Page 49 of Tangled Hearts

Now he sat in an expensive condo, shining in diamonds and designer, his career climbing every month.

But that wasn’t what impressed her. She had been with Christian too long to be starstruck by money.

What caught her was how, even with everything in his hands now, he still moved like the man who raised his sisters before he was even grown.

Provider, protector, the one they looked at with trust written all over their faces.

When Binky finally pulled up her grades, she shoved the phone in his face. “See? All A’s and one B, Carlton .”

Noir cackled at his government name. Of course she knew it but they’d called him Cash long before the fame, she often forgot.

Cash nodded, pulling out a folded stack of twenties from his pocket. He slapped it in her hand. “Keep it like that.”

Mook whined immediately, “where mine at?”

“You show me your grades too,” Cash said, and she groaned loud enough to make Noir laugh under her breath.

“Always on some daddy type shit,” Mook muttered, stomping to her bag.

Noir leaned back, eyes still on Cash as he dealt with them without raising his voice once. He wasn’t just shining; he was showing up, the same way he always had. And in the look his sisters gave him… half-annoyed, half-admiration—Noir could see what he was to them. Their hero. Their anchor.

Her phone buzzed again on the table. Her chest constricted, but she didn’t move to pick it up. She just sat there, caught between the man blowing her up from the outside and the man across the room proving his worth without even trying.

The club was shoulder-to-shoulder. Heat rising off bodies, still the vibes were there. Noir and Cash had gone to dinner where they fine dined and laughed until their bellies hurt. On the way to the show, they pre-gamed with shots and a blunt in rotation. Now, Noir was excited to see Cash perform.

When the beat dropped, the crowd erupted, rapping every word like it was scripture.

“Westside, Jade City, that’s the block that made me…”

The whole club screamed it back.

Noir screamed too, phone in hand, catching the moment on her vlog. She had the camera angled so her followers could see the sea of people vibing with him, the bottles in the air, and the raw energy of Black boy joy and survival mixing into something bigger than the music.

Cash was locked in. His chains swung every time he moved.

His shirt stuck to him from the heat but his delivery was sharper than she’d ever seen.

When he name-dropped Hov and Rock, the crowd lost it, voices rising like they knew exactly what he meant—who he was talking about.

Noir felt goosebumps spread across her arms, not just from the sound but from the way he owned the stage.

She mouthed every line, word for word, body swaying. “Seen Hov on the corner with a mind like flame. Smartest nigga in the set, but the pain still came. He a book in the flesh, heart heavy with scars. Still taught the block love like he read it in the stars.”

She had all the bravado because she knew the men he talked about. Had the privilege of being around for their come up and their downfall.

Cash held the mic to his lips, the rasp making her legs quake. “Rock held the weight, did time for the code. Lost years to the cell but came back still bold. I name-drop my brothers ‘cause respect run deep. We done bled for this pavement, now the city know we keep…”

He pushed the mic towards the crowd. They rapped the chorus in unison.

“Westside, Jade City, that’s the block that made me. Raised on cracked sidewalks, hunger tried to break me. Still stand tall, can’t no system ever cage me. Rap what I live—this the life that paid me.”

When Cash’s verse ended, he pointed at her from the stage, and she flipped the camera to herself, laughing. “Y’all see me? I’m with the hottest rapper from Jade City,” she teased, voice dripping with pride.

Minutes later, he was offstage, sweaty, and amped up, pulling her straight into his arms. His hands were everywhere.

One hand on her waist, the other sliding down her thigh, anchoring her against him like she belonged there.

The DJ switched to a twerk anthem, and Noir didn’t hesitate.

She turned and dropped it low. Ass bouncing against him while the crowd went wild around them.

Cash grinned, steadying her with both hands, leaning down to murmur in her ear, “Goddamn, you look good as hell, pretty girl.”

Noir laughed, throwing it back harder just to test him. “I know.”

Everything around them was reckless and loud…

just two people giving in to the night. This was something worth holding on to.

Too often, love in their world was about claiming and controlling, about who had the upper hand.

Here, in the sweat and bass, it was about release.

About being seen, wanted, hyped up in public without shame.

Because that was the lesson love kept teaching her. When a man put his hands on you in pride and not possession, that meant something.

Tangled hearts weren’t always about pain.

