Page 64 of Tangled Hearts

Rock’s hand moved steadily, as the buzz of the tattoo gun filled the room. Cash sat back shirtless, grinning while he held his phone to record a piece of the session. “Nigga, you might be the coldest out the gate. This shit don’t even hurt.”

Rock chuckled, leaning in to shade. “You cappin’. I know this needle burning like hell.”

Cash tapped his chest. “Nigga, this Jade City skin. We built for pain.”

They both laughed, music bumping through a Bluetooth speaker. Cash’s own unreleased tracks shook the floors. He rapped the words under his breath while Rock nodded along, catching the cadence.

“You know this gon’ blow, right?” Rock pointed with his chin as he wiped the ink. “Ain’t nobody fucking with you when it comes to this music.”

Cash smirked, pleased with the co-sign. “Just don’t forget who you tatted first when your shop blow up.”

Rock laughed. “You ain’t the first. I was tatting niggas in prison.”

It was true. He’d always knew he could draw but while being locked up, he needed something to keep his mind from going mad. Now, he was excited about possibly turning it into something tangible.

Rock cracked a grin, but his mind lingered.

A shop. His own space. That was the next move he needed to make.

Not somebody else’s condo, not a trap house, not a jail cell.

A shop meant a lease in his name, lights that stayed on because he paid the bill, a chair for Rodeisha to sit in while she colored, and a place where Shakeisha could finally look at him and see more than what he used to be.

He wasn’t trying to live in the streets no more.

He didn’t want his daughter growing up waiting on phone calls from behind glass.

He wanted her to be proud when she told people her daddy drew on skin for a living. That he built something. For her. For them.

He thought about all the years he wasted in the streets.

Thought about the time he lost behind a cell door.

He couldn’t get none of it back, but he could build something new.

Something real. If he was going to keep food on the table and clothes on Rodeisha’s back, it wasn’t going to be from handouts or dirty money.

The gun buzzed against Cash’s chest again, and Rock exhaled through his nose. “I ain’t trying to run the block no more. I’m tryna own something. I want my baby to see me locked in, not locked up.”

Cash glanced up from his phone. “That’s how you supposed to think, Rock. Niggas like us don’t get too many chances. You better take this one and go all in.”

Rock nodded, wiping down the fresh ink. He already knew—this was his leap of faith. Either he sank back into the streets, or he proved he could stand tall without them.

The front door opened without warning. Noir stepped in, with sunglasses on, and a bag on her shoulder. Her jaw dropped when she saw Rock hunched over Cash with the gun in his hand. “The fuck… you can tattoo?”

Rock smirked, lifting his eyes. “Surprise, nigga.”

She walked closer, inspecting the piece on Cash’s chest. “Damn...” she admired. “Since when? I thought we was locked in?”

“We always gon’ be locked in… you just been keeping your distance from me,” he smirked, knowing she was about to have a full-on panic attack.

“Rock, please.” She rolled her eyes. Noir’s expression softened. She tapped his arm. “You’ll always be my brother though… even when we’re divided.”

Rock paused before nodding. “I know. I feel the same.”

Cash looked between them, grinning. “She right though. Y’all need to fix that shit. I grew up watching you and Hov be two peas in a pod. Down like four flats with Knyc and Noir. Shit ain’t been the same since y’all split.”

Noir crossed her arms. “You miss him. Don’t act like you don’t.”

Rock set the gun down, rubbing his neck. “You think I don’t? That’s my nigga. I just… I don’t know how we get back from all the shit in between.”

Noir’s voice softened. “Talk to him. You don’t have to figure it out in one night. Just start with a conversation.”

Cash nodded. “She right. And Rock? Don’t wait too long. Some spaces don’t stay open forever.”

Leaning back, Rock ran his hand down the back of his neck again.

He didn’t have an answer right now. All he knew was the weight in his chest never got lighter.

Nights didn’t hit the same without Hov right next to him, scheming, laughing, building plans only they could understand.

He hated to admit it, but it felt like part of him broke when they stopped moving as one.

Sitting there with Noir reminding him of loyalty, and Cash calling him out made him realize silence was its own kind of betrayal.

Pride was the only thing keeping him from crossing the street, knocking on Hov’s door, and telling him straight up he needed his brother back.

But pride was heavy, and Rock had been carrying it too long.

Rock focused on finishing the piece, but the weight sat heavy in his heart.

From the back, a small voice cut through. “Daddy!” Rodeisha padded in, dragging a doll by its arm.

Noir’s eyes snapped wide. “Why is Shakeisha’s baby here?”

