BEY
New life. New job. New home. New goals...
I vowed to make drastic changes and to never fall back into old habits. But then Shawn Carter showed up and blew all my good intentions to hell. I should have stayed away. I shouldn't have played his ga...
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Chapter 32
SHAWN
It’s her day off, which I learned after braving the hospital again. Fortunately I didn’t have to run into the linebacker devil woman to figure that out.
Just as I decide to drive by her house, I see her red Acura pass me, and I follow her all the way to her driveway because I’ve gotten pathetic like that.
I didn’t give her the chance to explain, but now I’m demanding that she listen to my explanation. My hypocrisy really shouldn’t surprise her by now.
Weirdly, Nicki is the one who steps out of the Acura when I get out of the car, and she puts her hands on her hips as she stares at me.
“Why are you driving Beyoncé ’s car?” I ask, as though I have the right to.
I mean, her car is in the driveway. Why not drive it?
“Because mine was full of things from the school play Angel is putting on, and I needed to pick up some things for Beyoncé .”
I really don’t know what to say to that, but Nicki doesn’t look like she wants me to just walk into Beyoncé ’s house without some sort of explanation.
“I take it you’re the roses and nightie sender? I kind of had a feeling it was you,” she states flatly.
We really suck at sneaking around.
“Um… Any chance you could withhold that information from Nas? I’d like to tell him myself.”
She doesn’t show any emotion as she leans against the back of Beyoncé ’s car.
“Considering how poorly she received those gifts, I don’t think she’s into you anymore. What’d you do?”
“What makes you assume I’m the one who did something?” I immediately shoot back a little angrily.
Did I mention I suck at talking to people? I’m used to cutthroat businessmen and women. Not regular people.
Nicki doesn’t back down though or even seem the least bit intimidated.
“Because Beyoncé has a habit of picking guys who don’t appreciate her. She’s too good for the jerks who treat her like shit on a side dish. You’re not going in there unless you tell me what you did.” Groaning, I scratch my head, and I do tell her. Because apparently Nicki isn’t the meek woman I thought she was. Right now, she’s a vicious guard dog waiting for a reason to bite.
When I finish laying out the minor misunderstanding, she looks pissed.
“How many girls party at your house?” she asks randomly.
“Hell if I know. Why?”
“Because Beyoncé has one guy at her house who answers her phone, and you react like that? Just go, Shawn . She deserves someone who isn’t looking for a reason to break her, and you’re an idiot and a hypocrite.”
She pushes off from the car and moves around to the back door of the car. I catch the door before she can open it fully, and I glare at her. “I have my reasons for reacting the way I did. It won’t happen again. And I’m not telling you my reasons until I explain things to Beyoncé .”
“Well, not today. She’s sick. And I’m talking high fever, barely able to move, flu-like sick. She needs to see a doctor, but she won’t. Never does. A nurse who doesn’t see the doctor… Yeah, it’s irony, but it’s Beyoncé . And I’m staying until she feels better.”
Beyoncé ’s sick? Shit.
“I’ll stay. You don’t need to stay and get sick, considering you have a kid.”
She snorts before jerking the door. I let it go, and she leans in and grabs some bags that I snatch out of her hands.
“I mean it, Nicki. You can poke your chest out like you’re big and bad, but I have no qualms about ignoring you and pretending you don’t exist. It’s not like you’re strong enough to stop me from going in there. I’m staying with her, and when she feels up to talking, I’ll explain what went down.”
She eyes me like she’s deciding whether or not she wants to stab me or slap me. Heh. I feel kind of sorry for Nas now.
“Look, Nas’s already worried you’re ready to bail on him. If you start staying here, he’s going to panic even more.”
Her eyes soften, and she takes a breath. “I’m never going to bail on him. Why does he think that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, but he didn’t want me around Beyoncé because he was worried I’d fuck up—”
“Like you did,” she interrupts.
“—and then you’d be upset with him,” I finish, acting like she didn’t butt in.
“I’m never going to be upset with him over something you did. I don’t know you and I don’t care to at this moment.”
“Well, good, because I don’t really like talking to women unless it’s about business. They tend to want to talk about feelings and shit, and that’s just too chick for me.”
She arches an unamused eyebrow while glaring at me.
“Except Beyoncé ,” I amend. “I like talking to Beyoncé . And Jada’s cool when she’s talking about something evil she wants to do to Will.”
Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t allow herself to smile. Finally, she blows out a long breath.
“Are you messing with her head?” “Pretty sure she’s the one messing with mine,” I admit.
Again, she tries not to smile.
“Beyoncé ’s not an easy one to get close to. She’s friends with everyone, but close with very few.”
“I’m aware. It took a lot of stalking just to get her to warm up to me the first time,” I confess. This time, she laughs.
“I’ll wait out here. If she doesn’t want you here, I’ll be staying. But I’ll give you a chance to see if she’ll let you prove yourself.”
She thrusts a few more bags at me, and I struggle to collect them all as fast as she’s handing them to me. Holy shit. Did she buy out the grocery store? And why do chicks think you have to get it all in one load?
“Her favorite soups are in there. Keep her hydrated. If her fever gets too high, take her to a doctor, even if you have to take her kicking and screaming.”
As she rattles off a bunch of other instructions, I start struggling under the weight of the entire fucking store she bought. But I stay patient until she’s finished. She gives me one last wary glance before moving toward the door.
“Ten minutes. I’ll wait out here for ten minutes. Then I’m coming in.”
Instead of arguing, I let her open the door for me, and I walk into the dark house. Every single curtain is closed, which Nicki said to make sure I kept them closed, since Beyoncé has a headache.
I can barely see what I’m doing as I put the bags down on the ground and stumble my way toward the living room. Fucking eh.
As soon as I enter the living room, Beyoncé jerks upright, going still, even though it’s hard to see her. In the next second, she squeals and grabs something before launching it, and I curse when a hammer slams into my head from across the room.
“Motherfucker!” I snap, grabbing my head that is still pounding.
That damn thing hits the ground and starts vibrating against the tile, dancing in a circle at my feet. That’s when I realize I didn’t just get hit by a hammer. Is that… Is that a fucking… No way…
