[Mohammed Cadillac Omir]

continued...

𝖂𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 up to the front of where everyone was standing, Cheyenne's florescent beige skin glistened against the dark blue of her denim corset and matching wide legged jeans. Her stilettos clicked with each step. She smiled, waved and told everyone, "I'm no painter!" With a soft chuckle. She looked around, up and through the crowd, looking for one person specifically before she began. Seeing Dame come through the doors, she hoped he'd be coming in right after so she began. "Quincy and I partnered up specifically for that reason. Because, I can't even draw a stick figure.. However, I had this grand idea."

Q came over and whispered in her ear.

"Oh, sorry." She put her hand out, "I didn't even introduce myself!" She began fidgeting with her clothes because Cecil still hadn't come in yet.

"I'm Cheyenne Adebanjo. I'm a mother to two beautiful children. A baby girl and a soon to be preteen boy." She exhaled, "I am a cosmetologist and a master teacher. I've been in a salon since I can remember. My sister, Sade, and I co-own a salon downtown and we're opening a few more locations by the end of the year if everything goes well. I grew up in  Upstate New York. I was born and raised there. I moved here to Detroit after I married my husband, Cecil." She kept going, stalling for him to come in. She could see him still lingering outside of the building. "You might be wondering what any of this has to do with what's behind me, hiding underneath this cloth." She chuckled.

"Dame, Three just called me. I have to go." Cecil said as soon as he finally entered the gallery doors.

"Why? What's going on? Let me get Cheyenne." Cecil stopped him.

"Nah, it's not an emergency. He just wants to talk."

"So you just going to leave?" He asked, looking back up to where Cheyenne is holding the crowd's attention. "It kind of looks like she's waiting for you." He looked back to Cecil.

"She's not waiting for me." He said in a defeated tone, "Look like she got her friend with her anyway." He looked up to see Cheyenne watching them with Quincy standing right behind her.

"It's not even like that. Trust me."

"Yeah, whatever. Tell her i'll see her when she gets home. If she does come home."

Dame huffed, not having anything further to say. He could tell that both Cecil and Cheyenne were both feeling identical— uncared for, hurt, and forgotten yet still deeply in love.

"Aight." he tapped Cecil's arm, "Let me know Little is okay." he requested.

"Yeah. See you later Dame." he walked through the door, leaving the gallery.

Dame turned and saw Cheyenne's body language change from hopeful to hopeless as she continued to speak to the crowd as she watched her husband depart.

"And so, we'd like to present to you—" her sad voice went on, handing out the last words of her speech, "Because I Love You."

The 5'5 woman, walked away as the veil was removed from the 60x30 inch canvas she and Q had been collaborating on for the past two months. Tonight, she'd planned to surprise Cecil with the painting, but nothing had gone according to plan.

In the bathroom, Cheyenne came out of the stall with a red face. She wet a towel and began the task of concealing the aftermath of her breakdown.

Taking deep breaths and blotting her face, she heard her name called as the door opened. "Girl, I thought you weren't coming." She replied to the sight of one of her colleagues, Kalis Armstrong. "I thought you had clients all day."

"I did. And my last client was someone who I really really like and want you to meet." She grinned.

"Your hood nigga?" She asked with a smirk.

"Ding ding ding." She laughed. "Tonight is our first date."

"That's too cute. Thank you for coming girl."

"Of course of course of course. I'm surprised you're still here though. It's well after midnight and you got two kids."

"What time is it?"

"Its almost two AM."

"Oh shit." She chuckled, washing her hands and ripping a towel from the dispenser. "I need to go home."

"You been crying? Your voice is hecka deep."

Cheyenne sighed. "It's just been a long day."

Kalis came closer and pulled Cheyenne into a hug. "It's all gone work out boo." She cooed into her ear. "Plus you smell good as hell." She sniffed her again, "Smells familiar."

"Girl ain't nothing but that cashmere vanilla I was telling y'all about the other day."

"Ma'am, no." She squinted her eyes, "That's a nigga smell. Cologne. I bought the same one for Quincy for his birthday. I love that scent."

"Hm?" Cheyenne bulged her eyes, wrinkling her forehead.

"Quincy. Remember I told you about him. We used to chill. We cool now though." She shrugged.

"Quincy? That nigga with the dreads? The one who I collabed with on this project?" She asked, "Y'all hooked up?"

"Girl, cold tea." She shook her head.

"I thought he was gay. I be all—-" she stopped as she had been gagged by the realization that her intuition was right all along. Q was feeling her.

"Cheyenne."

"Girl."

"Cheyenne!"

"Oh my God. Kalis."

"CheyENNE!"

"Kaliiiiissssssss." Her eyes grew bigger with each lingering 's' and she threw herself into Kalis' arms. "Fucking hell fucking oh my God. I'm going to kill him."

"But—" Kalis paused and Chey stood up.

