Page 30

W e ’ d b a r e l y l e f t the bed, only getting up when absolutely necessary—food, water, a quick shower before diving right back in. It was toxic. Insane. Intense. Shooter was like a drug I couldn’t quit, and even though my head was still fucked up from what I’d learned about Silas, my body was tuned into him like he was the only thing keeping me alive.

I lay sprawled across his chest, tracing slow circles on his inked skin while some romance movie I put on played in the background. I wasn’t even really watching it, just letting it fill the space while I listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Shooter’s hand rested on my hip, lazy but firm, like even in his half-asleep state, he had to keep me close. The possessiveness wasn’t just about control—I understood that now. It was about keeping me safe, keeping me his.

My eyes flicked up to his face, his sharp jawline relaxed for once, his lips slightly parted. He looked at peace, but I knew better. His mind was never still. “What’s this shit you got on?”

he mumbled, eyes still closed.

I smiled a little. “It’s a classic romance.”

He huffed. “Ain’t no classic. It’s some corny ass shit.”

I gasped, sitting up slightly to look at him. “Corny?”

“Yes, corny,”

he muttered, cracking one eye open. “Ain’t no way in hell this shit realistic. Dude met her two days ago, now he talkin’ ‘bout some I’d die without you?”

I smirked, shifting to straddle his waist, resting my hands on his chest. “Sounds familiar.”

He grunted. “Don’t play with me.”

I leaned down, brushing my lips over his. “What? I’m just saying, didn’t take you long to—”

Before I could finish, he gripped my ass and flipped us over so fast my head spun. I let out a breathless laugh as he pinned me to the bed, his full weight pressing me into the mattress. “Say it again,”

he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, his blue eyes locked onto mine.

My heart pounded. “You fell fast, Mr. Mosley.”

His lips twitched like he wanted to deny it, but we both knew the truth. Instead of answering, he kissed me, deep and slow, his fingers tightening around my throat just enough to make my breath hitch. When he pulled back, there was something different in his gaze, something serious that made my stomach tighten.

“I gotta be gone for a couple days.”

Just like that, the heat between us shifted.

I sat up, my fingers curling into the sheets. “For what?”

His jaw clenched, and he sat up too, running a hand down his face. “I gotta handle this shit.”

The USB. The recording. Silas’s betrayal. It all came back to me. Shooter might’ve been laid up with me for the last couple of days, putting me through the mattress and cuddling, but his mind had been working. Plotting. Calculating. Some shit was about to go down.

I exhaled slowly, searching his face. “Please be safe.”

His hand cupped the back of my head, pulling me in for a slow, lingering kiss that had my stomach flipping. When he pulled back, he brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. “I gotchu.”

I nodded, not pushing for details, because I didn’t want them. He shifted, standing up from the bed, and started pulling on his clothes. My chest felt tight watching get dressed, watching him slip back into the cold, ruthless version of himself that the world knew him as.

When he was done, he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Guards are back. Ain’t no more you bein' here alone.”

I sighed. “Shooter, I don’t—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you want,”

he cut me off, his tone sharp.

I swallowed, my throat tight while I watched him, my mind spinning with everything that had happened, everything I had learned. This was my life now. And no matter how crazy, no matter how twisted… I trusted him. I had to.

H o u r s l a t e r , I woke up to an empty penthouse and a hollow feeling in my chest. I wasn’t used to waking up without Shooter anymore. I stretched out on the bed, inhaling deeply. His scent still lingered on the sheets, but it wasn’t the same. Sighing, I sat up and rubbed my face. My stomach let out a loud growl, reminding me I hadn’t eaten all day.

After a quick shower, I slipped into a pair of soft, high-waisted lounge shorts and a cropped hoodie, keeping it cute and comfy. My hair was piled into a messy bun, and I swiped on some lip gloss because even if I was just lounging, I liked to look good.

Padding barefoot into the kitchen, I opened the fridge, grabbed what I needed, and then went to open the front door. “Y’all hungry?”

I asked Marcus and Dru, the security guards.

Both men exchanged looks before Dru cleared his throat. “You cookin’?”

“Yeah.”

I arched a brow. “Y’all eat, right?”

Marcus looked nervous as hell but nodded. “Yeah, we eat.

“Cool.”

I got to work, moving around the kitchen with ease. I missed having my hands busy, missed the normalcy of doing something as simple as cooking. As the food sizzled on the stove, I picked up my phone, hesitating for a second before dialing Mecca. She picked up on the second ring.

“Look who finally decided to call. You know, I was thinkin’ about blockin’ your ass after what happened.”

I sighed, already smiling. “Mecca, I’m sorry—”

“You should be, bitch. I almost got my wig snatched off and my damn door—”

“Is already replaced.”

She paused. “How you know that?”

“Because I know Shooter,”

I muttered, flipping the food in the pan. “I figured he’d handle it.”

Mecca sighed dramatically. “Well, yeah, it’s fixed. And some nigga dropped off a fat ass envelope. I ain’t ask no questions, but that shit was heavy. So, I ain’t even mad no more.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I bet you ain’t.”

“You damn right.”

She sucked her teeth. “I still can’t believe that shit, though. Your crazy ass husband really sent the goon squad in my house like I was harborin’ a fugitive.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mecca.”

“Nah, for real! They bust in like the damn FBI! And I had on my cute pajamas too, had me out here lookin’ crazy in front of these niggas.”

I snorted, biting back another laugh. “You are so dramatic.”

“And you are so whipped,”

she shot back. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

I sighed, stirring the food. “I don’t even know what I am at this point.”

“Girl, please.”

She scoffed. “I know exactly what you are. A married woman. So just accept it and stop playin’.”

I didn’t respond right away because the truth was… she wasn’t wrong.