Sometimes they were about the joy you let yourself taste in stolen moments. The trick was learning the difference, knowing when to hold onto it and when to let it pass without chaining yourself to it.

Noir laughed when Cash humped her playfully, snaking his tongue in her ear.

For a moment, it was nothing but music and the electric pull between them. Until a hand gripped her arm.

She turned around fast, eyes flashing with shock before transforming into anger. “Get the fuck off me,” Noir snapped, jerking her arm back.

Christian’s jaw pulsed. His eyes were locked on her with a kind of love that always came out looking like war. “You really in here, dancing on this fuck nigga? That’s what we doing now?”

“Don’t do this here, Christian,” Noir said, looking around knowing cameras were already on them.

It was reckless of her to think Christian wouldn’t see it but that’s what a scorned heart did.

Made you reckless in a city whose king you had been running from.

“You blowing my phone up all night, and now you want to embarrass me in public? I ain’t with that shit. ”

Cash stepped up. His demeanor was calm but unflinching, his security was already moving into position. His hand stayed at the small of Noir’s back. “She with me tonight, nigga. Respect that.”

Christian’s crew spread through the crowd, eyes mean, hands twitching like they were ready to turn the club inside out.

Christian didn’t back down, though.

His love for Noir ran too deep to swallow. “Nah, you don’t get it. This my girl. I don’t give a fuck what tonight is.”

Noir rolled her eyes crossing her arms. “Your girl? When you out here making me compete with every bitch in the city? Nigga please… don’t claim me now.”

The sting of her words hit him, but Christian’s voice softened in a way only she could pull out of him. “You know I love you. Don’t play with me like this.”

Cash didn’t flinch. “Love don’t look like pulling her out a club, nigga. You love her? Let her choose. Don’t force no shit on her.”

Security shifted closer, but Cash’s tone stayed even like a man who wasn’t afraid of anything. He wasn’t. He was from the same streets, carried the same scars. The difference was, he played it cool.

Christian smirked bitterly. “You think ‘cause you got a chain and a couple records you can take my place? You can’t. I’m in her muthafuckin’ soul, lil boy.”

Noir stood between them, her voice cutting through the tension. “Y’all sound stupid. Both of you. One of y’all tryna own me, the other tryna save me like I need rescuing. I’m my own person. And right now? I’m choosing me.”

Christian reached for her arm again and that was it.

Cash moved fast, pushing Christian back so hard he stumbled into one of his shooters. The crowd screamed as bottles tipped and chairs scraped.

Christian swung back fast, catching Cash in the jaw.

Security rushed in, trying to wedge themselves between them, but fists were already flying. Cash got Christian in the ribs before Christian grabbed his shirt, dragging him into another punch.

Noir shouted over the music, shoving at anybody who came too close. “Stop! Both of y’all, stop this shit!”

But neither man heard her.

Christian’s shooters were at the edge of the crowd, hands close to their waistbands, ready. Cash’s security had theirs too. The whole place balanced on a knife’s edge. Seconds away from blood being shed.

Cash shoved Christian off him, chest heaving, face tight with focus. “Nigga, you don’t scare me. I ain’t one of these lame ass industry niggas. I come from the same block you do. Nigga, you know how I’m coming behind my respect.” Spit flew from his mouth.

Christian spit blood on the floor, grinning through it. “Nigga fuck you. Be lucky yo’ mama ain’t at home having a good day before she gets that call her baby boy dead.”

Cash pulled his jeans up ready to go at Christian again. He was talking real reckless and any nigga that talked like that had to be addressed there and then. “The fuck you just say to me nigga? Ain’t no bitch worth empty threats.”

“Ain’t nothing about what I just said empty, boy . You know who the fuck I am but Hollywood got you with amnesia or some shit. I will paint the city red behind Noir. Is her pussy worth your family losing their bread winner?”

“Now wait a minute!” Noir got in Christian’s face. “You doing too much when you need to be handling that hoe of a baby mama you got. I keep telling you, you can’t have me after that shit you did. What’s not clicking?” She mushed his head.

Christian caught her wrist. “Watch out, Noir.” He gritted his teeth, brown eyes boring into her soul.

She choked on her emotions. “Christian please… just let me go. Seeing you is hurting me. Like you ain’t even giving me time to think shit through. You’re crowding me. Forcing me to get over something that ain’t get over-able.” She wiped her face. “You can’t love me if you doing all this.”