Page 3 of A Million Boss Kisses

Stabbing my spoon back into the ice cream tub, I abandoned my position and rushed upstairs.

I don’t know why, but something moved me to gather a few rags and some Tylenol Extra Strength for him.

When I returned to the kitchen, he remained in the same spot, unmoved, eyes still trained on the doorway.

I silently turned on the cold water and wet one rag before handing it to him to replace the one he held up against his face.

Then I soaked the second rag and walked over, my steps slow and careful, giving him the opportunity to tell me to back the fuck up if he wanted to.

Accepting his silence as consent, I gently dabbed at the blood streaked across his neck and face.

Every touch felt too soft for the damage I was looking at.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t wince. Just sat there, quiet and unmoving, as I dabbed at the wounds that would’ve had me screaming for all the pain medication.

“The most fucked up part about it is that this time, I’m actually going to try to stay away from Vita. Otherwise, he might be able to track her down and make good on his threat to kill her. I can wear this ass whooping, but I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her.”

His voice cracked and a lone tear slipped down his face. I would’ve been bawling my eyes out from the physical pain, but it was the emotional turmoil from leaving the love of his life alone that was killing him. I gently patted away his tears, allowing him to be vulnerable in that moment.

“My boyfriend would rather cheat on me than take my virginity because he’s afraid of my uncle,” I blurted out and instantly regretted it, but we were both bursting at the seams with secrets.

That admission finally tore his stare from the doorway, and his eyes fluttered towards me.

“What? You’re spilling your soul, so I might as well expel my issues as well.

” I shrugged as he stared at me. “Confession for a confession,” I uttered, continuing to clean his face.

Just when I was starting to feel like his stare was creeping me out, he spoke again.

“You’re beautiful and have a good heart.

For that alone, you are worth the love of a nigga that will go to war with the devil ‘bout you. You’re worthy of a nigga who got the nuts to step to Vincent.

You deserve nothing less. Hell, coming from the Marucci family, it’s what you need.

Your family is too powerful for a soft ass nigga anyways. ”

I offered him a small smile and continued cleaning him up until his face was free of blood. After tossing the rags into the washing machine and washing my hands, I silently reclaimed my spot in front of my ice cream, and I went back to stuffing my face.

“You ever thought about running away from this life?” I queried, blurting out my inner thoughts. “Going somewhere that these rules don’t apply? Where nobody knows you and you can just be free?”

“I’m twenty-three, this life is all I know. Ion have no other skills or a college degree. What the fuck I’mma do if I run off? You can’t be no older than me. What the fuck you gone do out there?”

“I’m eighteen. Just graduated, but I believe in myself enough to figure it out. Sometimes I just want to go where nobody knows my uncle. Live a regular life.”

“You standing here in a twelve hundred dollar Pratesi robe, Chanel slippers on your feet, and only lord knows how much that wet and wavy hair costs.”

“Ummmm excuse me, this is my real hair!” I refuted with a chuckle, although he had me gagged.

“My bad. Shit, you looking good and expensive either way,” he complimented and for some reason, that made my breathing hitch.

“Moral of the story is you wouldn’t make it on your own.

You too fucking spoiled. Hell, I admit coming up the way I did has me living comfortable as fuck.

I’m not about to go fuck around and work harder than I ever have to make less than I ever have.

Besides, I might be able to successfully run away from my family, but you?

That’s a different story. Vincent would scorch the earth for you.

His reach is nationwide. Don’t try to pull me into your runaway scheme. ”

He was one thousand percent correct. I’d grown accustomed to this lifestyle. All I knew was princess treatment but that didn’t stop a girl from daydreaming of a different life.

“How do you know so much about my uncle and I’ve never met you?” I inquired in an attempt to get out of my own head.

“I might be battered and bruised but I know the code,” he cracked a smile and I caught a glimpse of his perfect white teeth.

Even with his face all fucked up, you couldn’t deny that the man was handsome.

If you asked me, it was sexy the way he could wear an ass whooping.

From the various shoe patterns on his white T-shirt, I surmised that he had taken a beating from more than just his father.

Yet he was still standing, flashing me his perfect smile, and finding a way to speak life into me. The front door came open, and my uncle barged inside with a duffle bag in hand.

“What, your phone off? I been calling you,” he stated, tossing the duffle bag onto the counter in front of me. I eyed the bundles of cash that lined the bag until my uncle clapped in my face.

“Marissa, what’s up with your phone?”

“I turned it off,” I sassed.

“Well, this is Quinten. Quinten, this is my niece Marissa. He will be staying here until his face heals up, then he will be headed back to Miami. Don’t let me catch you upstairs anywhere near Marissa’s room.

You only allowed downstairs. Break the rules and ya daddy will really be in the dog house with yo mama because I’ll send ya lil ass back to Miami in a body bag,” he announced, pushing the duffle bag closer to me.

He walked around the kitchen island and placed a kiss on my forehead. “Come help me put that money away.”

“Aye aye captain,” I saluted, following him out of the kitchen and upstairs to his bedroom.

“What do you think about Quinten?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I know you got a little boyfriend and all, but that lil nigga weak as fuck. Quinten on the other hand, I know he’s the type of nigga that will protect you. I wouldn’t be so fearful if you moved out and were under his family’s protection. I fuck with them.”

“All I know is he’s beat the fuck up down there.”

“Yeah, Quinten is beat up, but he killed the first nigga his father sent to put hands on him, so he had to come back three times harder with three niggas and he still standing. Just an idea I thought I’d float by you.

I’m not in a rush for you to move out. You can stay here until I’m lowered into a grave, I wouldn’t give a fuck.

Go to college, pick up a trade. I don’t mind either way.

As long as you remain in Jacksonville, I don’t give a damn.

I always told you an arranged marriage would have to be something you wanted.

I’d never thrust you into shit quickly,” he detailed on the trek into his room.

Silence fell between us as he closed the door behind us and tossed the duffle bag onto the bed. He opened the safe and I slowly passed him the bands of money that he neatly stacked inside the safe.

“You know what, I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better. I can’t make any promises though,” I confirmed, and Uncle Vincent stopped his movement to peer over at me.

“Oh shit, I was just fucking around. I expected you to bite my head off for disrespecting your soft ass boyfriend. So Kadeem is the reason you came in here with red eyes. What the fuck he do?”

“Nothing, Uncle Vincent,” I stood beside him. “I’m just starting to grapple with the realities in front of me. Kadeem would never work.”

“Well, Quinten would be a good look, but I don’t need them niggas. Them niggas need me. So don’t even think about doing that shit for me. If you like the lil nigga y’all can date a lil but ain’t no marriage happening no time soon.”

“Understood,” I bubbled.

It took Quinten four weeks to heal, and after spending time with him around the clock during his stay, natural feelings definitely sprouted.

That turned into a long-distance relationship, which eventually led to a shotgun marriage because, unlike Kadeem, Quinten wasn’t afraid to cross lines.

And I ended up pregnant. Although the wedding was rushed, Quinten was the man that I felt I deserved.