The Return of the Carter Boys

by Desirée

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

Sex, love, drugs and music are just a few of the Carter boys' daily dealings. Drama follows them everywhere, especially being the largest, most dangerous organization Atlanta has ever seen. The women who want to be with them and the men who want to be just like them can easily get lost in the shuffle when the target is constantly moving to a new Carter's back.

Stepping outside of his relationship with his current woman seems impossible to Trent, but that all changes when the girl who had a childhood crush on him comes back into the picture looking totally different than he remembered. How does the smooth, smart, and prettiest of the Carter boys deal with this, especially now that he finally has Jade in his life?

Still not quite understanding his quiet and dark demeanor, Noelle can't help the attraction she feels for her mysterious neighbor, Shiloh Carter. Could it be the romantic and affectionate side he shows her when no one else is around? Or is the mystery surrounding this man really a major turn on for her? Everything between the two neighbors is great until she gets a front row seat to a side of Shiloh that she never saw coming. Will Noelle stick around, or will she pack her things and move far away from Atlanta when she realizes that Shiloh is more dangerous than she thought?

Release date: June 5, 2018

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 384

Sample

“This is my jam!” My coworker Layla called out, raising her cup in the air as we moved through the packed crowd at the Gold Lounge. It was so much going on this weekend with the Classic and after parties that I’d had enough for one day. We’d been here for over an hour, and so far I’d been hit on by the creepiest men, or the sheisty-looking guys who probably approached every girl. It had been a rough week for me, my first week in Atlanta, so I thought a little night out would help me get over that. Now that I was here, smoke filled the air, drinks spilled on the floor, girls were wearing God knows what, men felt the need to touch up on me, and I’d had about enough.

Finding a decent spot to hang back at, we stood by ourselves as we enjoyed the music. I looked down at my two-piece ensemble: royal blue skirt with the matching cropped long-sleeve top, hair with a slight curl to it, with my side bang on point.

“We gotta do this again next weekend!” Layla called out as I rolled my eyes with a smile.

“This might be my last!” I responded over the music just as a dark-skinned guy with a box cut walked over to me, looking like he had stepped out of an ’80s music video. He looked me up and down in a dramatic fashion with a hand on his chin, smiling.

“Aye! You look even better up close with yo’ sexy dark-skin ass!” he let out, chomping on gum. “What’s yo’ name, shawty?”

“Nigga, take yo’ whack ass somewhere else!” Layla laughed with her head thrown back. “I can’t believe you even approached her with that line.”

“Wasn’t nobody talking to yo’ short, dumpling-looking ass!” he snapped as my eyes grew wide, looking from him to Layla. “My name is Ronny. What’s yours, chocolate?”

“Apologize to her and maybe you’ll find out,” was all I said before moving farther down in disgust. I couldn’t believe the nerve of some of these men here. I continued to move to the beat of the music, seeing Ronny and Layla going at it with her short self, finger all in his face as she rolled her neck.

“Damn, you sexy as fuck, guhl. What’s yo’ name?” a guy said, coming up behind me as he eyed my backside. He had a gold tooth in the front, braids going back—need I say more? “You look like one of them model bitches. You a model?”

“Girl!” Layla let out as she moved past the man, hand soaked. “I had to throw my drink in that nigga’s face. He is too crazy.”

“Are you serious?” I laughed, seeing the guy who tried to talk to me walk off. Layla was pure craziness, and I was sure he wanted no part of it. She moved her weave back off her shoulder as she continued to bounce to the music, occasionally twerking on me, trying to make me laugh.

“It’s too many fine niggas in here to be getting hit on by the rejects,” she let out, sipping through her straw. “Speaking of fine,” she said, eyes zooming in on someone in particular. “This nigga has been staring you down the entire time.”

“Who?” I asked, feeling my body tense as I looked around, but she grabbed my arm.

“Don’t look, bitch. Just let me describe him before you freak him out.” She laughed. “Tall, light skin, with some sexy-ass lips. Nigga looks like he could kill someone just by glancing at him. Definitely a trill nigga,” she said as my mind immediately went to Shiloh.