Rock froze, then exhaled. “She mine.”

Wasn’t no need in prolonging the truth. That and he wasn’t ashamed of his seed. Roddy was everything he needed before he even realized he needed her. Finding out Shakeisha was pregnant while he was locked up was all the motivation he needed to pick up a tattoo gun and keep his fist out of trouble.

Noir’s mouth fell open. “You serious?”

Rock nodded. “Yea. Roddy, come tell your auntie Noir hey.”

Rodeisha was full of personality so she didn’t shy away from Noir. “Hey, Titi Noir,” she smiled knocking Noir back even further when that thin gap played peek-a-boo.

“Aww you are a little Shakeisha with your daddy’s teeth.” Noir crouched to hug Rodeisha, who smiled wide before running back down the hall. Noir stood, staring at Rock. “Knyc know?”

Rock shook his head while Cash cracked the hell up.

“Hov?” Noir asked next.

“Yea,” Rock confirmed.

“I should’ve known it… that man be keeping everything close to his chest.”

“Hov one of the most solid niggas I know,” Cash nodded, thinking about his boy.

Noir’s eyes slitted at Rock. “Don’t ask me to keep that secret. I can’t. I’m already carrying too much.”

“I know,” Rock admitted quietly. “But I’m just fucking with you, she knows.” He said just as Noir went to grab her phone probably about to tell Knycole right then.

She grabbed her chest. “I was about to say. How she take that?”

“Doesn’t matter, really. She’s off me and I’m off her,” Rock said so lackadaisical.

Cash furrowed his brows. “Nigga, still soft on her.”

“Always, but I know where home is.” Rock looked at his baby.

Noir needed to know, so she asked. “So, you gon’ be with Shakeisha?”

“Yea,” Rock didn’t hesitate.

Cash dapped him up. “I fuck with that… that’s big.”

Noir agreed. “We’re all a mess.”

“Speak for yourself,” Rock laughed getting back to the task at hand. The buzzing started again.

Noir was just happy to not have to carry another secret and to not have to break the news to Knyc knowing her girl was going through her whole healing journey.

If it was one thing her people were gonna have, it was a friendship full of twisted secrets.

She pinched herself when the awful secret she’d been keeping tumbled in her brain.

Rock having a kid would’ve hurt Knyc and probably did, but the one she carried for Christian was enough to break the strongest of men.

The silence lingered until Rock broke it. “I been looking at a studio space. Thinking about turning it into a tattoo shop. I want you to come check it out with me.”

Noir shook her head, grabbing her bag again. “I can’t. I’m going to Paris for Fashion Week with Cash.”

Rock laughed without humor. “Of course you are.”

Noir kissed his cheek. “Doesn’t mean I don’t believe in you. Just handle your shit, Rock. You’re finally moving forward. Don’t stop.”

Cash stood to check his chest in the mirror. “Nigga, this shit fire.” He rubbed his hands together, flexing his little pecks. “See? You good at something. Don’t waste it, nigga.”

“You been round Hov too long.”

Cash’s face went serious. “Yea, cause I’ve been keeping your spot warm.”

All Rock could do was sit back. There was nothing to say to something that was true.

Growth felt strange in his chest, but for once, it didn’t feel impossible.

Mae Lou kissed Rodeisha’s cheek before shooing them off her porch. “Y’all go on and enjoy yourselves. I got her.”

“Bye Mommy. Bye Daddy,” Roddy waved happy to spend the night with her Mae Mae.

“Be good baby,” Shakeisha hugged her.

“Love you baby,” Rock said kissing her forehead.

Rock adjusted the cuff of his blazer, nerves crawling under his skin.

He hadn’t worn a suit in years, but tonight wasn’t about him being comfortable.

It was about him showing up like Shakeisha deserved.

Strappy heels clicked against the pavement while Rock held his hand out as she stepped down in a green silk dress that draped her curves and stopped mid-calf.

“You some fine shit,” Rock murmured, brushing his thumb over her hand before he opened the passenger door and she sat down.

Shakeisha’s smile widened. “You clean up nice too, Rodrick.”

“I like when you say my name like that.”

“Like what?” She asked when he hopped into the driver’s seat.

Rock took her hand, placing it on the crotch of his pants. “With that tone that makes my dick do this… say my name. Watch this,” he coached, dimples cratering his cheeks from the big smile he couldn’t wipe off.

Shakeisha played along. With her hand on his dick, she said, “thank you for taking me out, Rodrick.”

On cue, his dick jumped and she cackled.