to me.

  I glanced to my right and saw Raj, standing there in dark sweats rolled to his bundled calf muscles. A familiar long aircraft with G550 printed large on its wing came into view behind him. When had we stopped? As I st
ood from the SUV, I saw his pecs push through the heather gray, short sleeved cotton t-shirt with Ase Garb printed across. He held his hand out for mine. I couldn’t even look him in the face, infuriated by his mere presence. He took the hint and led the way to the steps of the jet. I followed on his heels not giving eyes when I returned greetings from the air staff.

  Once inside, Raj took a seat and extended his long legs to place his feet in the chair facing him, stretching back as though he was legitimately exhausted. I plopped down in the one across the aisle from him with my arms crossed, but eyes surreptitiously following him. His triceps bunched as he extended his arms back in the air. Then he brought his hands in front of him and I didn’t miss when he examined the swelling of his knuckles. Raj grumbled something then shifted back in his seat and closed his eyes.

  Lil Bruh boarded with Danny G behind him.

  “I think you need this.” Danny handed me my purse and dead cell phone I must have dropped during the fracas.

  I almost thanked him until I remembered he was complicit in what was clearly an ambush on Teke. Me, too! Almost immediately, we prepared for takeoff, buckling into our seats. When in the air, I was offered a beverage and/or refreshments, to which I declined.

  “Get her a peach bellini,” Raj ordered from across the cabin with closed eyes.

  “Right away,” the steward agreed and took off.

  “I don’t want a drink.”

  “It’ll relax you,” he continued to speak with closed eyes as his head faced me.

  The bare skin of his thick neck exposed the movements of his throat.

  “I think you’re about to do enough resting for the both of us.”

  “Well, I deserve to.”

  That comment seized my words at first.

  “What?” I finally asked.

  “What?” he answered with.

  Ragee was too calm. Too fucking far removed from his actions less than an hour ago. Who was this man and what the hell did he want from me?

  “I can’t believe you fucking did that!” I screamed. “Are you fucking insane?”

  “Why I gotta be insane?”

  “Because he’s harmless!”

  One brow lifted. “You think?”

  “We’ve spent the past three weeks together as a group. Of course, he’s friendly. What’s wrong with that?”

  “The fact that the nigga wanna fuck you ain’t enough?”

  While seated, my fists hit my waist and head slanted. “What makes you think he wants to fuck me, Raj?”

  “This!” His arm came flying toward me, holding his phone to my face. It took me a few seconds to read it, but I did. “Oh, shit,” spilled from my lips in a whisper.

  It was two nights ago, when he came for me out on the beach. Teke took a picture of me from behind, sitting on the sand and looking out at the water. The caption read: Next move. Wynterland.

  Right away, I went to my phone, foolishly needing to see it there. The moment I picked it up I remembered it was dead and slammed it back down on the table.

  “It was a post and delete,” Raj grumbled, sitting back in his seat. “You ain’t gone find it. That’s shit he be on, but you on some ‘we a family’ trip.” He snorted, looking the other way.

  “Why the hell do you even care?”

  His head swung over to face me. “I fuckin’ pour my heart out to you in Phoenix and you ask that dumb question?”

  “You love me?” My laugh was dry. “Really? You love someone you put out of your castle”—My arm swung in the air—“on a fancy carriage and write them off with no explanation? I know you got a lot of shit with you, but I hate to tell you: that ain’t a demonstration of love, honey!”

  “You don’t know what I feel!”

  “But you say it’s love?” I screamed. Raj’s face tightened. “Then you can keep that mercurial bullshit and end this like your cousin wants to. I’m good from here, buddy. I made damn sure since you sent my ass packing. Pretty sure I’ll be offered a contract within the next week.”

  A bitter chuckle spilled from his lips. “Oh, you’ll definitely be offered a contract. That’s for sure. And it’ll be a lot fairer than ya people’s back there.”

  I leaped in my seat at that implication. “What?” Was he saying… “Oh, no! You can’t even get that. I busted my ass in this program. I came with work and was recognized for my talent! You may not have had the time to teach me the basics of composition and production, but they did, and I learned and contributed. I met super powerful and accomplished people who affirmed my gift. Fuck you and your tenured ass arrogance, Mr. Ragee!” I spat so hard I was out of breath.

  Raj’s brows met, he cocked his head to the side, and clear was the humor in his eyes. He spoke evenly when he shared, “You think you completed L.I.T. Music’s boot camp on the merit you didn’t get into it with? You think you staying in the master suite of the ranch in Arizona and not at the same crib as the others in L.A. was conceived by…” His head swung, asking, “…Jackson Hunter?”

