Page 13 of That: Taylor & Brooks

Brooks didn’t laugh. Didn’t flinch.

He was feeling something—but it sure as hell wasn’t funny.

He just didn’t have the words for it yet.

Marco watched him go, shaking his head, muttering under his breath, “Man, you gone already.”

The drive to Mack’s felt longer than ten minutes. Longer than it should for a man who supposedly didn’tgive a damn. Brooks was sick of his own company though. He’d never been good at making friends, though he had a few. He always kept people at arm’s length. Easier that way. Safer.

But Taylor... she’d slipped past those walls without even trying hard, with one phone call. He’d been cursing himself for picking up one minute and smiling the next. But his mind was made up. He’d be in her corner until she told him to stop.

“Mack, my man.”

Mack’s face shifted when Brooks walked in. Respect. Fear. A payday. Whatever. It made things easier. Brooks didn’t care he was on a mission, he wasn’t leaving without results.

“Bishop. What can I do for you?”

“Taylor Bradshaw’s car.” Brooks pulled out an envelope full of cash. Casual. Straight to the point. “I mean Martin. I need it moved up. Two weeks is unacceptable and lowkey predatory, nigga.”

“I’m backed up Bishop. I can’t pull a rabbit out of my ass.”

“Bruh, nah that’s too long for a woman to be without her vehicle. I need a satisfactory resolution, and I need it before I walk out. Or I’m spending my money somewhere else.” Brooks pulled another stack of bills from his pocket letting Marco know money talked and bullshit walked. He had money. They didn’t need to bullshit or play around. Either it was getting fixed here or he’d handle it.

Mack’s eyes followed the money like Brooks knew he would. “Three days?”

“Make it two.” Brooks’ said kissing his teeth. “And throw in a full detail. Fill that bitch up. No extra charge.Y’all make me sick, always on bullshit, always taking advantage.”

Brooks’ reputation would always precede him. He was masterful in any space he entered, a chameleon of sorts, equally comfortable, confident and with the shit if he needed to be. He’d either already done business with the people in the room or was owed a favor he’d never hesitate to collect. No negotiation was closed, and no door truly shut when Brooks decided to step through.

“What’s wrong with it anyway?”

“Dr. Pepper in the gear system. Transmission cable snapped. I think that husband did it. She wouldn’t say.”

Brooks pinched the bridge of his nose, as he closed his eyes. What type of weak-ass move was that? The pettiness of it, the deliberate cruelty ignited something dangerous in his mind. Whether Taylor had agreed or not he had half a mind to bust Tyree in his shit and see how he liked being mistreated. Brooks was both frustrated and even more concerned about what else Taylor wasn’t saying. He hadn’t noticed any bruises, but that didn’t mean much. People hid things.

While Mack processed the work order, Brooks scrolled through messages, trying to focus on actual business. Brooks had been texting with two developers wanting to discuss a mobile app for his company. A reminder about tonight’s city council meeting, his bid for the city’s emergency response contract hanging in the balance. Real things. Business things. Things that should matter more than fixing a car for a woman who hadn’t even asked for his help.

But here he was.

“Ok, I can do two days,” Mack finally said.

“Good looking out. I’ll be picking it up. So, call me. 2 days Mack or I’m coming back in a different mood.”

“Ok two days, damn Brooks.”

Back in his truck, Brooks stared at his phone, Taylor’s contact info calling out to him.

“Nigga, what is you doing?” He muttered to himself, rubbing his hand down his face. He was tripping and he knew it. But knowing something was wrong and not acting on it wasn’t in his DNA.

Brooks wasn’t the type to insert himself where he wasn’t wanted. He didn’t waste time on people who didn’t matter. And most people didn’t expect much from him beyond what he was willing to give. They assumed his quiet, reserved nature meant he lacked empathy. They were wrong. He just didn’t waste it on anybody. But Taylor wasn’t just anybody. She’d called him. And whether she meant to or not, that meant she was his to handle for now.

That was enough.

Brooks:I’m loaning you my Mercedes you can use it until you get your car back in a couple of days. I’ll drop it off in a little bit.

Her response wasn’t immediate. He kept watching the three bubbles pop up and leave, to only pop up again. She was ready to be defensive, ready to push back, to create friction where he was offering smooth passage. Ready to work his damn nerves.

Taylor:Brooks, I can’t.

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