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fifty-nine

. . .

It’d been two weeks since he’d smelt or held Eden.

A couple of weeks ago he took a red eye to show up at her check-up.

A few hours to get his fill, her scent on him again, and he was back on the road.

Tonight and tomorrow, he was in Ganton Hills.

The Monarch Stadium was sold out. DJ Rudy and DJ Eli had a battle of the deejays planned for opening the show.

Trio G and his crew were going to take the stage, the entire Beatsville team was going to come out and grace the stage before Maximus closed the show.

In all the hustle of the week and the day, he hadn’t mentioned that it was his birthday.

Earlier, he’d gotten a call from Eden and his mother, surprisingly, wishing him a happy birthday.

He didn’t want much – some real sleep, some good bud, and his lady.

He was at least two more weeks away from feeling the weight of her leg over him, cold foot tucked underneath his bare legs, and her growing belly taking up space between them.

“That smoke needs to be dancing when he walks through it,” Keon said to the stage crew.

Maximus stood in what would soon be the VIP section with standing room only, watching the final tweaks of the lighting, sound, and smoke ahead of his nine o’clock stage time tomorrow.

He was barely present – barely focused. He determined when he hit his second week of touring without Eden that this was going to be the last time he went on the road without her.

Whatever was necessary to keep her and their child safe, he would spare no expense.

He couldn’t do this without his family. Sure, he had Keon, Brody, and Staysha – every other week – to keep him going, but nothing and no one was Eden.

“Yeah, like that,” Keon continued, directing the crew.

Zaim took this moment to check Maximus’ temperature.

His creole-tainted voice broke through Maximus’ thoughts. “You good, nigga?”

“I’m cool,” he grumbled. “Thanks for putting your stamp on my shit.”

Zaim kissed his teeth. “Nigga, stop thanking me. The circle of real niggas is small. We happy to have you. Now be fuckin’ for real.”

After the comment left Zaim’s mouth, he winced. “Got dammit, Davina is rubbin’ off on me. I got to get my ass from around her.”

Maximus gave him a look and smirked.

“You ain’t goin’ no fuckin’ where. She ain’t either.”

Zaim chuckled. “She tried once. Moved right up the street from a nigga.”

The mention of Zaim’s better half made the ache he had for Eden come back. “Been on the road a month and some change and still can’t wrap my head around this shit. Sold out stadium, album doing numbers, almost in the black with El Jefe.”

“All that shit is big, but we weren’t expecting nothing less. Greatness is your name. But why you sound so sad about that shit?”

Maximus looked around. “It’s all beautiful and amazing, but E ain’t here to see it. I can send pics, call home and all that but if she ain’t here the shit don’t feel right. Since I got home, she’s been right to my right side. I be looking over there and finding their ugly asses.”

Maximus nodded his head to Brody and Keon with a slight smile.

Zaim chuckled. “You gone, nigga. But I get it. I don’t tour without my family. Having them backstage and at the hotel waiting on me keeps me grounded. Reminds me that while I'm out here being Big Daddy Zaim, I'm just Zaim. Father and husband. That shit is bigger than this stage.”

“I’m counting down the days until our kid gets here,” Maximus shared.

Zaim felt the longing he had for Eden. That needed to be protected.

“Ay, nigga,” DJ Rudy spoke up. “Penthouse finna open. Let’s go.”

Brody rubbed his beard. “Shit I’m down.”

Keon frowned his face. “I ain’t fuckin’ with Penthouse. Staysha ain’t finna do me like Poppi did them niggas.”

Maximus chuckled. “Y’all stay out of trouble. I’m going to the room.”

DJ Rudy smacked his lips. “Y’all niggas whipped. Y’all girls not even here. They ain’t finna know about shit. What happens on tour stays on tour.”

“No, it don’t,” Zaim grumbled. “Those bitches out there ready to wreck a happy home.”

“I turned Eden into a stalker; she knows my every move. And like Keon said – she got a whole lot of Poppi in her. Ain’t nothing in Penthouse for me.”

“My nigga,” Zaim applauded. “Y’all niggas hungry?”

Brody rubbed his stomach. “I can eat.”

“That nigga will always choose food over pussy,” Keon huffed.

“I prefer it at the same time, but I like my fuckin’ job. Queen E ain’t gon’ have my head ‘cause something happened to her Max Baby .”

Maximus flipped him the bird. “Fuck you, nigga.”

Brody groaned. “Nah, ain’t my type.”

Zaim shook his head. “Y’all niggas sound like my niggas. Go put on some fly shit meet me at Prime.”

Wrapping up rehearsals, the group separated to prepare for dinner.

When Maximus arrived at his hotel room, he was greeted by the same scent that filled his green room.

Before rehearsals, his green room was filled with his favorite snacks and weed.

Like she was running around setting things up and exposing herself. That’s how he felt right now.

There were balloons, flowers, and a suit. Maximus searched the suite, expecting to see Eden. In the closets, under the bed, on the balcony until he abandoned the search and FaceTimed her, only for no answer.

“Aight, E,” he grumbled. “You playin’ games.”

Dressed in an Ameechii suit and seated in Ganton Hills’ most elite steakhouse, Maximus swore he could smell Eden.

