Page 70 of The Stepbrother 2: Noah

Vintage band tees were folded neatly next to designer dresses. Scarves with bold African patterns hung from hooks. The air was thick with the scent of her perfume, a fruity smell she’d designed just for herself, that she’d been wearing since forever. I had walked through each inch of that room, so I knew exactly where to go. Under her old costumes was a chest. I had come across some pictures of her she wouldn’t want anyone to see there once when I was about fifteen, the last time I went in there, so I never got a chance to fully explore it.

I knelt on the soft carpet. The chest was this old wooden box, adorned with carvings that were so intricate they had to mean something. As I opened it, the hinges groaned. I started pulling everything out one by one, checking. I found the picture I was looking for at the very bottom. One of Momma and Lyfe in a field of sunflowers, looking at each other, staring so deeply into each other's eyes it couldn’t have been anything but love between them. Then there was one of them in a hotel; Momma was standing on top of the hotel bed in underwear and a t-shirt,looking like she was singing. She looked so young. I stopped at that picture, afraid I’d see something more intimate, and laid it on the floor next to me.

Under the pictures was a velvet liquor bag. Inside were cards and a letter. I carefully unfolded the letter. I began to read it aloud, "Dear Scarlett, I can't make any fucking sense of why you're willing to give him another chance after what he did. For a year you’ve been telling me how angry you are. We've just begun to uncover what's between us. It seems clear that there's something unique here, and I believed you felt it too. Let's talk this through before you decide. Meet me."

“What are you reading?” My Daddy’s voice cut off my words. I jumped and tried to hide the letter. I could tell by how wide his eyes were that he’d heard me.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going to breakfast.” I tried to sound normal, but my heart was banging against my chest.

"Your mother asked me to pick out something nicer for Ayaan to wear..." His voice faded as if the words I had just been reading penetrated his brain. I followed his line of sight. He was looking at the pictures scattered on the floor next to me. I cursed myself for being nosy.

Suddenly he just turned and left the room, and I knew I had really messed up. I got up and left the closet, screaming for Noah. I found Daddy, Noah, and Momma in the kitchen. Daddy handed Noah the baby and asked if he could excuse him and Momma so they could speak privately. Momma looked so confused by the anger radiating from Daddy. When she looked to me for answers, all I could do was say, "I'm sorry."

“What did you do, Creed?” Noah asked as he pulled me from the kitchen.

They argued for hours, and then the front door slammed. I didn’t know what to do. Later, I saw on the news that Daddy had gone and confronted Lyfe at his hotel. Someone recorded it all. He didn’t come home that night or the next five. I felt like shit.

Noah-

"Where's Ayaan?" my father asked about my year-old daughter as soon as I walked into the green room of the late-night rock show. His mind went to putty anytime his granddaughter was mentioned. Plus, he was probably nervous. His appearance on the show later would be his first in over twenty years. Now that he'd resurrected from the dead, he was getting all kinds of calls. He used the excuse that he was mourning his parents to hold off until he was ready. It was bullshit. He had pushed his momma down the stairs without blinking and hadn’t voiced any regret. He was scared of competing in a world he'd been removed from for so long.

He answered his own question before I could. "Oh yeah, she would be sleeping. That’s what 1-year-olds do at night," he said as I eyed him. He was dressed in ripped jeans, a Kings of Leon band tee, clean-shaven. He looked as young as me.

"You walk too fast, Noah," Creed came in behind me. My father's face lit up. Wolfgang loved Creed like his own child, but that could have to do with her treating him like he was her father too. She shoved past me. I watched her ass bounce as she made her way over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. She kept talking about getting rid of the baby weight, but I was enjoying it. The small tight dress she had on had my heart beating funny. She was so thick and soft all over.

"We’re here and ready to fucking rock," Troy came into the room next, yelling, slurring the words. He had been in full rockstar mode since we arrived in L.A. He and Scarlett were performing together in public for the first time since their divorce six months ago. Which was probably why he was drinking so much.

