20. Kiana

20

KIANA

When you're a celebrity, people notice when you go missing. Within a few hours of arriving at Tyson's place, my phone exploded with missed calls, texts, and recorded voice messages demanding my whereabouts. Everyone from Amari to Tai, my makeup artist, is panicked and worried about me. Tommy and the label are most aggressive, going so far as to fill up my email inbox on top of all the other ways they're spamming my phone.

"Kiana, I swear, you better call me back in five minutes!" Tommy rages over one of the recordings. "I'm not playing this game with you—you think it's funny to disappear like this? This the thanks I get for giving you an extra two days after all you've already pulled? Call me back right now!"

I press delete on the latest voice message he's left me as more notifications pop up on my phone.

These are from social media. From Google alerts, notifying me that a dozen new articles have been written about me in the media.

Sensationalistic headlines are used like, "R&B Diva Kiana Reportedly Missing After NYC Car Crash" and "Songstress Kiana Hit & Run? Why Has the Superstar Vanished without a Trace?"

Unsurprisingly, Messy Mandy has the latest scoop on her blog—a candid photograph submitted from an anonymous source of me at JFK airport, boarding a plane. It was taken during the two minutes I'd taken off my sunglasses and hat passing through security checkpoints.

"Our girl Kiana is going THRU IT!!!" the blog post reads, capitalized letters and all.

I sigh and quickly close out of the internet browser on my phone.

Tyson comes up from behind, his wide palms sliding over the ball of my shoulders. "Princess, let the world talk. Remember we're in our own world right now. Me and you."

"That's easy to say… until you listen to these voice messages from Tommy."

"Say the word and I'll break his jaw. No more voice messages… or talking at all."

Tyson's kidding.

But also, he's not.

I aim a small smile up at him from over my shoulder, appreciating the dark humor at a time like this. I've long stopped thinking of Tommy and the label as supportive entities in my corner. That couldn't be further from the truth.

They're out to destroy me as a human being. They won't be happy 'til I'm completely under their control. Some robot with no agency.

"Take my mind off it," I whisper, closing my eyes. "Please… just… let's talk about anything other than that."

"Easy, princess. You owe me a movie marathon. My picks this time."

I laugh at that suggestion alone. "You haven't forgotten, have you?"

"How could I? You made me sit through How to Put a Guy to Sleep in 10 Minutes . Except I had to stay awake."

"That's not the name of the movie and you know it! And you enjoyed it more than you're letting on!"

He scoffs, folding thick arms across his chest in denial.

"You did! You think I didn't notice your attention glued to the screen? Or how about when we watched Think Like A Man ? Face it, Goliath, you love chick flicks!"

I'm ripped off my feet as he scoops me up like I weigh nothing. To a man as large and burly as Tyson, I basically do. Nicknamed Bison for a reason, he demonstrates his strength as he lifts me up in his arms, and I scream in laughter.

The way he carries me across the ground floor of his home and then flings me to the sofa is an immediate turn on. I land on the cushions with barely enough time to take a breath before he's climbing over me and pressing his lips to mine.

His kiss is warm and eager, making my insides flutter in the most pleasant way.

I rake fingers across his coarse beard and let our kisses speak for us.

It's how we express ourselves, confirming the bond we've found in each other.

Tyson's hands explore, sliding under the hem of the t-shirt I'm wearing and skimming my bare skin. I shudder into him as we switch up the angle of our kiss and make a game of our tongues teasing each other.

His breathing becomes a ragged sound that makes my pussy wet. It's the sound of a man as large and muscular as he is gradually losing control.

All from my kisses. From the feel of my bare skin.

… until he accidentally grips the bruise I have on my left knee and I wince at the aching pain.

He pulls away at once, his gaze falling to the injury area. His jaw pulls tight, as if it's a challenge holding in the sudden spike of anger.

"It's alright," I murmur, reaching for him again. "I forgot I'm a little banged up from the crash. Kiss me."

"Princess, it's not alright. Nothing about the situation is alright," he says tensely. "First chance I get, I'm going to make heads roll. But I said I'd take your mind off what's going on, and I'm going to do that."

He makes good on my request for a kiss and leans forward to press his lips to my brow.

"Movie time."

I'm left on the sofa as Tyson gets us situated—he dims the lights, commands his smart blinds to close, and turns on the TV to bring up a streaming app. Just when I think he's about to park beside me on the sofa, he disappears from the room. He returns clutching items that feel like the best kind of gift after the past few days I've had.

I smile as he lays the cozy throw blanket over my lap and then sets down an armful of snacks he's gathered from the pantry.

"Wow, I can't remember the last time I had potato chips."

"Figured." He crashes down beside me on the sofa, his arm stretching along the back.

I find myself hugging the large bag of potato chips and snuggling closer into his side, the blanket strewn across my lap. I draw the rest of it over his, earning a subtle tic of his lips.

The opening credits of the movie begin and I laugh.

" Deadpool , really?"

"You're lucky I went easy on you. I could've made you really suffer and had you sit through some macho '80s action flick."

"Just wait 'til I make you watch Eat, Pray, Love ."

"Do that, princess, and you might be the one who's eaten."

"With that tongue game of yours? No complaints," I giggle.

We become engrossed in the movie as it plays on Tyson's large TV screen. I can't help reveling in how cozy and normal the moment feels. We really are away from the outside world and enjoying each other's company.

I'm not some famous superstar anymore. Tyson's no longer some brooding enforcer with fists he uses for violent purposes.