  Inside I recoiled. How did I not think he had a hand in keeping me away from the other candidates?

  “So you called in a favor to have me sleep in isolation! That has nothing to do with what I was able to bring to the table using my talent.”

  “Talent?” he scoffed.

  “Yes. God-given fucking talent! Ain’t that something you know about, church boy?”

  “Oh, I do. But talent alone don’t get you a seat at the table amongst the most talented musicians, singers, composers, and engineers in the country. You know that Steve dude did the vocal arrangements on Destiny’s Child’s last studio album? He wrote on Brielle’s last project and helped with the vocals, and he’ll be getting writing creds on Rhianna’s up and coming?” He lowered his chin. “She bought like three songs from him. Not to mention the green-eyed bandit and his crew opted to push back their first world tour while they’re popping like hot grease just to do this program. That’s how lit L.I.T. Music label is right now.”

  “And I performed well at it!”

  Raj snorted, head turned to the window to the right of him as his hand grazed his unkempt beard.

  “Nah, sweetheart. You were given special attention because of who you share a marriage license with. Fuck Lord, because he’s my friend. Of course, Jax, Dave, and them was gonna make sure you got special attention. You forget they want me over there at L.I.T.?”

  My head shook ferociously. “No!” I didn’t want to give this to him.

  “Wynter, you really think you survived that without influence? Who the fuck gets to sit with Diane Roberts and hold her attention past, ‘Hello, I gotta book of poems’?” He laughed menacingly, cutting me at the core.

  Just like that, cock-ass Ragee, the accomplished R&B thug was back. And out of nowhere a surge of rage I’d only seen from my male clients manifested. I was on my feet then on him in two point five seconds. I lashed my arms, smacking and punching him wherever I could get a lick in. I screamed, grunted, and plowed away. The only man who could elicit such annoyance from me was Van, the only man on Earth able to affect me deeply, and I’d never struck him. Never ever had I been this angry in my life, neither had I been a violent person, yet this was the second time I felt a rabid desire to hurt him in a way I could see him feel it.

  I could hear voices of alarm around us but didn’t care.

  “You can take it all back!” I screamed as he lifted from the chair with my legs wrapped around his narrowed waist and I pummeled him. “I don’t need shit from you! Take back your little necklace…your credit card…your fucking name!”

  “Wynter, man, please!” I heard while being extracted from Ragee. “Grab her leg from behind!”

  As I yanked his hair, frustrated by his perfect blocking of his face, I felt my leg being pried from Ragee’s ass. The moment I straightened it to ease the pain from someone’s hand, I was yanked from Raj’s frame. He came into sight, barreled over, covering his face, arms thick and wide, viral like the fighter he was. Only he was in
defensive mode.

  “Hit me back! Someone who’s expecting you!” I kicked my legs in the air.

  “Get the fuck outta here, Raj!” I realized was Danny G, holding me forcefully as I twisted and yanked fruitlessly in his fold.

  Ragee’s head came up and the horror-stricken, betrayed expression flashed in his eyes.

  “C’mon, man,” Lil Bruh advised as he gently tapped him on the arm. “Give her a minute. Y’all need to chill!”

  I don’t know how long Raj stood there gaping at me, not out of breath or hardly physically distressed as I was. His eyes examined me as I carried on, tiring myself out.

  “Wynter, if you don’t calm down, the captain gone get involved. He can land the plane and delay us, man.” I’d never heard the degree of tenderness in Danny’s voice as he’d just given.

  As I watched Raj slowly turn and head to the back of the plane, exhaustion fell upon me and my legs stopped thrashing in the air. When I stopped, I realized just how breathless that moment of craze had left me.

  “You good?” Danny asked. I nodded. “You ain’t gone shoot back there like a bat outta hell when I let you go, is you?”

  I shook my head, feeling a fresh cascade of hot tears fall down my face. The moment he released me, I limped over to my seat, throwing my head down on the table in front of me and bawling my eyes out.

  The door to the truck closed and we pulled out of Teterboro airport. I sat still, thinking…wondering. Wynter and I stayed separated the whole flight. I couldn’t sleep, became restless since she blacked out on me. I tried to center myself while in the back. I prayed and got easily distracted. Started harmonizing in my head, which was how most songs began for me. But every time someone walked up toward the front of the plane, I’d stop to watch and listen for her.

  Now, we were back in Jersey and where I’d hoped we’d stay together until we could figure out our next move. That was before she stepped out of the house with Teke’s arm around her shoulder, kee-kee’ing it up. Having to see them around each other on social media was a different experience than the real deal. My initial plan was to fuck with his money by talking to his bosses about his contract. But all that changed when I saw his hands on Wynter.