I casually turned my head in her direction, and sure enough, it was him standing with a group of guys and a few girls, eyes on me. We locked eyes for a brief second as he tilted his head up toward me. I just smiled and did a small wave before looking back down at Layla, who was cheesing.

“Who is that?”

“That’s my neighbor, the one I was telling you about,” I said as I glanced back at him, seeing he hadn’t taken his eyes off me. I hadn’t spoken to him since the night I stayed at his house, but I was forever grateful. Still hesitant around him, but nonetheless grateful.

“Girl, he is fine as hell,” she let out with a smack of her teeth. “And the niggas he’s with look good too. Shit, tell him to come here.”

“I’m not going to—”

“Fuck it,” I said.

She started waving them over as my mouth dropped. I felt myself trying to hide within the people around us as she continued to frantically wave to him and his friends.

“Oh my God, Layla, what is wrong with you?” I laughed, turning around so that my back was turned.

“You already slept in this nigga’s bed. Why are you so shy all of a sudden?” She laughed.

“Because we—”

“Shit! He’s coming too!” She laughed as I dropped my head in embarrassment.

“What am I supposed to say? He doesn’t talk to me when I’m home, barely talks at all. What am—”

“Heeey!” Layla greeted.

I turned, seeing Shiloh, and another guy walk over with his eyes on Layla. Shiloh said something to the guy before slapping hands with him.

“What up, li’l sexy?” the guy said to Layla, putting his arm around her neck as he walked her off.

Shiloh had deliberately told this man to occupy my friend. He stood next to me, acting shy and on mute. Looking him over in a brief second, I kept my smile hidden. Shiloh cleaned up well and smelled really good, considering we were in a club. He wore a red long-sleeve shirt that looked amazing against his light complexion, diamond stud in each ear, dark blue jeans with black high-top Gucci sneakers, fancy all-black watch, with his curly hair low and neat. His low-lid eyes had a red tint as he licked his lips.

“Hi,” I greeted, sticking my hand out for him to shake.

He just stared down at me, licking his lips, expression stone-cold mean. Clearing my throat, I thought of a way to break the awkward ice. “You enjoying yourself?”

“It’s straight,” Shiloh said in a deep voice. His eyes scanned the crowd like he was the protector of the club. “I just came through to support my brothers.”

“That’s nice.” I smiled, looking at the group of guys he’d left behind. “Are those your brothers?”

“Nah,” he said, looking back before pointing to the stage, where the Carter Boys were performing. I liked a few of their . . . Hold up.

“You’re related to them?” I asked, shocked, remembering his last name was Carter. He nodded. “So, why you not up there singing and rapping?”

“Nah, not for me,” he said with a small smile.

I could have seen pigs fly at that moment. I couldn’t believe this man had just smiled at me. I tuned back into the song, bobbing my head just as Shiloh leaned in close to me, mouth against my ear.

“You probably the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”

My mouth dropped as he leaned back to see my expression, slow smile creeping on my face. I mouthed a thank you just as he leaned back in, a gentle hand on my lower back.

“Do you mind if I stay by your side for the rest of the night?”

My heart started to thump as I shook my head no. I knew it took all of him just to get those two sentences out, but for some reason, they meant the world to me. To hear him say it was completely different than to hear some random guy tell it to me.

“You got a ride to the crib?” he asked as he stood close to me, sipping on his drink.

“My friend is my ride. I left the car at home,” I said, looking at him as he nodded. I watched his eyes watch everyone else. Girls had their eyes focused hard on Shiloh, who barely seemed to notice. Occasionally, they stepped up to him with the intention of talking, but he showed no interest.

Almost no guys walked up to me, though. Not even a glance. There was one brave soul who decided to try his luck as he walked up to me with his friends laughing behind him. I could see Shiloh, out of the corner of my eye, going completely still in mid-drink as he eyed the man approaching over the rim of his cup. Dude was tall, brown-skinned, with a little weight to him, wearing Lord knows what. It looked like borderline women’s clothes with his jeans cut off and folded at the knees.

