Page 95 of Cuffed By Your Love

“You are my front door, baby,” I said, pulling her closer. “My porch. My welcome mat. My damn house key.”

She chuckled wetly into my chest.

“I mean it,” I continued. “You think I’d rather live in peace without you than fight in chaos beside you? You know me better than that, mama.”

She looked up at me, eyes puffy, lip quivering.

“But what if I lose my job? What if Internal Affairs comes after you again?”

I kissed her forehead. Intentional. Worshipful.

“Then we both clock in at Crème & Chill, scooping ice cream and raising EJ off tips and grace. Fuck you mean, baby?”

She laughed again, harder this time.

I cupped her face and kissed her tears.

“Don’t ever distance yourself to protect me again,” I whispered. “That’s not your job. That’s mine. And you already do enough.”

She nodded. “I love you.”

I smiled. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“One more time.”

“I love you, baby… so much.”

“That’s all I needed.”

Later that night, as I held her on the couch while EJ slept, I realized this storm wasn’t over. But it didn’t need to be.

Because storms didn’t scare me; losing her did, and I’d rather stand in a hurricane with her hand in mine than walk in sunshine alone.

I leaned back, rubbed the bridge of my nose, and stared up at the ceiling like it held answers God hadn’t texted me back about yet.

She tried to protect me by leaving.

I had never wanted to fight for a woman the way I wanted to fight for her, not since the last time life ripped someone I loved away from me, but this wasn’t that, and I’d break the world in half before I let it happen again.

A week later, IA stamped me again as “officially cleared.” Said I’d shown “restraint.”

Chambers slapped my back. “I knew you’d stand ten toes. You are the balance of the badge and the block.”

I nodded, but my gut stayed twisted. Restraint didn’t equal peace. Restraint just meant the war was waiting.

Then dispatch cracked alive in my ear.

Suspicious activity. Possible break-in. 7432 Gardenia. Back door open. Motion detected upstairs.

Jonay’s house.

The call cracked over dispatch like a curse, and I didn’t even breathe before I was moving, boots hitting pavement with Chambers right behind me, his camera already rolling. Proof. Insurance. Protection for men like me when we had to protect women like her in a world that didn’t protect either.

The night air was swollen, thick with storm clouds and silence that didn’t belong. Not the good kind either, the silence before a shot, the pause before sirens. Even the streetlights felt like they were holding their breath, blinking slowly and tiredly.

I hit the back gate, service weapon heavy in my palm, muzzle low but hungry. The door was open, the lock splintered like a tooth knocked out. That was enough to tell me we weren’t catching him leaving. We were catching him in the middle.