Brooklyn Bombshells: Part 2

“Yeah, I’m good. I just wanted to clear some things up,” he replied, masking the hurt and disappointment he was feeling.

“Good. Because I don’t want any trouble with us or Mateo. I love you, but I love Mateo so much more. If you understand what I’m saying.”

“I do, Chanel. I’m with Mecca and you’re with Mateo. Let’s keep things simple like that.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

Before she left, she gave him a kiss on his cheek.

Pyro was heartbroken. He had to pull himself together.

***

Mateo had made a full recovery, and he had Chanel and Pyro to thank for that, the two people he loved the most. Pyro had paid for everything and taken good care of his fiancée. From what Pyro had told him, he had murdered Fingers in cold blood for him too.

Mateo was escorted out of the rehabilitation facility in a wheelchair, but outside, he was able to walk to the Range Rover without any difficulty. Chanel was proud of him. She hugged him lovingly and they kissed for what seemed like forever. Her arms stayed around him like it would kill her to let him go. Today, they would finally be moving into the condo he had bought for them.

He was looking good and he was feeling good. His barber came to the rehabilitation center earlier and gave Mateo a fresh haircut with the Patriots logo. His favorite team. The team logo also showcased where the bullet went in. His hair wouldn’t be able to grow back in that spot.

Along with his haircut, Mateo had new clothes and shoes. Pyro had called him and said, “Yo, I can’t have my bro leaving that place looking like a bum. Nigga, you gonna be fresh out the door.”

Mateo was grateful.

Chanel continued to shower him with kisses from the time he left the center, to the SUV, and even while she was driving. She would come to a stop at a red light and she couldn’t help herself. She would lean toward him and kiss him at random moments. Her eyes were bright and smiling.

“I missed you,” she said.

“I missed you too.”

She held his hand and continued to drive to the address Mateo had given her. It was hard for her to focus on the road because all she wanted to do was stare at him. He looked so cute with his fresh haircut and new clothes. He was talkative and joyful. Her man had even gained some of his weight back since the shooting.

“I promise you, baby, I’m gonna get back on my feet again.”

“I know you are.”

“I owe you and Pyro a lot—too much—and it’s time to get back out here and repay what I owe.”

“Baby, you don’t owe me anything.”

“Yeah, I do. If it wasn’t for y’all, I wouldn’t be here today,” he said.

“We did it because we love you.”

“I know.”

They soon arrived at a fancy glass high-rise in the Bronx.

Chanel’s eyes scanned the area. “What’s this?”

“This is ours. I bought this condo for us to live in after we were married. I hope you like it.”

“You had this for us all along? You’re so sneaky and I love it!” she squealed.

Mateo grinned. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

The condo was in an area away from everything—from a harsh past to a new beginning and a bright future. They were starting over, and Chanel didn’t want to look back. Excited, she and Mateo approached the front door hand-in-hand with the condo keys.

They walked into a fully furnished, three-bedroom condominium apartment with two and a half baths and a small laundry room. The décor with the leather furniture, the artwork, the television mounted on the wall, the parquet flooring with the sprawling area rug, it all blew Chanel away. Her man was everything.