I didn’t realize I had moved closer to Shiloh until I felt his body lightly bump mine. He kept his eyes hard on the guy, almost like he dared him to overstep.

“Aye, my homeboys and I were just looking at you, and no disrespect to you, bruh, but she is the sexiest dark-skin chick I’ve ever seen,” the guy said, licking his lips hard at me. “I just wanted to get a closer look at yo’ fine ass to make sure you were real.”

“I’m real,” I answered uneasily as Shiloh stepped up, putting his body slightly in front of mine. He didn’t say anything, but it seemed like the guy understood as he held his hands up in surrender.

“You got it, bruh. I was just complimenting her,” he said, backing up before turning to his friends.

Shiloh glanced at me as I put my hands on my hips, attitude lit.

“So, you’re just going to claim me like that? No words, nothing? You barely speak when I do see you, but now all of a sudden it’s no other man can talk to me now?” I pressed as he took a sip of his drink, giving me a side glance before nodding his head to the music. Unbelievable. He was just as crazy as the rest of the guys that approached me. I straightened up as I started looking for my friend. I was ready to go. He had just killed any moment, any vibe I might have been feeling for the night.

Gripping my clutch underneath my arm, I looked back at him, seeing his eyes were slowly scanning my body like it was a work of art before landing on my face.

“What, Shiloh?” I pressed, throwing my hand up in exasperation. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I didn’t understand why the man was so quiet. Before he could say anything, a guy rushed over to us, muttering something in Shiloh’s ear.

“Where he at?” Shiloh asked, putting his drink down as they both turned and walked off.

Just like that, I was alone again. Great. I started walking toward the exit as the lights popped back on, music cutting off. I could hear a loud commotion with the crowd, and I looked back, seeing two guys looking like they were about to get into a fight. Whatever. I stepped outside, realizing I needed Layla to get home, but I had no idea where she was. Walking to where the car was parked, I realized another car had taken its place. No, this bitch didn’t just leave me here. I quickly called her on my phone, but it went straight to voicemail.

“You cannot be fucking serious right now,” I mumbled as I looked back at the club, seeing a few people walk out.

“Shit, I ain’t fucking with that gun shit, nigga,” I heard someone say as they rushed to their cars.

“Nigga was about to straight catch one. We would have all been sprayed, bruh.”

“I can’t believe black people act like they too hood to have a good time. Shit is so damn pointless! Stop the violence!” another girl ranted as she walked out with her friends.

I could hear the music cut back on, with the DJ talking on the mic. Fuck it. I attempted to call Layla again to see where she was, but I got no answer. Ugh! I walked back inside, moving through the thick crowd that was going in the opposite direction as I made my way back to the main floor.

“Aye,” I heard a voice say, feeling a hand come to my lower back as I turned around. Shiloh stood there with a jacket on, keys in hand. “You ready?”

“Where did you tell your little friend to take my friend?” I pressed, arms crossing over my chest.

“I didn’t tell that nigga shit. You ready?” he repeated, eyes cold, voice colder as he stared at me with no expression. I sighed as I followed him out of the club with at least fifteen-something people following behind him, moving only when he moved.

When I slipped inside his black Mustang, I felt myself about ready to explode. This guy had some nerve. Made my friend go away, wouldn’t allow another guy to approach me, and yet he could barely open his mouth to me. What the hell? It didn’t make sense. As soon as he pulled off, turning the music down, I crossed my legs in a cute manner, facing him, and let him have it.

“You have some damn nerve, Shiloh!” I snapped. His eyes grew wide, glancing at me before focusing back on the street. “We barely know each other, and you’re acting like I’m your property. I never had a man treat me the way you’re treating me now. When I was younger, my daddy always told me to be with a man that treats me as well, if not better, than he did. You have yet to show me any manners,” I snapped. “You barely speak, you’re always mean, not to mention you pointed a fucking gun to my head when all I was asking for was help. I mean . . .” I hesitated, thinking back. “Granted, you did take me in and made me two simple-ass sandwiches, but the way you’re acting toward me is sooo cold, so mean, that I really don’t know what to say to you.” I waited for him to say something, anything. He just glanced at me with those low-set eyes, smirking to himself. “Are you serious right now? Like, serious? You think how I feel is funny?”

