Chasing Bliss (10 page)

They walked out of the building and into the late afternoon sunshine of the late May Saturday.
Bliss lived right near the edge of Morningside Park, not far from Columbia University. It was a
nice day, and a lot of people were outside taking advantage of it. They stopped at the ice cream
truck parked outside the park, and Chase bought Bliss a vanilla cone with rainbow sprinkles. They
found a vacant bench under a big shady oak tree and sat down.

He fell back into his posture from the previous night, facing her with his arm along the top of
the bench. Chase watched her lick her ice cream, turning the cone in her hand like a little kid; it
gave him a thrill in the pit of his stomach. She glanced at him and smiled, then gave it another lick.
One more lick, and she looked him in the eye and crossed her legs. She was so innocently sexy,
and it was killing him. “Would you like a taste?”

He put his hand on her bare knee and moved closer. “I think I’ll probably die if you don’t let
me.”

Bliss giggled and slid closer to
him
,
until she was close enough for him to kiss her on the
forehead, which he did. His breath ruffled her bangs, and they tickled his nose. Bliss surprised him
when she got up suddenly and sat in his lap. She put her arm around his neck and offered him her
cone, and Chase took the top off of it.

“Hey, you ate the best part!” Bliss protested.

Chase smiled at her. “No I didn’t…not yet,” he said, allowing his strong hand to reclaim its
proper place on her thigh.

“You are so nasty, Chase,” Bliss said and licked her ice cream.

Chase laughed. “Yeah, but you like it. Besides, I’m not as bad as you with that damned ice
cream cone. I’m dyin’ every time you put it in your mouth.”

She gave him a sexy look and licked the cone again. “What’s wrong, Chase? Wish it were
you?”

“Oh, God yes. You got a little on your lip.” He licked the small dot of ice cream off her bottom
lip.

Bliss trembled and threw the cone over her shoulder. She put her hand on the back of his head
and gave him the sweetest, most tender, kiss he’d ever gotten in his life. It was a flurry of small,
hot, little closed-mouth kisses with her lips against his, followed by the invasion of her small pink
tongue, sliding and swirling over his like she was claiming her territory. She withdrew and gave
him a peck on the lips. “I could kiss you for hours.” Bliss said breathlessly.

He smiled. “I wish you would.” When his cell phone rang, Chase saw Cyrus’s number again.
He had thought about just leaving his phone off, but he had to remain reachable in case Dee needed
him. He let his brother go to voicemail.

Bliss picked up on it and prepared to swing her legs off his lap, but Chase held her where she
was.

“Where you goin’, Bliss?”

“Are you screening your calls, Chase?”

Something about the defiant set of her jaw struck him as funny, and he laughed without meaning
to.

Bliss frowned. “You think it’s funny?”

“Yeah, baby. I do. That was Cyrus, by the way, and not some other woman, okay? Look.” He
pulled up the last received call in his phone and held it up so she could see it. “See? I told you.”

Bliss looked away but seemed mollified. “You didn’t have to show me your phone, Chase.”

“The hell I didn’t.”

She smiled. “Okay, so maybe you did. Thank you.”

He laughed. “It’s nothin’. Just tryin’ to establish a little trust.” He looked at her seriously for
a moment. “You’re the only woman I’m involved with, Bliss. No baby mamas, no girlfriends, no
drama.”

Bliss looked thoughtful. “That girl Maya likes you.”

Chase laughed. “A lot of women like me, but that don’t mean a thing.”

“No? Did you date her?”

He laughed again. “No, and I didn’t sleep with her either. I never even stepped to her.”

He trailed off, and Bliss frowned. “What?”

“I kind of need to tell you about Dee though.”

Bliss didn’t exactly develop a stink attitude, but she tried to lean away from him.

Chase went with her and wouldn’t let her go.

“So…who is Dee?”

“Her full name is Delia, Delia Montgomery, and she helps me run things. She’s not a threat,
okay?”

Bliss looked at him like he was lying to her.

“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t have to tell you about her at all. Anyway, there’s nothing
going on there—never has been and never will be. You can’t let stuff like that interfere with
business.”

Bliss looked at him hard. “Are you telling me the truth?”

Chase chuckled and rubbed her thigh. “Baby,
yes
. I volunteered the information. I told you,
you’re the only woman I’m involved with.”

She smiled at him reluctantly. “You consider yourself
involved
with me, already?”

Chase passed his lips over her jaw line and looked comically resigned. “I didn’t have much
choice, Bliss. I looked at you, and you made my stomach hurt.”

“What?” She slapped at him playfully, and he grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. She
looked somewhat appeased. “I made your stomach hurt? Damn, Chase. How romantic.”