"But?"

"But what if he really wasn't trying to hook up with you? What if he's genuinely your friend?" She brought up a brighter more acceptable idea. Cheyenne stared at her, disbelieving but still shrugged and nodded.

"Because i'm his friend."

"Right. And he's your friend." She curled her lips up.

They side eyed one another.

Kalis opened the bathroom door and Cheyenne walked out of it with Kalis in tow. Standing just outside of the restroom was a tall medium brown man wearing chunky gold buffs with his freshly plaited individual braids covered the sides of his face and beard covering the bottom half of his face except for the gap created by the scar tissue that travelled vertically the entire left side of his face. He removed the glasses as Kalis approached him, revealing  his eye that was covered with healed flesh, constricting his vision.

"Cheyenne, meet Mo." Kalis grinned, "Mo, this is my girl Chey. She owns the salon I work out of when i'm not traveling."

"Nice to meet you Chey." He smiled. Cheyenne hugged him and instantly shivered. Although she was smiling, she got a bad vibe from him. "So you was unveiling a new painting tonight?" He asked her.

"Yes! It's my debut." She told him and led the two to the wall where her and Q's painting hung.

"Oh my gosh! Damon!" Kalis yelled, spotting the familiar face of Cole's brother from across the room as the group of three headed towards him. "It's so good to see you!" She hugged him and turned back to Mohammed, getting ready to introduce them but got the urge to step back instead. "Have you gotten the chance to check out Chey's painting yet?" She asked. Dame was stuck though, staring at a dead man. Though he knew, per Maurice, that Mohammed was still alive, no one had seen him in years. So his living was only speculation, however strong.

"Dame, seriously?" She mumbled, tucking a braid behind her ear, assuming that Dame was staring at Mo's scars. Going along with Kalis' assumption, Mo put his glasses back on, pretending to be ashamed of his scars and offended by Dame's stares.

"We're gonna go look at it." She said, escorting Mo from Dame's viewpoint, though his eyes followed the man through the crowd.

"You alright?" Chey asked him.

"You know who that is?" He asked her, though it was obvious she didn't know. "Remember the night Cole made us all meet up. We were talking about somebody that Lonnie shot but mi—"

"That's that Mo." she cut him off, immediately knowing where he was going with the story. "So Maurice really saw him."

"Yes, and Lonnie really fucked up."

"Shit. He did that to his face?" She gasped, "Dame, that nigga is blind. Did you see that?"

"We should go."

"Why?" She asked, "Does he know you?"

"He knows me." He said surely. "And now he knows I know you."

"Okay? And what does that mean?" She turned her lip up.

"My brother tried to kill him. My brother fucked up his face. That's only what we know. I don't think Kalis should be around that crazy nigga at all. But she's not my family, you are. So let's go."

"I gotta say bye—"

"Lets fucking go Chey." He grabbed her arm.

"Woah Damey Dame the fuck you grabbing her like that for?" Q asked, walking up to them, taking Dame's hand from Chey's arm.

Dame nodded his head towards Mohammed and Quincy huffed recognizing Mohammed instantly, "Shit." He mumbled. "Aight, I'll see you later Chey." He told her, walking with them to the door.  "Text me when you get in." He instructed her, still walking with the two of them.

"Dame, hold on. I thought," he paused, Chey and Dame stopped walking and the three of them stood in a triad a little ways down the street from the building. "So, when we saw him with Cobe— he was faking? He was supposed to be dying."

"You gotta see his face, Q. He definitely wasn't faking being hurt."

"But the shit about them just waiting for him to die..." he trailed off.

"I knew they was lying to us."

"But if he's alive then he definitely killed Cobe." He concluded his scattered thoughts, surely. "Why else would they even lie? What are we supposed to do?"

"Nothing.  We just stay out his way." Dame intervened.

"He killed our friend. He took Cobe from us." Q insisted, confused by Dame's absolution.

"He got his karma. We don't do anything. Like Dame said, we just leave him alone." Chey agreed.

"So we leave him alone and let him do the same thing to Kalis?" Quincy challenged her, getting only confused looks from the two. "I know everything that happened between him and Co. I warned him so many times that it seemed like he was using him and like taking advantage of him but he never listened. And I let him convince me that what they had was real and that he needed to go check on his wellbeing and I took him right over there. I gave Cobe to him."

"No, Quincy."

"It's true. I read those last messages every fucking day."

"Q, you were Cobe's peace. You made sure that he was good at every moment— to the point where even in his last moments you made sure that he got closure and felt peace and felt loved and you didn't have a clue that that would be the end. He died hugging you. You were never wrong."

"It doesn't feel that way Chey."

"I'm sorry to interrupt." Dame interrupted, "But, if he was so called using Cobe. What was he using him to do?"

