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forty-one

. . .

“This nigga made it through the whole day without slappin’ nobody or ripping off a mic and walkin’ away. He ain’t shut down or nothing,” Keon praised.

Brody chuckled. “Nigga must’ve been sent out the house with some act right this morning. I just knew he was gon’ have me tacklin’ someone. And I’m kinda upset with Eden that I couldn’t put nobody on the ground.”

“The day is still young, don’t jinx this nigga.

You know his sensitive ass can swing to the left or to the right,” Keon grumbled, his eyes on his phone and not in the direction of where Maximus’ eyes were trained.

Had Brody or Keon been paying attention, they would have noticed Maximus tuck his chains into his designer knit.

Rehearsals for tomorrow’s show were minutes away, but his attention was on a promise he’d made months ago.

Rico Johnson. The handsy, lying, mouthy-ass, pussy ass nigga that he should’ve put on his ass at the basketball game. As the group strolled past Rico, Maximus removed his hat and handed it over to Brody before stopping and nodding at Rico.

“What’s goodie, nigga?” Maximus rasped.

If him handing his hat off didn’t grab Keon’s attention.

The phrase, "what's goodie, nigga” was Maximus’ verbal sign that shit was about to be ugly, bloody, and someone’s face was getting rearranged.

Before Keon could push his boy away from a potential issue, Rico curled his lip, scoffed, and asked, “fuck you want?”

The question was punctuated by Maximus’ scarred fist to the center of his face. Rico stumbled, attempting to balance himself, only for Maximus to hit him with a left hook.

“Damn, nigga, at least fight back,” Brody chimed, watching Rico getting rocked.

“Nigga! Ain’t your ass some type of security?” Keon fussed at Brody. He was aware of the way this could potentially go. Brody didn’t show an ounce of urgency, pouring a handful of Skittles and shaking them like dice.

“For that nigga, not that nigga,” Brody shared, pointing between Rico and Maximus. “Not to mention, his boys left his ass here to get beat the fuck up. Ain’t nobody comin’ and you know like I know to let that nigga rock.”

By now, the handful of people Rico was with had scattered off, and Maximus was squatting over Rico’s slumped, bloodied body.

“You breathe in my lady’s direction, I’ll stomp your muhfuckin’ dome in.

” Before standing upright, Maximus snatched Rico’s diamond chains from around his neck, the watch off his wrist, and took his shoes just for added effect.

“I advise you to stay yo’ ass out of Trae Way because every time I see you, I'm whooping your bitch ass over and over again. Come to think of it. I got some homies who like puttin’ they hands on niggas the way you like to do women. You know, feelin’ them up and shit.”

“Fuck you, bitch.” Rico’s words were coupled with a bloody gnash of teeth.

“Oh?” Maximus mused before looking over his shoulder. “Keon, call Baby, tell him Rico Johnson interested in having a talk.”

Maximus, roaming to the sound check, left Rico on the curb, robbed of his dignity and leaking blood. Brody and Maximus traded the hat for the chains.

“What you gon’ do when you go to a Waves game?” Brody questioned for amusement.

Keon chuckled, knowing that this industry would never take Maximus’ grit. “After getting his ass beat like that, he’s probably better off shooting those bricks from the parking lot.”

Maximus sparked up. “No one touches lady. Ain’t no fuckin’ discussion.”

Brody and Keon yielded to Maximus and trailed him to rehearsal. It was clear that the sight of Rico and the recall of Eden’s trauma had turned Maximus into the ruthless nigga he kept tucked away behind his unbothered demeanor.

When it came to Eden and her safety, or his name – cool and unbothered, went out of the window.

With that, Keon and Brody knew – along with the rest of the hired crew – that Maximus was on one and anything was liable to happen.

Especially if anyone else said or did anything that didn’t align with the warning he’d put out.

“What’s going on?” Eden asked, as she stood in the mirror examining her dress and hips. “I got to get back in the gym.”

Maximus barely looked up from his phone. “Nah, don’t do that. You look good.”

Eden turned on the balls of her feet and faced him. Since he’d returned from rehearsal, he’d been weighted. Her feet traipsed to him, guided the phone from his grip, locked it, and sat on his lap. “Tell me what’s going on?”

Maximus flexed and released his knuckles. “I’m centering.”

Eden arched a perfectly filled brow.

Maximus relaxed underneath her, his hands finding her hips. “I guess you should know before someone else tells you. I beat the fuck out of Rico. And before you say something, I told you it was on sight with that nigga.”

Eden kissed his cheek. “I wasn’t going to say anything. Nothing but thank you. And since we’re putting people in their places, I’ll have you know that I spoke to Sydette today about sliding her inflated ass in your DMs. Let’s hope she understood what I so eloquently said.”