“I’m not yo’ daddy, nor am I trying to be like that nigga, shawty,” he said in a deep Southern-laced voice. “Just because I don’t fucking speak and run my mouth like these bitch niggas you probably used to dealing with don’t mean I don’t know how to fucking conduct myself. Never pay attention to a man’s words, shawty. I’m a man of action; words don’t mean shit to me. All this talking you doing don’t mean shit to me. If I want to make you my woman, I’m going to show you. I’m not going to tell you. If I want to fuck you, I’m going to show you. You understand where—”

“I give no fucks where you’re coming from,” I said, feeling my gritty nature come out. I really hated showing this side of myself. “I deserve respect because I have been nothing but nice to you. You have yet to show me respect since—fuck it,” I snapped, throwing my hands up, seeing he was texting on his phone. He wasn’t even paying attention to what I was saying.

We rode in silence for the next fifteen minutes until we pulled up to my house. I could feel myself about to start up all over again after having come up with different points to be made. “Don’t even understand how you have friends,” I mumbled, opening the door.

“I don’t,” he replied. “Don’t need ’em.”

“That wasn’t a question for you to answer. Now you want to talk, but only when it’s on some tit for tat shit. Get the fuck outta here,” I snapped, slamming the door. “You are so rude and fucking inconsiderate!” I yelled through the window.

He got out of the car, closing the door behind him.

“You don’t have to walk me to my door. I know how to get there just fine.” I turned around, fumbling with my keys as my heels clicked against the dirty driveway with force. “Can’t believe you act like I’m your fucking property because I spent one night in your cold-ass bed. It doesn’t work like that, Shiloh,” I snapped, before mumbling to myself again as I walked up the small steps to my porch. “If you like someone, you tell them and show them. Don’t just force it on them like—” I looked back, seeing he was walking up the steps, hands in both pockets, smirking to himself, which only pissed me off further. “What the fuck is so funny?”

“You.” He laughed outright. “You doing all this arguing and screaming for what? You tiring yourself out by doing that shit, like a puppy with a tiny bark.”

“Do you even know how to talk to women?” I asked snidely, hands on my hips.

He stepped up to the porch, standing in front of me as he looked down, while I looked up into his expressionless face.

“You have got to be the weirdest man I ever met. Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t have friends, because you—”

He leaned down, and without further warning, kissed me on the lips. I let out a small gasp of shock against his mouth before closing my eyes, feeling his lips press against mine. I felt my keys drop as my hands came to his sides, moving closer to him as he deepened the kiss. Everything in my body was saying Yes! Oh Lord, yes.

I felt his hand slip out of his pocket and slink around my waist, pulling me even closer. When he pulled back, our eyes locked.

“Can I take you out to lunch tomorrow?” he asked, face stone cold, yet the voice told me something different.

“Okay,” I mumbled unintelligibly.

“We are supposed to be out enjoying ourselves, looking for niggas. Instead, you got me sitting up here with yo’ crying ass, looking at these sad-ass movies,” Niya started, and I laughed, wiping my face.

It was three, maybe four in the morning on Sunday. I should have been out looking for new dick, but Ontrell ran through my mind like . . . I’ve been sad all damn day and night. He cheated on me and then finally came out and said he was going to continue to cheat on me. Niggas ain’t shit; I swear they not. Love ain’t shit either, because no matter how wrong he did me, I still loved him. Was I wrong? Was I crazy? So, I sat up in my apartment with my two main bitches—Tiffany’s pregnant ass, and Niya, who was dressed for the club but decided to stick it out with me. We were on the couch, with blankets wrapped around us as we watched Love & Basketball, passing a blunt back and forth (minus the pregnant ho) and sharing a bottle.

“Girl, next week we going out. I promise. Trell ain’t about to keep me down like this again. He got one night with me, and after all this sad shit, I’m done.”

“You say that every ti. . .