I regretted hiring Lyfe now. He had been the secret that broke their marriage. Troy asked for a divorce after Creed found the pics of Lyfe and her mother. Scarlett fought him tooth and nail not to because she knew it was pointless, but Troy had it in his head that it was the principle. Their first marriage was broken, and that meant divorce. What he didn’t expect was Scarlett to be spiteful. She was dating. And dating heavily. Movie stars, rappers, social media stars. Troy tried to get back at her by fucking younger women. Scarlett didn’t bat an eye. All this was going on, and they were still basically together. They still shared a house and bed. I think they both wanted a break from the monotony, not each other. Their new relationship was like a rollercoaster ride of emotions and drama, and I couldn't help but wonder how it would all play out in the long run.

Creed felt the divorce was her fault, but both Scarlett and Troy told her it wasn't. I told her the truth. She should have minded her own business or been sneakier. They were already walking a tightrope; she helped push them off balance.

Troy obnoxiously threw himself onto the sofa. He was wearing jeans and a band tee too, some German artist he loved. His bodyguard took a seat next to him. He and Wolfgang started talking about rehearsals. I joined Creed at the food table, ignoring the food, smoothing my hand over her soft ass. She swatted me away and whispered. “Scarlett didn’t show up for rehearsal and hasn't been home in two days. That's why Daddy’s acting like he's 25," she whispered against my arm just as the subject of our conversation entered.

Our backs were to the door, so we only knew Scarlett was there because Troy cursed, "What the fuck are you doing, Scarlett?"

I turned around in time to watch Troy snatch Scarlett from the arm of former Compton Avenue rapper 727. This guy didn’tfucking learn. A couple of years back, I had nearly put his head through the office window. He had no respect. Creed hadn’t renewed his contract, but he still prospered. He was a hit on social media, showing up at studios and challenging other rappers to rap battles. He had a few million followers. Gen Z loved stupid motherfuckers...

Clay stepped forward to separate Scarlett from Troy, but she waved him off.

"I’m doing what I want, like you. I saw your little girlfriend’s pictures on Instagram. She looked well-fucked, laid in the bed in your secret condo. Yeah, you thought I didn't know," she taunted. "What, she’s like twenty-five? Younger than your daughter."

Troy's face went red, and he dropped his head.

She nodded and said, "Exactly, leave me the fuck alone."

I wanted to knock the entertained smirk off 727's face, but I knew Scarlett would hurt his feelings more than I would hurt him physically. Scarlett has some Badu, voodoo shit going on. She made men she dealt with act crazy, and she really didn’t give a fuck about them. It would always be her and Troy. Everybody knew that but them.

The green room was filled with awkward energy. I was so glad the producer walked in and told Troy, Scarlett, and Wolfgang to get ready. Scarlett and Troy would behave on stage. They loved their career more than they loved fighting. Scarlett sauntered past 727 in a mini skirt and cut-up Lakers jersey, pausing long enough to tell him to wait for her.

We followed her, 727 tried, but I had Clay make him stay behind. We watched from behind the stage. The crowd went wildwhen Scarlett started singing my father's most popular song a cappella.

“Love is like a hurricane. Leaves you battered, leaves you slain. Toxic whispers in your ear. Pulls you close, then disappears.”

Then Troy hit a guitar riff that sent them to their feet.

After the song, the host approached with a microphone, ready to ask them questions about their music and their lives. Troy cracked jokes, Scarlett flashed her signature smile and did a little shimmy, and Wolfgang had to talk about why he faked his death. He didn’t look happy, but he told his story.

After the show, we all agreed we’d head back to the mini mansion in the Hills that Creed had inherited from Lil Compton to celebrate. We all made our way out of the studio, heading towards the waiting car parked outside. There were a few people waiting for autographs. Scarlett, Troy, and my father obliged. Even 727 had a few fans among them.

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