Quincy shrugged. "I always had a feeling that Mo and Lonnie were connected. But, Cobe never wanted me to ask questions whenever he would vent to me about other people he was messing with. It was a stupid rule, but I just always respected his wishes."

"His stupid ass ruins everything." Dame grumbled. Cheyenne and Q looked at him, offended, "Not Cobe. Lonnie."

"Right, he's your brother. Why don't you ask him about his and Mo's relationship. Maybe we will have something to go off of."

"Oz been told us to leave the shit alone. I'm not going to ask Lonnie shit. I don't talk to that nigga."

"That's selfish."

"No. What was selfish was me making Cobe call Lonnie after he already washed his hands of him. If anybody is to blame for Cobe's death it's me. I reconnected them." Dame admitted something he'd felt guilt over for years.

"Why? If you don't like him?"

"Y'all wouldn't understand." He mumbled. "Chey, you ready?"

"No, I wanna know the answer."

"I don't want to talk about it." He took Quincy's hand and pulled him into a bro hug.

Walking down the street to the parking lot, Dame kept Cheyenne's speed. "I spoke to her." Chey started, they walked slow. "She seems sweet."

"Mhm."

"She said that the last time y'all talked, you told her she was so important to you but you couldn't choose her. She said she knew you would be a good father. But you couldn't be a good father in two households and Sade got you first. I guess I understand her."

"I'm not saying you are wrong or that she is wrong. I think that you both take responsibility and honor and loyalty very serious. And, you both made silent decisions."

"No I told her." He defended himself.

"Right, from what I know so far, you just told her you promised to take care of Sade. And she accepted it. Y'all never really talked. But, it doesn't seem like she's angry or resentful."

"Then why did she block me?"

"Probably to resist the urge to give you a reason to come for her. She said that she does regret the way she told you though. And I agree. I think if she didn't want you to choose her or whatever, she should've kept it to herself until she was ready."

He blew out a breath of frustration.

"She's ready now— to talk." Cheyenne handed him a folded paper. "She asked me to give you this."

"I just was scared to say something because I don't want to go back to New York. I really like living here with my cousins and my new bros."

"I don't know what to say."

"I know that my uncle is involved in a gang and I promise i'm not even interested in that or anything. He just told me to call him if I have any problems. So I knew I had to tell him what happened."

"What uncle?"

"Uncle Mac. He told me—"

"When have you ever spoken to Mac?"

"At Uncle Maverik's house."

"Noted." He said simply.

"Are you mad?"

"At you? No. But i'm going to Maverik and Holle as soon as the sun comes up."

"Why?" Three asked his dad, "They don't even know about anything."

"How? If he was at their house, they know he was there. You know what Three? The person who doesn't know about anything is you. You need to learn to—"

"Stay in a child's place. Noted." He pouted, "This is why I never say anything." He mumbled to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm going inside."

"No you're not. We're not done."

Three folded his arms against his chest, scowling at the dash board.

"Two things, Three." Cecil started. "One, MacArthur is not your uncle. That man aint family to you. Stay away from him and his sons." He huffed. "And two, You can always talk to me. You know that. So, even though i'm glad you finally told me what happened, I'm still disappointed in you. You should have called me right away."

"But, what could you do if they'd threatened us? Uncle Mac has a lot of people to help."

"I got my own people too Three. You got your own people. Never forget that. You an Adebanjo. That name and that lineage comes with a lot of money, power and people. You don't gotta run to no gang banger to get you out of anything. You understand?"

"Yes sir."

"You call me."

"Yes sir."

"And another thing." He blew out a long breath. "You did the right thing. Never fold, never kneel— to anybody. People take advantage of who they think is weak. Even if you are scared, never show it."

Three nodded.

"You can go inside now if you want to. I'm gonna wait out here until your momma pulls up."

"Where is she?"

"We were out with some friends at an art gallery."

"You left her?"

Cecil shrugged.

"Dad, you can't just leave. That's the most important rule when going out. It's the buddy system. Anything can happen."

"You're right. That was my mistake."

"I'm calling her."

"Yes son son?"

"Mom, i'm with Dad. He picked me up from Bryce house a little while ago. Are you almost home?"

"Where y'all at?"

"At home."

"Can I talk to your father?"

"Cecil, can you meet me at Dame house? I'm gonna go by and pick up Rosie on the way home."

"Sure." He started the car and opened the garage door back up. "Everything okay? You still at the gallery?"

"No, we heading out now. Dame trailing me. Somebody showed up, got him in a funky mood."

"Rane?"

"You know Rane?" She asked him, "But no, not her."

"I've met her. Didn't know her and Dame dated though. But, who else was there?"

"Starts with an M. Very scary." She threw out hints.

"Maurice?" Three guessed. Cecil shot him a look as a reminder to mind his business. "But it's my phone." He argued.

"We're on the way Chey."

"Alright, I'm about to call Sade. See you in a minute."

P: October 21, 2024