He put his arms around her and nuzzled his face into her neck, inhaling deeply. “I can be
romantic. You smell so good, Bliss. What the hell
is
that?”

She giggled. “I’ll never tell.”

He smelled her again. “No, for real. Is that the stuff with the hormones in it? It’s driving me
crazy.”

Bliss laughed, but it was tinged with a certain degree of her knowing something he didn’t. “It’s
not the perfume, Chase.”

He stared at her, wanting nothing more than to be close to her, but being so close to her was
intoxicating.

“Chase? You okay?” Bliss asked, touching his face.

Her voice pulled him out of his daydream.

“What were you thinking about just then?” she asked, watching his eyes.

Chase looked into her eyes and ran his hand over her sexy calf. “I was imagining what it would
be like to make love to you.”

Bliss blushed hard, and Chase kissed her collarbone through her blouse. Bliss sucked in air
between her teeth. “God, Chase,” she whispered.

“Maybe we should get off this bench before we forget where we are again.”

“You know, I think that might be a good idea.” Bliss slid off him and stood up.

Chase stood, too, and took her left hand. They started walking back the way they came.

Bliss traced the scar on the back of his fingers with her own. “How did you get this scar,
Chase?”

He sighed the way he always did when someone asked him things like that. He knew she would
ask about the one under his jaw next. He didn’t want to lie to her but wasn’t sure he should tell her
the truth. His natural instinct was to lie, but he didn’t. “I got in a fight with a guy named Bobby
Price when I was fifteen. I shouldn’t have been fightin’ him in the first place, but that’s beside
the point. Anyway, back then, whenever I was sick of fightin’, I’d take the guy and put him in a
sleeper hold and put his head out. It was like signing my name on the fight, you know? I had won
the fight already, and I had his head lined up perfect to put him out, and he was goin’, too, but then
he pulled a knife out of nowhere and started slashin’ me.” He ran his finger along the scar under
his jaw before she had a chance to ask. “He got me here too…and here.” He lifted his T-shirt, still
holding her hand, and showed her a crooked little scar to the left of his navel. “He tried to stick me,
but I was a little too fast for him.”

Bliss looked up at him with huge eyes, horrified. “Oh my God, Chase! What happened? How
did you get out of it?”

“Cyrus’s boy Herc pulled him off me. It was the only fight I ever lost.” He looked over Bliss’s head and back
through time. If Herc hadn’t pulled Bobby off Chase, Bobby probably would have killed Chase’s young ass.
Cyrus owed Bobby money for some guns he’d purchased through him. When Cyrus sent Chase with the money
to pay him, Bobby claimed it was light by a half-grand. Chase reacted by stubbornly refusing to believe that
Cyrus would try to weasel out on what he owed. Being that young—and so obviously naïve—Chase had never
even bothered to count it. His trust in Cyrus was strong back then. He spat on the ground between Bobby’s feet
and called him a liar, then offered to beat his ass. Bobby was two or three years older than Cyrus, and he had no
business picking up the gauntlet from a kid like Chase, but his ego wouldn’t let him back down. When Chase got
the better of him and he felt like he was going to pass out, he just pulled his knife out and started slashing.

Herc had always had a habit of lurking around and just showing up at places he shouldn’t have been. He
appeared at the top of the alley with his big .45 in his hand. Herc was probably sent by Cyrus to keep the situation
under control, but he didn’t make a move on Bobby until Chase got that cut under his jaw. Herc probably
thought Bobby had cut Chase’s goddamned throat. It was poetic justice to Chase when he ran that razor across
Herc’s neck three years later.

“What happened to this Bobby Price? Did he go to jail for hurting you like that?”

Chase looked down at her. He wanted to tell her,
“No, baby. He went to the fuckin’ cemetery for
movin’ on me like that,”
but this time, he decided to avoid the truth. “It would be a good thing if
everybody paid what they owed, I guess.” He briefly wondered what his running tab was and how
much it would eventually cost him. He hoped like hell it wouldn’t cost him Bliss Riley.

Chapter 7

C
yrus didn’t catch up with Chase’s elusive ass until the following Friday. He was well past
just being mad at him for giving him the slip; now he was taking it personally.
Who the fuck
does that nigga think he is, making me kiss his black ass?
Cyrus had just left Khalid, and he was lean
ing on him hard about getting rid of Wolf. Cyrus told Khalid he couldn’t find Chase—and hell,
he
couldn’t—
but Khalid had given him the impression that he didn’t think Cyrus was trying hard
enough.