There were faint notes of her signature perfume.

A subtle tugging was driving him crazy with every step.

Strolling into the private room, the scent and the pull became stronger.

The private room was decorated with black balloons and linens.

The table was dressed with white flowers and candles.

Davina, Elijah, Olivia, Daysha, Julius, Haddon, Fatima, and Staysha were mingling.

While he was happy to see them, his heart sank, not finding Eden.

“Heard it was your birthday. You know when you come to GH, we gon’ celebrate you,” Zaim patted his shoulder. “Eat, drink, celebrate, nigga.”

Maximus made his rounds, thanking everyone for coming, and then took his seat. There was a handwritten note from Eden.

Cheers to the best year yet.

Your Garden, E

He studied the words, then threw his head at Staysha. “Yo, where is E?”

Staysha, with a piece of bread in her mouth, responded, “Working. She gave me strict instructions to make sure everything was set up right.”

“You fuckin’ with me?”

Staysha put another piece of bread in her mouth and shook her head.

Something wasn’t adding up, and Maximus was never above being played. He nudged Keon. “I think I'm finna dip after the main course. I’m losing my damn mind.”

“Fuck is wrong with you?” Keon questioned.

“I smell her. I feel her. She ain’t here. Either she’s here and fucking with me or I need to get home for a refill.”

“I think you need to drink this drink and cool the fuck down,” Keon muttered, handing him a drink.

Across the table, Brody questioned. “You aight?”

“I smell my woman,” Maximus grunted, on the cusp of crashing out.

“That’s ‘cause she’s standing right behind you, nigga,” Brody said with a chuckle.

Eden, who was standing behind him, clasped a diamond necklace with a 3W pendant around his neck and kissed his cheek. “You thought I was going to let you go through the day without celebrating you?”

Maximus looked down at his glistening neck, atop the first chain she’d bought him and turned around, finding Eden in a form-fitting strapless mini dress with her bump on full display. “I fuckin’ knew it. Been smellin’ you all damn day.”

He pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her face.

“I’ve been runnin’ around all day trying to beat you to places and stay undetected,” she hummed against his lips. “Happy birthday, Max Baby, I know you told me you didn’t want anything, but you deserve it all.”

“Y’all got to remember that y’all aren’t alone,” Brody grumbled. “Every time.”

“Aren’t you paid to be unseen and not heard?” Staysha quipped. “Let that man have his moment. We got to get you a girlfriend so you can stop being a hatin’ ass nigga. You too big for that.”

“You gon’ let her talk to you like that?” Kenyan, Zaim’s head of security, joked.

Brody looked at Keon, glaring at him in a dare to say something back to Kenyan. “Hell yeah, I am.”

“That’s what the fuck I thought, Bransheer,” Keon snickered, and it sparked chuckles throughout the table.

Kenyan let out a hardy laugh, “Yo, your name is Bransheer?”

“That’s why he lets her talk to him like that,” Fatima giggled. “It’s not a bad name, though.”

“Fuck it ain’t,” Keon commented.

Eden took a seat next to Maximus and joined in the banter until she realized Fatima was alone.

“Where is Rudy?” Eden whispered in Maximus’ ear.

“Penthouse,” he whispered back.

“Damn.”

“And he tried to get my black ass to go.”

Eden rose a brow. “You got Penthouse at home.”

“Sure as fuck do.”

“Eat up, you’re going to need it.”

From dinner to Zaim’s Beat Factory, a new nightclub, Maximus was celebrated. Zaim kept Ganton Hill’s finest bud in rotation. Eden was either twerking on him or tucked under his right arm. Right where he needed her. He looked down at her and swiped a piece of hair from her face.

“You aight?”

Eden beamed up at him. “You good?”

“Ain’t never had a birthday party,” he rumbled in her ear. “Thank you.”

“I’m not even done yet,” Eden hummed, before nudging him. “They want Trae Way.”

Zaim handed the mic over with a rumble. “Spit yo’ shit, nigga.”

Maximus tapped Eden’s hip and took the mic. Eden moved behind him, finding a seat next to her sister. Staysha, who was enjoying the liquor for both her and Eden, smacked Eden’s ass and squealed, “your man is about to fuck the club up!”

“By far my favorite shit.”

“Ganton Hills, I heard y’all fucking with ya boy! Heard you. Ay, DJ, drop my shit.”

The song Maximus did with Zaim dropped, sending the partygoers into a frenzy.

“Heard ya, heard ya. Yeah, nigga, I heard ya. Heard ya, heard ya, yeah nigga. Baby, I heard ya. She said Baby, hold ya head, that crown get heavy, but you chosen. Heard ya,” Maximus rapped.

Zaim chimed in. “Ay, nigga, I heard ya, heard ya. Lady said we don’t invite the devil in. Heard ya.”

“Got a shorty from Magnolia. Attached to the divine. I swear that shit holy. Got a scope on, niggas trying to take my head up off me. Protection got me out here flexin’. Boppin’ like a nigga escapin’ crucifixion.”

No matter how loud the crowd roared, Maximus would’ve heard Eden rapping along with him. That was what he needed. That was what he missed.