Page 60 of Tangled Hearts

Hov used his key to get in, telling Qua to go play while he looked for Christian.

He looked around the house and noticed a few takeout boxes scattered around the living room and open kitchen area.

Shaking his head, he started putting everything in the trash.

It had been weeks since he’d last seen Christian or heard his voice.

Hov felt he’d waited long enough, now he needed to do a house call.

Just as he was done washing the few dishes in the sink, Christian walked out of the back, a fitted tilted on his head, beard uneven, eyes red.

He lowered himself onto the couch, rubbing his temples.

“You living foul as hell in here,” Hov commented, tying the trash bag. “I came to check on you. I got a meeting with Sassy in a few hours. You should come.”

Christian leaned back, rubbing his face. “Nah, I’m good.”

Qua frowned, looking between them. “Daddy, Uncle Chris don’t got no food. Can we bring him some?”

Christian let out a tired laugh and pulled Qua onto his lap. “I’m alright, lil man.”

“You don’t look alright,” Qua answered, his tone matter-of-fact.

Hov smirked but kept his focus on Christian. “You been missing too long. Niggas saying you off the map. That don’t look good.”

Christian ignored him, reaching for his phone. He dialed, waited, then cursed under his breath when it went to voicemail. He tried again. Same thing.

“She not answering?” Hov asked.

Christian shook his head, staring at the screen. “Hell nah. I don’t even know what to say if she did.”

Qua touched his uncle’s cheek. “You sad ‘cause of Titi No?”

Qua was inquisitive, peeped shit just like his daddy. That old soul had been passed down.

Christian pressed his lips together, hugging the boy tighter. “Something like that.”

Hov sat down across from him. “Listen, if Noir don’t want to hear you right now, let her be. If she comes back, do right by her. If not… let her go.”

“Like you did? I ain’t built like that, Hov.” Christian was mindful in not saying Knycole’s name while Qua was around. The little boy already put too much together and understood well beyond his four-year-old mind.

“You really be talking out the side of your neck, nigga,” Hov’s nose flared. “I ain’t come for all that though. My house might not be in order but I ain’t do the unthinkable and think I was gonna get a pass for it just because I had some money in my pockets.”

Christian’s head snapped up. “You telling me to give up on her? After everything I put in?”

“I’m telling you to stop killing yourself for somebody who ain’t answering the phone.”

Christian ignored him. Instead, his thoughts went back to the park and how Hov showed his hand. This would be their first time really talking about it.

“You picked them niggas over me… You stood in that park telling us you’d take all of us out if we touched Rock... Then you be laughing and kicking it with that nigga Cash. You really choosing them?”

“I don’t choose sides,” Hov countered. “I’m tryna keep us alive. Rock ain’t perfect. Neither are you. Cash ain’t did nothing to you. You just being a bitch. Y’all don’t even see I’m the only one holding shit together.”

Christian’s chest rose hard. “You just gon’ let him slide while I’m sitting here bleeding out?”

Hov sighed tired of the conversation. “You been gone from the streets. Just gon’ throw all that away ‘cause Noir gave you a taste of your own medicine?”

“Fuck the streets,” Christian snapped.

“Easy for you to say,” Hov shot back. “Hand that shit over to me then.”

Christian’s eyes softened. “I’ll burn every key I got before I let you touch it.”

Hov raised an eyebrow. “Damn, you don’t want me to eat?”

Christian leaned forward, his voice rough but clear as he spoke.

“It ain’t about that. I don’t want you buried in this shit like me.

We gotta get out one day. I don’t want to be my daddy, and I don’t want you trapped in fast money either.

Nigga, you smarter than all of us. You can make something real. I hate that I even brought you in.”

The words hit Hov harder than he wanted to admit. He stared at his son, who was rolling a car across Christian’s arm like it was a track.

“Daddy,” Qua interrupted, looking between them. “Why you and Uncle Chris mad? Y’all brothers.”

Christian froze, his eyes dropping. His throat worked, but no words came. He hugged Qua against him, eyes burning. “Something like that, lil man.”

Hov rubbed his hands together. “Don’t worry about it, Qua. Grown man business.”

Qua frowned. “Then fix it. Grown-ups s’posed to fix things.”

Hov and Christian locked eyes. Neither of them spoke. The weight in the room was louder than anything.

Breaking the silence, Hov cleared his throat to change the subject. “You caught up with Chanta yet?”

Christian shook his head, rubbing his beard. “Nah.” He reached for his phone again, dialing Noir’s number. The call went unanswered. He pressed redial anyway.

Qua slid off Christian’s lap, tugging Hov’s hand. “Daddy, can we go to Old Nick’s now? I’m hungry.”

Hov nodded, pulling his keys from his pocket. He looked at Christian one more time, wanting to say something that would fix it, but nothing came. “Get up out this house, bro,” he muttered, moving toward the door.

Christian didn’t answer, phone pressed to his ear, still chasing a woman who refused to pick up.

But before Hov could get out the door good, he had one last thing to get off his chest. “You don’t owe the streets what they took from you.

And you damn sure don’t gotta prove you from somewhere just to be somebody. ”

He sat back slow, chest tight.

“Build something that lasts. That’s the only way we win.”

“Love you, Uncle Chris,” Qua said cheerfully.

Christian looked at Hov holding Qua’s hand. “I love you too… more than you’ll ever know,” he whispered the last part just as Hov closed the door behind them.

