Page 25 of That: Taylor & Brooks

And spoiler alert, he now wanted Taylor any kind of way he could have her. If friendship was all she could offer right now, he would take it, until she was ready to offer him something else.

First, he had to put Tyree in his place and make sure he stayed there. Brooks’s shoulders tensed up thinking about the petty shit he was on. The minute Brooks heard he got out; he had put someone on him to keep an eye on his movements. That’s how he knew he’d shown up at her place tonight.

He shook his head thinking about her keeping it from him, but he understood why. Taylor didn’t grow up the way he had. She didn’t get taught that sometimes violence was the only language certain men understood. But Tyree had made a critical mistake showing up at her spot when he’d already been warned to stay away.

Brooks had hoped it wouldn’t come to a face-to-face, but some lessons had to be taught in person.

Brooks found Tyree exactly where his people said he’d be drowning what was left of his pride across town at the Drinkin’ Problems Bar. The moment Brooks stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. He didn’t do loud crowds and sticky floors anymore. It wasn’t his scene.

Tyree didn’t notice him approach, too lost in his vodka to sense his worst nightmare behind him. Brooks studied him for a moment, remembering Taylor’s face that night he picked her up from work exhausted, humiliated, broken down by the man who’d sworn before God to protect her. Just looking at Tyree’s pathetic ass slumped like a victim made Brooks’s hands itch.

“Listen.” Brooks’s voice cut through the bar noise as he settled onto the stool beside Tyree. He caught the bartender’s eye, and with one look, the man understood. Tyree’s glass wouldn’t be refilled.

“I hear you been showing up at Taylor’s house uninvited. That shit ends today.”

Tyree turned, alcohol giving him courage he’d regret. His eyes narrowed in recognition they’d crossed paths enough at Blake’s for him to know exactly who Brooks was.

“That’s between me and my wife. Why you worried about it?”

“Ex-wife soon enough,” Brooks corrected, his voice carrying that deadly calm that had made grown men tremble. “You made it my business the second you disrespected and disturbed her peace.”

“Oh, I see.” Tyree’s laugh was bitter. “It’s you that got her acting out. You want my wife? You fucking her? If so, you can have the boring bi-”

Brooks moved faster than Tyree’s drunk mind could process. One hand gripped Tyree’s throat, the other pinned his wrist to the bar with enough force to make bones creak.

“Don’t do that. Choose your next words carefully,” Brooks whispered, close enough that only Tyree could hear. “Because they might be your last.”

Fear finally broke through Tyree’s drunken haze. He tried to swallow but couldn’t against Brooks’s grip.

“See, I got a special hatred for niggas who mistreat women,” Brooks continued, his voice still low but filled with assurance. “Makes me want to show them what mistreatment feels like. What real pain is.”

His fingers tightened slightly, making Tyree’s head on the bar. “You understand what I’m saying?”

Tyree’s light skinned face flushed red, his frantic nodding the only answer he could manage.

“When those papers come, you’ll sign them. And you’ll disappear from her life—quietly. Permanently. Are we clear?”

Brooks leaned in hoping to hear his answer. He let go and Tyree gasped and wheezed.

“We’re clear. Crystal clear.”

Brooks released him, watching with cold satisfaction as Tyree slumped forward, gasping. He wiped Tyree’s sweat off his hands and tossed the napkin his way.

His smile was all warning, tight lips, no warmth.

“You pop up again, it won’t be a convo—it’ll be condolences. And they’ll say ‘you fucked the city up with this one’. I don’t miss.”

When Brooks stepped into the night air, he inhaled deeply, letting the tension drain from hisshoulders. A light laugh escaped his lips he’d never moved like this over a woman before. And he hadn’t had to yoke a nigga up in a while. He still had it in him.

If Tyree thought, he could keep playing with Taylor’s peace he would show him just how wrong he was.

He hoped Tyree was smart enough to take the warning. But if he wasn’t? A drinking problem would be the least of his worries. Brooks hadn’t forgotten how to make problems disappear permanently.

Chapter 8

Taylor sat in her car, gripping the manila envelope that reduced years of marriage to legal documents and check boxes, and gave herself a pep talk. The courthouse steps had never looked so steep as they did today. But she wasn’t upset, things had to fall apart so they could come together.

“You can do this,” she coached. It had to be done. She couldn’t delay it anymore. She didn’t want to. She hadn’t planned to. Tyree showing up drunk and reckless made the choice for her. And made it feel urgent. The quicker she got this over with the quicker she could figure out her next step.

---