He’d looked for his brother’s slippery, disloyal ass everywhere. The nigga refused to answer his
voicemail. That bitch Dee had her claws out covering for him. J.T. stonewalled him in his snide and
obnoxious way. Corey was lying right to his face and getting gone before he could put the screws
to him. He decided he’d fix Corey’s punk ass later. Cyrus had even gone to Chase’s apartment and
come up empty.
All this shit is ending today.
Chase probably thought Cyrus was too lackadaisical to
show up at his own club to check on the progress, but Cyrus figured it might be the one place he’d
be able to snag that fucking defector.

Cyrus pulled his Infiniti up in front of the club with a smile and parked right behind Corey’s
Lexus, which was parked right behind Chase’s Porsche; for once, he wasn’t on his bike. Cyrus got
out of his car and cracked his knuckles, smiling grimly. He’d caught both of his little pissy brothers
together, most likely putting up a united front against him in his own goddamned club.
They must
have forgotten who’s in charge,
he thought and felt like taking off his belt to remind them. Cyrus
pushed on the door, but it was locked. He closed his fist and was about to pound on it, but then he
remembered it this was
his
club. He reached into his pocket and brought out his keys.

Cyrus walked into his still-nameless club, and despite the fact that he was extremely annoyed
with Chase, he was very pleased at what he saw. He may have been avoiding Cyrus, but he’d been
handling his business. Even though the place wasn’t finished, he could tell it was in the process of
being totally redone. He nodded in approval as he checked out the workers who were bolting the
bar into the floor and installing the recessed lighting. The décor was a little dark, but it worked:
black, gray, and plum. It was going to look fantastic when it was done.

“I thought I smelled brimstone.”

Cyrus turned to find J.T. standing just behind him with a blueprint in one hand and a Red
Bull in the other. J.T. had always been a bit of a mystery to Cyrus. He was damn near a genius of
an architectural engineer, with his own flourishing company, but he had a serious dark side that
never quite let him actually live in the light that could have been shining down upon his brilliant
ass. Sure, he kept up appearances and handled the corporate thing quite well, but nothing seemed
to give him more glee than to ride shotgun with Chase and watch a nigga get his throat opened
up. Lately, though, it seemed J.T. had become the biggest advocate he knew for Chase keeping
his hands clean. His theory was that they’d lived the wild style long enough, and he swore a man
shouldn’t—and couldn’t—keep rolling the dice like that and that sooner or later, you’d crap out.
Cyrus didn’t give a fuck what J.T. thought though. Nobody asked his ass for his opinion. As far
as Cyrus was concerned, J.T. needed to be quiet and stay the fuck out of family business. “Ha, ha.
Very funny, motherfucker,” Cyrus said, looking him over. “Where are my two asshole brothers?”

J.T. laughed, drank some of his Red Bull, and tapped the blueprint against his leg. He smiled
at Cyrus pleasantly. “Maybe if they were both holding a wedge of cheese, you could sniff them
out.”

Cyrus narrowed his eyes at him. “You callin’ me a fuckin’ rat, J.T.?”

J.T. looked at him like he was one of God’s lesser creatures. “If the shoe fits…”

Cyrus didn’t really feel like fucking with J.T. Sometimes he made him feel like he thought he
was stupid. He probably
did
think he was stupid. Cyrus looked at him caustically. It was one nigga
he wouldn’t mind killing himself. “So where they at, man?”

J.T. laughed. “You ain’t blind. You saw their cars. They gotta be in here somewhere, right? It’s
your
club…so go find ‘em.”

“Get back to work, J.T.”

“I don’t work for you, Cyrus,” he sang, a little like a fuck-you song. He looked at Cyrus like he
wasn’t afraid of him and walked away.

Cyrus watched him go.
One of these days, I’ma take care of that rude, disrespectful bastard.
Cyrus
followed J.T. just in case he tried to give Chase and Corey a heads-up that he was here. He had
gone into a large room that was to become a bathroom, and he was at a counter looking over
blueprints with a white guy in a hard hat.

J.T. looked up when Cyrus’s shadow fell across the doorway. “They’re not in here. This is the
crapper.”

Cyrus’s urge to jack him in the jaw had never been stronger. He turned and went back into the
biggest room and crossed it. There was an alcove on one side and a door on the other. Cyrus opened
it and stepped into a large sitting room. He smiled when he heard Chase’s voice coming out of the
room to his left.

“Corey, I need you to go see what the hold-up is with the liquor license, the sooner the better.
Bliss, we got a bunch of applications here. We gotta start weeding through them and hiring staff.”

