pretend he was listening. Cyrus smiled and said, “Go ahead, Smoke. I’m listening.”
Chase’s eyes grew even icier when he walked around the desk and stood in front of him. “I just need you to understand what you just did, Cyrus. You’re still my brother—I can’t change that—but we ain’t friends no more. I can’t respect you no more, Cyrus, ‘cause you won’t respect me. You’re settin’ yourself up so that Khalid will be your only ally. You’re losin’ me, Cyrus, and you best believe if you do, I’m takin’ my little brother with me. You need to be real careful with me, Cyrus, ‘cause you don’t know me like you think you do.”
“Okay, Chase. Whatever you say.”
Chase frowned at him. “Did you hear what I just said to you?”
Cyrus nodded. Of course he had heard, but he really didn’t listen or care. It was just a variation of the same nonsensical babble he spewed every time he made a request like this. “Yeah, yeah. I heard you. Okay. All right. Fine, Smoke.”
Chase stepped away from him. “What happened to you, Cyrus? I mean, you always had some shit to you, but when did you become this motherfucker I’m lookin’ at now?”
What happened to me? You happened to me! Before he thought about it hard, Cyrus had Chase’s collar in his hand, and everything else was a blur. Chase tucked in his bottom lip, stuck his foot behind Cyrus, and turned his body. His left arm came up, and his elbow met Cyrus’s nose with a crunch . Cyrus shut his eyes against the pain and let go of his brother’s collar. Chase stepped into him with his shoulder, forcing him backward, as Cyrus stumbled over Chase’s shrewdly planted left foot. The small of Cyrus’s back hit the desk violently, and Chase was on him in an instant, his left hand circling his neck.
Cyrus was trying hard not to choke on the blood that was threatening to clog the back of his throat. He opened his eyes in time to hear what Chase had in his hand before he saw it. Click- wick- wick! Cyrus flinched and blinked. Chase had spun that damned silver-handled straight razor out of his pocket like a gunslinger in a Western. It was open and gleaming right by his nose. Cyrus held his breath. This nigga crazy, he thought, realizing all that shit had happened in less than a minute.
Chase’s face was close to his, and now he was smiling. “You grab me at your own risk, Cyrus. I think you better think twice before you do it again.”
“Let me up, Chase.” He wanted it to come out sounding like a command, but it sounded more like a squealing plea. He hated Chase for it.
Chase’s smile became a grin. “Say ‘please,’ Cyrus.”
“I’m chokin’! Please.”
Chase let him go and went to the door and opened it. “Now get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see you again until I’m ready to discuss Wolf. In the meantime, leave Corey alone.” Chase returned to his seat behind the desk. “Shut the door on your way out.”
Cyrus was in no position to talk shit or even try. He staggered his ass out of the office and to the front door.
“Look at this! Did you take a tumble down the steps, Cyrus?” J.T. asked, laughing.
Cyrus glanced over at Bliss. She was in the middle of an interview, and whatever she was saying, her mouth was a perfect circle. When she glanced over and saw Cyrus, she excused herself and rushed over to him.
“Oh my God! Are you okay, Mr. Brown?”
J.T. clapped him hard on the shoulder. “He’s great, Bliss. Continue your interview. I’ll walk him to the door.” J.T. turned Cyrus toward the door with the hand he had on his shoulder. He threw it open and gave Cyrus a shove. “I’d love to throw you out on your ass, but I’m afraid people will talk.”
Cyrus watched the door to his own club slam in his face. It was, in his opinion, completely disrespectful, and whether they knew it or not, they’d just started some shit, and regardless of what Chase thought, Cyrus wasn’t afraid of him. Your ass is gonna
Chase’s eyes grew even icier when he walked around the desk and stood in front of him. “I just need you to understand what you just did, Cyrus. You’re still my brother—I can’t change that—but we ain’t friends no more. I can’t respect you no more, Cyrus, ‘cause you won’t respect me. You’re settin’ yourself up so that Khalid will be your only ally. You’re losin’ me, Cyrus, and you best believe if you do, I’m takin’ my little brother with me. You need to be real careful with me, Cyrus, ‘cause you don’t know me like you think you do.”
“Okay, Chase. Whatever you say.”
Chase frowned at him. “Did you hear what I just said to you?”
Cyrus nodded. Of course he had heard, but he really didn’t listen or care. It was just a variation of the same nonsensical babble he spewed every time he made a request like this. “Yeah, yeah. I heard you. Okay. All right. Fine, Smoke.”
Chase stepped away from him. “What happened to you, Cyrus? I mean, you always had some shit to you, but when did you become this motherfucker I’m lookin’ at now?”
What happened to me? You happened to me! Before he thought about it hard, Cyrus had Chase’s collar in his hand, and everything else was a blur. Chase tucked in his bottom lip, stuck his foot behind Cyrus, and turned his body. His left arm came up, and his elbow met Cyrus’s nose with a crunch . Cyrus shut his eyes against the pain and let go of his brother’s collar. Chase stepped into him with his shoulder, forcing him backward, as Cyrus stumbled over Chase’s shrewdly planted left foot. The small of Cyrus’s back hit the desk violently, and Chase was on him in an instant, his left hand circling his neck.
Cyrus was trying hard not to choke on the blood that was threatening to clog the back of his throat. He opened his eyes in time to hear what Chase had in his hand before he saw it. Click- wick- wick! Cyrus flinched and blinked. Chase had spun that damned silver-handled straight razor out of his pocket like a gunslinger in a Western. It was open and gleaming right by his nose. Cyrus held his breath. This nigga crazy, he thought, realizing all that shit had happened in less than a minute.
Chase’s face was close to his, and now he was smiling. “You grab me at your own risk, Cyrus. I think you better think twice before you do it again.”
“Let me up, Chase.” He wanted it to come out sounding like a command, but it sounded more like a squealing plea. He hated Chase for it.
Chase’s smile became a grin. “Say ‘please,’ Cyrus.”
“I’m chokin’! Please.”
Chase let him go and went to the door and opened it. “Now get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see you again until I’m ready to discuss Wolf. In the meantime, leave Corey alone.” Chase returned to his seat behind the desk. “Shut the door on your way out.”
Cyrus was in no position to talk shit or even try. He staggered his ass out of the office and to the front door.
“Look at this! Did you take a tumble down the steps, Cyrus?” J.T. asked, laughing.
Cyrus glanced over at Bliss. She was in the middle of an interview, and whatever she was saying, her mouth was a perfect circle. When she glanced over and saw Cyrus, she excused herself and rushed over to him.
“Oh my God! Are you okay, Mr. Brown?”
J.T. clapped him hard on the shoulder. “He’s great, Bliss. Continue your interview. I’ll walk him to the door.” J.T. turned Cyrus toward the door with the hand he had on his shoulder. He threw it open and gave Cyrus a shove. “I’d love to throw you out on your ass, but I’m afraid people will talk.”
Cyrus watched the door to his own club slam in his face. It was, in his opinion, completely disrespectful, and whether they knew it or not, they’d just started some shit, and regardless of what Chase thought, Cyrus wasn’t afraid of him. Your ass is gonna
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