Hov pulled up clean as hell. His slacks fit just right with a crisp white button-down and designer sneakers that kept the outfit true to who he was.

No grill in, but the tattoos crawling up his neck spoke for him before he opened his mouth.

He shook off the nerves, reminding himself he wasn’t stepping into this meeting as just Quameek from the block—he was here as a man building something for Qua.

For Knycole.

For Rock even though he wasn’t fucking with him anymore.

For Noir too because she would always protect her even though she claimed to have life figured out. Hov knew she didn’t and really hid behind a slick mouth and pretty smile.

Sassy was already inside Sunsets and Moonlights, laptop open, phone buzzing every few minutes. She glanced up when he walked in, her eyes lingering a little too long before she snapped them back to her screen. “You on time. I like that.”

Hov slid into the seat across from her, a faint grin pulling at his lips. “Time is money, ain’t it?”

She leaned back, assessing him. “That’s what they all say. Question is, do you believe it?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He tapped the table lightly, glancing at her notebook. “I know how to hustle. Know how to flip work. Property can’t be much different—buy low, fix it up, sell high. Right?”

Her brow arched. “That’s the surface. Anybody can parrot that back. The real money is knowing when to sell and when to hold. You don’t give up the corner store that feeds the whole neighborhood just because somebody flashes a check. You wait until you can own the block. Then you decide.”

Hov nodded slowly, the old-soul calm in his eyes. “That sound like dice. I been playing dice with people my whole life.”

Sassy smirked. “And who’s been winning?”

“I’m still here, ain’t I?” His grin widened, effortless charm slipping through.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re young, but boy... Most of these little boys I meet either too arrogant or too lost. You’re neither.”

“I can’t afford to be,” he replied, tone even. “I got a son watching everything I do. I want him to see me build something good. Buy the block instead of supplying the block.” he smirked throwing her words back at her from the day they met.

That shifted her expression. She finally closed her laptop, giving him her full attention. “That right there is the difference. Most men your age are chasing the next dollar. You’re chasing legacy.”

“Legacy don’t pay the light bill, though,” Hov countered, smirking again.

“No,” she agreed, “but if you play it right, legacy will pay your grandson’s.”

He leaned back, hands folded in his lap. “That’s what I’m on. I’m tired of just surviving. Christian told me to get into property, but I want to learn it for myself. That’s why I’m here.”

Sassy studied him, clearly intrigued. “I hear you talking, Quameek.”

“I ain’t never talked just to hear myself, Sassy.”

They let that hang. Sassy opened her computer again, tapped her screen before flipping it around to show him a map of property lines and red-flagged lots.

“So,” she began, clicking her pen, “I’ve looked over the numbers you sent. You’re sitting on a couple duplexes in a neighborhood that’s being watched heavily by developers. You bought in before it got hot. Smart.”

“Bought in ‘cause it was home,” Hov leaned back, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. “Didn’t nobody want to touch them blocks five years ago. Now the Whole Foods crowd wanna bike through ‘em.”

Sassy chuckled. “You got a little vision, I like that.”

Hov nodded. “Whatever that mean.”

She scribbled something on her notepad. His voice had a calmness to it, the kind that made people listen without realizing they were. “I’m guessing you’re not trying to sell everything just yet.”

“Some of it, maybe. The ones with weak bones. But I ain’t lettin’ go of the corner lot. I been eyein’ a Black-owned café setup… vintage theme. That’s as far as my mind took me,” he laughed lightly.

“Sounds personal.”

“It is.”

Sassy respected that. She leaned forward, the air shifting as the flirtation in her gaze slipped back in.

“You know when to make it about the money and when to make it about the memory.”

“You gotta do both. Heart don’t pay property tax, but it do keep you grounded. I’m tryna flip smart… In it for the long game if I’m really gon’ do this.”

She nodded. “Then here’s the play. Hold the corner. Flip the weaker duplexes, especially the one with that plumbing issue you glossed over in your email. Use those funds to upgrade the café property without touching your reserves. Stay liquid but build equity. Make the white folks nervous.”

That made him laugh. “You dangerous.”

“I’m expensive.” Sassy crossed her legs, her foot brushing against his leg under the table. She didn’t try to do it but wasn’t mad about it either.

He licked his bottom lip before sitting forward. “How you learn the game?”

Sassy didn’t blink. “I watched my momma lose our house when I was ten. First thing I did when I turned twenty-one was buy a duplex in cash. Been climbing ever since.”

Respect showed in his posture. “You married to the game, huh?”

“Only ‘til something better comes along.”

Their eyes held. She didn’t break.

He tilted his head. “You ever teach all this?”

“Only to people who deserve it.”

“You tryna figure out if I do?”

“I already figured. Just not sure if you got the discipline to stay at the table when the deals get real.”

“I ain’t got the luxury to walk away,” Hov replied. “Not when I done buried people behind these dreams. I’m all the way in. Gotta right my wrongs”

She looked at him like she saw past the nice fit and clean cut. She saw the block on his shoulders, the tired in his drive. She liked it. “Okay then, young mogul. You play your cards right, I’ll show you how to own this whole damn city.”

Hov gave her a look that was more dangerous than flirtatious. “I always wanted to be a king.”

She laughed, extending her hand for him to take. “Listen to what I say, how I say it, and when I say it. Not too much back talk and you’ll be sitting on the throne before you know it.”