Cyrus walked into the room, and Chase looked up. He didn’t look surprised or even deflated.
Instead, he looked like he’d been expecting him. He stood up behind the desk. “Hey, Cyrus. What’s
good?”

Cyrus moved further into the room. “You tell me. Where the hell you been hidin’, Smoke?”

Chase laughed and shrugged, then walked around the desk. “I ain’t been nowhere but right here,
Cyrus. It’s been busy, and time got away from me.”

Chase’s nonchalance was pissing him off. Cyrus walked up on him and stared him down. “You
been playin’ games, Smoke, and I need to talk to you.”

Chase smiled at him engagingly. “Yeah, I know. It can wait.”

The smile Chase wore didn’t exactly touch his eyes. He knew why Cyrus was there all right,
and he was fucking with him.

Cyrus smiled himself and shook his head. “I say it
can’t
wait. I’ve been waitin’ a whole fuckin’
week to speak to you, and I’m not lettin’ you put me off anymore. We’ll talk
now
.”

Chase leaned on the desk and folded his arms across his chest. The smile had slid off his face.
“No, Cyrus. We’ll talk when
I’m
good and damn ready. It’ll keep until then. In the meantime,
don’t be rude and act like we’re the only two people in this room. This is your new manager, Bliss
Riley.”

The girl in the chair stood and smiled at Cyrus. She was so pretty that she looked like a doll. She
offered her hand and he took it, temporarily thrown off his A game as he looked her over. She was
wearing a pale pink silk dress that hugged her body in all the right places and high-heeled pumps
that were the exact color of the dress. She had a string of pearls around her neck, and her hair was
caught up in an intricate twist at the nape of her neck, with her bangs softly framing her face. She
was beautiful, and Cyrus was instantly very impressed. She looked very classy and a bit retro.

“Hello, Mr. Brown. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

He smiled back. “The pleasure is mine,” he said, and he meant it. “If you’re as qualified as you are beautiful,
my club will be a success.”

Chase stood up. “She is. I’d show you her credentials, but I fucked ‘em up, so you gotta trust my
judgment.” Chase eyed Cyrus with a smirk on his face.
If I had my gun, I’d shoot this nigga right now.

Bliss looked from one to the other, then picked up a folder from the corner of the desk. “It’s
about time for the first interview. I’ll be out front.” She left the room in a hurry, closing the door
softly behind her.

Cyrus smiled at Chase. “That’s a nice touch, Smoke. She’s fine as hell.”

Chase didn’t smile back. “I know that. Now, what the fuck do you want with me, Cyrus? Spit it
out. You’ve been haunting me like a fuckin’ ghost.”

Corey had been standing by the window staring at his feet the whole time. “Chase, please man.
Don’t start Cyrus up.”

“Don’t start
him
up? He started with me first, fucking stalking me when I’ve been working my
ass off to get
his
club in order. Tell me what you want, Cyrus.”

Cyrus ignored Chase and looked at Corey. “And where the fuck you been? I couldn’t find your
simple ass either.”

Corey looked at both of them. “I was around—just tryin’ to keep the peace.”

Chase laughed bitterly. “Well, you kept it as long as you could, Corey. Now,
fuck
the peace. I
said tell me what you want, Cyrus.”

Cyrus sat in the seat Bliss had vacated. “All right. Since you don’t seem like you’re in a social
mood, I got a little problem with Warren Jenkins.”

Chase frowned. “Wolf?”

“Yeah, Wolf. I didn’t know you knew him like that.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t know everything. What kind of beef you got with Wolf?”

“I told him to move his shit over, and he declined.”

Chase grunted like he didn’t believe him. “That’s your problem with him? He didn’t jump when
you said so? You gotta present your case a lot stronger than that.”

“Look, Smoke, this guy is tryina creep in where I do my business. I told him to fall back, and
he didn’t. Now he’s tryin’ to intimidate some of my people, and I’m losin’ customers. I need him
removed from the picture.”

Chase gave him a skeptical look. “That’s not enough. What else did he do?”

Cyrus stared at Chase. He knew not to embellish his story too much because Chase still had his
ear to the ground enough to separate fact from fiction. He shifted in his seat. “Look, Chase—” he
started and was surprised when Chase cut him off.

“No, you look, Cyrus. It’s bad enough you come in here wanting what you want, but you got
the nerve to sit there and lie to me about it. What? You think I’m stupid? Did you think I wouldn’t
throw a few questions out there when you started lookin’ for me so hard? I want you to tell me
the whole story, Cyrus, and don’t leave out the part about you and Khalid goin’ back into business
together. How long has that shit been goin’ on? Who’s been greased because Khalid said so?”