We're a man and a woman who care about each other and are spending a private night together.

I never had these moments with Shawn. Even when we were alone, it always felt like some kind of production—he was hopping on and off live streams with his pals and his fans or we were posing for curated content to share on our socials.

Everything felt so rehearsed. Some kind of reality TV show that had become my life.

At the time, it seemed normal. I knew of no other existence as a woman than what I'd experienced with Shawn.

But with Tyson, it's so easy. So comfortable and natural.

He begins caressing my sore spots, using his skillful hands to soothe my aches and pains. Soon I'm lying in his lap as he absentmindedly strokes my hips and thighs. I shift my attention from the movie, looking up at him sideways due to my sprawled out position.

"You've done more for me in a couple weeks than Shawn did in years."

"We've established Shawn's a shitty person, princess."

"And you. You're better than you give yourself credit for. You pretend you're such a hard ass."

"I am a hard ass."

"Maybe. But there's more to you," I say, stretching my arm up 'til I can caress his bearded jaw. "You just don't want other people to know."

"They don't need to."

I sit up, still planted in his lap. We're so close, our faces are almost touching, our gazes locked. "I can only imagine how much it hurt to lose your brother. But you don't have to deal with it alone. I'm here. I don't care what Tommy or the label say. I won't let them cut off contact between us again."

"Easier said than done, princess. Dealing with it, I mean. I haven't even cleared his room."

"His room? You mean he… lived here?"

Tyson's face darkens. Then he nods. "Some of our family members have requested I send them a few of his things. In remembrance."

"But you can't go into his room."

"I was too busy working. If I'd been around…"

"It's not your fault," I whisper, leaning closer. Our brows press together as we let my statement hang in the air.

The truth that Tyson must accept if he's ever to heal.

Jax's death wasn't his fault. It was a terrible tragedy, but he can't go on blaming himself…

"I'll help you," I say. "I'll go with you to his room. C'mon."

Grabbing the remote, I pause the movie and slide out of Tyson's lap. I hold out my hand for him to take. He takes a second before he accepts, folding my hand within his. He gets up off the couch, and together we head upstairs to his brother's old bedroom.

I lead us inside, flicking on the light and taking in the space. Dust has collected on the furniture and the air in the room feels dry and stuffy. It's no wonder if it's been almost a year since Tyson's set foot inside here.

"Should we grab a box to choose some of his things?"

"Yeah… alright. We can make one for our mother and aunt."

We work mostly in silence. We set two boxes in the middle of the room and Tyson carefully selects what items to pack inside. I tape up the boxes and jot down the addresses he's given for his mother and aunt.

Every so often, I glance up and notice Tyson peering at an item as if lost in the past. Mourning his brother. Cherishing an old memory.

I stand up from where I've been sitting on the floor and wrap my arms around his waist. My head rests against his broad back as I hope the embrace helps in some way.

"Have you ever thought about…" I say slowly, "keeping some of his favorite things for yourself? And maybe the rest…"

"Pack it up. Donate," he says as if it's already a thought on his mind. He sighs. "I was supposed to do that months ago. Just haven't been able to bring myself to."

"We can do it together. An extra pair of hands helps."

"Princess, this isn't your concern?—"

"Damn if it isn't. Tyson, you've spent weeks keeping me safe and alive. Literally. Let me repay the favor. Let me help with this. It's important and I want to."

"Alright. Might be better than going at it alone. When I finally got around to it."

"Tell me more about him. I'd like to hear more if you want to share."

I mean it. I stroke Tyson's back in comfort and listen patiently as he grants my wish. He collects more empty boxes from a hall closet, and as we set to packing up more things, he begins telling me about his younger brother.

Childhood stories. Funny moments that still make him laugh. Accomplishments his brother achieved in his short twenty-one years of life.

"It was unexpected," Tyson says of his brother's passing. His expression is heavy and riddled with unmistakable grief. "He was young. Healthy. He felt invincible. But he wanted to follow in my footsteps and… and he enlisted in the Marines. I was so proud. Remember his graduation from basic training like it was yesterday.

"He was still in training when it happened. A buddy of his had been stranded one night on the side of the road. Jax being Jax, he went out to help him. Some piece of shit drunk driver clipped both of them. They… he… didn't survive."

I go to him, sliding my arms around his wide, muscled form in an embrace. "I'm so sorry, Tyson… I can't even begin to imagine…"

"I should've been around. Maybe I could've gone out with him that night to help his buddy," he says with a hard swallow. "But I was too busy away on a job. I received the call at three in the morning."

"You couldn't have done anything. It was out of your control. Sometimes…" I sigh, hugging him as tightly as I can. "Sometimes terrible people do terrible things to good people like you and Jax."

He squeezes me back out of appreciation. "Thanks, princess. That means a lot coming from you. You know you're the first person I've told about it? Other than family. The funny thing is, pretty sure if Jax met you… he'd approve."

He goes on to tell me about how Jax was considered the ‘cool' brother by many who knew them while he was the grumpy loner. He laughs recalling how everyone liked his brother better than him, like he misses him so much, he'd give anything to hear it again.

My heart feels full taking it in. Learning more about the man who I've slowly begun to fall for and the family that means so much to him.

The hour's nearing midnight by the time we're done. We tape up the last box and I reach for Tyson's hand, feeling closer to him than I ever did Shawn.

He peers down at me, his dark eyes lit with affection. "Thanks, princess. You didn't have to."

I squeeze his hand and lean against his solid frame. "Yes, I did."