Maximus smirked amusedly. “Eloquently? Is that going to be the same report I get from Staysha or the security?”

“No one can give you a report because I followed her into the bathroom, locked us in, and waited until she came out of the stall. It was a Poppi move, I know it like the back of my hand. I told her there are a million other DMs for her to be in, and yours isn’t one. The next time, I might not be so nice.”

“Got dick and started acting like me.”

“They said that transfer of energy is something serious.” She repositioned herself. “Now, how can I help you center?”

Maximus looked up at her, all made up and put together. “Lemme just look at you. Hold you.”

Eden held his face securely and lovingly in her hands. He exhaled, she inhaled. Their eyes connected, bodies connected without sex, just intimacy.

“You know I’d go to war for you, E.”

“You know I'll slap these bitches for you,” she said with a smirk. He gave her a look. “Yes, I know. You ready to go? It’s your big night.”

“Give me five more minutes of stillness.”

She rested in his hold. “Take all the time you need, baby.”

“We going to this after party?”

I think it’ll be good for you to be in the mix just for a little bit. People need to see your face.”

He groaned and washed his hand down his face.

Eden laughed. “You’re the most introverted rapper of all time.”

“Ain’t shit wrong with it either. They don’t need unlimited access to me, that’s how muhfuckas gon’ get slapped and I’ma keep being labeled a hot head.”

“We’ll go for an hour and then we can do whatever you want.”

“Mm mm,” Maximus groaned. “You’ve been doing everything for me since we got here. Even the shit you had to do has been centered around me.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well," he hummed, picking his phone up from the empty space on the cushion. “Before you sat your pretty ass on my lap. I had Staysha send me info to this spot on the water. It’s private a good view or we can trade the fancy shit, hit up the strip, find an arcade and hustle them little niggas.”

“We can get tacos?” Eden posed.

“Anything you want.”

“Let’s go hustle them little niggas and then buy tacos with their money,” Eden replied as she sat up. “Our quiet time is over, time to go out into the world.”

Maximus grunted, pulling her back to him. “E.”

“Yes, Mad Man Max,” she teased, looking up at him.

He smirked. “Mad Man Max got a ring to it, not gon’ lie.”

“It does. Write me a song about it.”

He laughed. “You want a song about everything so you can tell me it’s trash and give me those judgmental eyes.”

Eden rolled her eyes and waved him off. “You get on my nerves.”

“I know there’s one in particular that has you messing up good sheets and shit. Squirting and shit. I’m trying to run that back.”

“Oh my God, leave me alone.” She continued to laugh as she sat up. “Anyway, what were you going to say?”

“Any bullshit ass questions they got, let me answer them. Aight?”

Eden stood and straightened her dress. “Heard you.”

Outstretching her hands for him to take, Maximus stood. With a kiss to her face and a tap to her ass, he nodded toward the door. “Let’s go before your bossy ass sister gets to knocking.”

“You put her in that position. That’s the monster you created.”

Eden fluffed out her curls, reapplied her lipstick, and sashayed to the bedroom door.

“Hell nah, Keon created that monster.”

Out of the room and out to the sprinter arranged to transport them to the show, Maximus sat nearest the window and watched the suburbs turn city.

“Ay, Ke,” he called over his shoulders. “Remember?”

“Hell yeah. Transporting shit from Waynesville down here and getting pulled over on the turnpike and your ass faked an asthma attack.”

“Either that or be in prison still,” Maximus shared, as Eden interlocked her fingers with his. “Now we back and it ain’t for the gang.”

“I told you, nigga. Keep rapping and get us the fuck out.”

“Keep rapping to keep us the fuck out,” Brody added.

Maximus nodded, squeezing Eden’s hand. “I got y’all.”

Eden propped her chin on his shoulder. “We got you, too.”

On the red carpet, the couple took photos together and separately. For Eden, it was a full-circle moment. The spotlight was on her and Maximus, positive energy and good vibes, until they reached the last interview with ShadyPalms.

“We got the hottest couple out right now. Trae Way MB and Eden Sage, how are y’all feeling tonight? You two look good.”

“Thank you,” Eden hummed sweetly, holding tightly to Maximus’ hand.

“She fly, ain’t she?” he complimented, a proud smirk on his face. “Glowing and shit.”

“Baby,” Eden grinned, her cheeks heating. “Stop. It took a minute to pull this off.”

“She is, and so are you.” The reporter ogled him. It was a move to get a reaction out of Eden. Maximus tightened his grip around her hand. A subtle gesture. “Even with the noise that this is for clout, you two make it look so good.”