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45

Ace

I spot Tori before she spots me. She’s in a booth near the window with a half-empty glass of red wine in front of her. I'm surprised nobody’s bothering her. Sweet Georgia Blue is a popular soul food spot near me where niggas are always on the prowl. It’s probably her vibe, though. Some women give off an aura like they take absolutely no shit, and Tori is that kinda woman.

She’s scrolling through her phone as I approach, her expression calm but sharp, like she’s ready to get down to business the minute I sit my ass down.

“Hey, you,” I say, sliding into the seat across from her.

She looks up, her smile blooming easily. “Ace.” She sets her phone down and folds her hands in front of her. “It’s so good to see you, sweetheart.”

“You, too.” I wave down the server and order a bourbon neat. I already know I’m gonna need it.

We don’t jump right into it. She orders another glass, we make small talk—how’s work, how’s the weather, did you enjoy your spa day yesterday—and then, finally, she leans back in her seat and exhales.

“So.” She drops her voice lower, making me lean in. “Do we have a plan?”

We both know what we’re talking about here, but we can’t say it plainly. Not even in a restaurant full of strangers who aren’t paying us any mind.

“Oh, I have a plan,” I say, swirling my bourbon. “I just needed to confirm the tools I’m using to dismantle this thing.”

Tori smiles at that. “I have what you’re looking for. All you’ll have to do is deliver it.”

“Delivery’s not a problem.” I take a swig and let it burn. “Long as it won’t leave anything behind.”

“No residue.” She sips her wine, her dark eyes locked on mine. “It’ll be quick. Painless. Undetectable.”

I was hoping for a little pain, but beggars can’t be choosers.

My stomach twists a little, but I ignore it. I knew what I was signing up for when I reached out to Tori. I knew she was the person who helped Raya out the first time. Context clues and all, her being a nurse. I’m glad Raya has somebody like her in her corner.

That makes two of us, now.

“You must be serious about her,” she says, her voice softer now. “This isn’t the kind of thing you do for shits and giggles.”

“I am,” I say, no hesitation. “I’m all in.”

Tori nods slowly, like she’s weighing my words in her head. “I’m glad to hear that. Because my niece…she’s a strong girl. She had to be, unfortunately. But she needs a lot of support.”

“I know.”

“Okay, but just know that she might even…” she trails off, her eyes searching mine. “Have you ever seen a deer when it’s cornered?”

I shake my head.

“They don’t just freeze like the saying goes. They bite. They kick. They tear shit up just to feel like they have a fighting chance.” She stares intently. “That’s my niece. That’s how she learned to survive. Even if you’re trying to help her and support her, if she feels the walls closing in, she’s gonna lash out.. Sometimes, to her own detriment.”

I swallow hard. “I get it. That’s why I’m doing this. I want that girl to feel safe. For real. Not just when we’re together. I want her to know she doesn’t have to fight anymore.”

That's how I rationalize this shit.

It's not a decision I came to lightly. I don't do shit on a whim. I research. I plan. I map. I execute. But I had to use my heart more than my head on this one. I had to feel my way through to the other side, where I realized I hold the key to Raya's well-being. She'll never be free until she's free of him.

And I won't be free until I redeem myself.

Tori smiles again, but it’s a sad one this time. “You’re a good man, sweetheart. But you need to understand something else.” She leans in. “Raya doesn’t trust safety. She trusts control. Safety’s always been temporary for her. Control is how she sleeps at night. That's why she fixates.” She shakes her head. "You don't wanna see that girl when her mind is unoccupied."

I sit with that for a minute. It definitely tracks. The way she always keeps one hand on the wheel, even when I’m trying to steer the ship. The way she tests me and makes me prove myself, over and over again, just to make sure I don’t let her down. The way she spent her last two years on my pages…following me around…

“I can handle that,” I say finally.

“I hope so.” Tori takes another sip of wine. “That girl is not for the weak.”

“Good thing I ain’t weak, then.”

Not entirely true. I’m weak for her, but not about her. Subtle nuance.

“There’s one more thing,” she says. “If you wanna keep her, you’re gonna have to move a certain way. And I think I can help you with that.”

I hear her out over my smothered chicken and mac and cheese. My appetite slowly decreases as she speaks, my stomach twisting until I have to put my fork down and order another drink.

Tori’s calm and composed, sipping the last of her sparkling water like she didn’t just spend the last thirty minutes discussing my girl like she’s a case study in a psychology textbook.

She said a lot .

Suggestions. Strategies. Shit that makes me feel like I’m walking into a war zone instead of a relationship with the woman I love.

I know Raya’s been through some shit. She’s lied. Kept me at a distance. I’ve seen the cracks in her perfect exterior. She’s even told me, point blank, that she’s a fucked up person. But what Tori’s talking about…ain’t no way. She talks like Raya’s a bomb with a 60-second timer and me being with her means constantly defusing her, praying I cut the right wire every time.

I know she knows her niece, but she doesn’t know me. I can handle Raya. Deep down, she’s just a scared little girl who needs a soft place to land.

I’m that place.

I lean back, stretching my arm across the back of the booth, watching Tori closely. She’s unfazed now that she’s said her piece, and I wonder who she’s really trying to protect here—me, or Raya. Is she warning me? It’s hard to say.

When the check comes, I slip my card into the holder. Tori thanks me, polite and warm, but her eyes are sharp. She studies me just like Raya does.

Whole family’s on some weird shit. For real.

Outside, the crisp, cool evening air nips at us as we walk to Tori’s car. It’s a sensible, no-frills sedan, but the fuzzy pink dice hanging from the rearview mirror hint at a little personality. Tori doesn’t say much, just hums under her breath.

She thanks me for opening her door, pausing just before she gets in to sigh wearily.

“Ace…if you ever change your mind…about anything I said…please reach out. I mean that.”

She’s not asking. She’s pleading.

Unsettled, I nod. It’s easier than saying no again. But also?

A small part of me doesn’t wanna close the door all the way.

Just in case.