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Chapter Eighteen

Kilo

the next night…

Steam drifted from the pot as I slid the salmon onto her plate, careful not to make it too heavy.

I knew how her appetite came and went lately.

I cooked something light… Tuscan salmon, roasted broccoli and garlic mashed potatoes.

She had this thing about cornbread with everything that she ate, so a slice of cornbread complimented the meal.

I didn’t say much while setting the table, just kept my movements smooth and intentional.

Glass of juice in front of her seat. Cloth napkin folded.

Candle flicked on for no reason other than ambiance.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Mel coming down the stairs slow, belly first, one hand supporting her lower back.

Crop top hugging her bump… shorts hugged this ass and thick thighs.

She looked tired, but she still looked like heaven to me.

“Smells good,” she murmured, easing into her seat.

I grabbed my plate and sat across from her. “’Preciate it.”

We started eating. Not much talking at first. Just the clink of forks and the faint sound of a playlist humming low from the speaker playing old school R&B. I caught her sneaking glances at me a few times, like she was still unsure what version of me she was getting tonight.

“You been keeping food down, okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “Past couple days, yeah. I still gotta eat slow, though.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“You?”

I raised a brow. “Me?”

She shrugged. “You’ve been walking around looking like somebody stole your puppy. I’m just checking to make sure you’re still here.”

That made me crack a small grin. “I’m here, ain’t it?”

“Physically, yeah,” she muttered. “Emotionally? That’s still questionable.”

She didn’t say it with malice. Just honesty. And I took it, because she wasn’t wrong.

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table. “I’m trying, Mel.”

Her gaze lingered before she nodded and went back to her food. We ate in silence for a while longer until I spoke up again.

“She liked you, you know.”

Mel glanced at me. “Who?”

“Liberty.”

She didn’t respond right away, just slowly reached for her juice and took a sip.

“She asked about you when she called me,” I revealed. “Said she hopes her baby brother likes her. She also said that you were pretty, and she liked your hair.”

Mel blinked a few times, eyes shifting down to her plate.

“She’s sweet,” she said finally. “A lil’ nosy, but sweet.” she smirked.

“She liked the idea of a baby brother, too,” I added. “Lit up when you told her.”

Mel let out a soft breath and gave me a small smile. “Yeah, she did. You could tell she just… wanted to belong to something.”

I nodded. “She do.”

Mel looked up at me, her voice quieter now. “So do I.”

That hit harder than she probably meant it to. I didn’t say nothin’ at first, just sat back and took a long look at her.

I reached for her hand across the table and squeezed it.

“You do, Mel,” I said, my voice firm. “You belong to me.”

She looked down at our hands, then back at me.

That softness I hadn’t seen in weeks flickered across her face, but it didn’t erase the pain.

Not fully, but it was a start. We finished in silence.

Not heavy, but not light either. Somewhere in between.

She pushed her plate away and sat back, rubbing her belly.

I stood, grabbed our plates, and started rinsing them off.

“You want a bath?” I asked over my shoulder. “I’ll run it.”

She didn’t answer right away. When I glanced back, she was watching me.

“Yeah,” she finally said. “Okay.”

I nodded, wiped my hands, and headed upstairs.

I let the water run hot first, adding a few drops of that eucalyptus shit she liked. She’d never ask for it, but I paid attention to lil’ shit like that.

The tub filled slow. I dimmed the lights and grabbed her favorite towel—the big cream one she always reached for. When I stepped out the bathroom, she was already in the room, leaning against the dresser, hands on her belly like she was trying to ground herself.

“You good?” I asked.

She nodded once. “Yeah.”

I crossed over, took her hand, and kissed her knuckles. “Come on.”

She followed me into the bathroom, eyes sweeping over the steam rising from the tub, the low light, the scent in the air.

I saw when it hit her—the way her shoulders dropped just a little, like she could finally exhale.

I helped her out of her clothes, slow and steady.

Lifted her crop top over her head, kissed the curve of her stomach before sliding her shorts down.

She watched me the whole time, lips parted, not saying a word.

“Step in,” I urged.

Once she was settled, I got in behind her, settling so her back was against my chest. My arms wrapped around her, one hand over her stomach, the other resting on her thigh under the water. We didn’t speak at first, just sat there, steam surrounding us, heartbeats syncing.

“You still mad at me?” I asked, voice low against her ear.

“Not right now.”

I smiled into her shoulder before kissing it.

We soaked like that for a minute. My fingers moving slow across her skin. Her head resting back against me. The silence was full but not heavy… just a comfortable silence.

Then I felt her shift. Her hand slid over mine, pulling it up to cup her breast. I moved slow, thumbing her nipple until it pebbled under my touch. She gasped, barely, but I felt it deep.

“Say the word, mama,” I murmured.

“I’on wanna talk,” she breathed.

That was all I needed to hear. We got out the tub and I wrapped her in the towel, lifting her into my arms, and carried her to the bed.

When I laid her down, she looked up at me like she was seeing something she hadn’t seen in a long time.

My mouth found her skin like it was searching for something. I trailed kisses from her neck… her breasts… the curve of her belly. Every inch of her body was worshipped like I was trying to make up for every fucked-up thing I hadn’t done or said right.

She moaned low when I slid between her thighs. She was wet already… like she was waiting for me. I ate her slow, and with intention. Her legs trembling over my shoulders as she fisted the sheets.

“Kilo…” she whined. “Fuck…”

“I’m right here,” I growled, voice buried in her pussy.

She arched her back, trying to close her thighs around my head, but I held them open.

“Take it, mama,” I teased. “I know you ain’t tapping out already?”

She came with a loud cry, thighs clamping around me, while her hands caressed my smooth head.

I gently turned her over and slid in from the side, one hand gripping her hip, the other wrapped around her throat as I pulled her back into me.

“You gone run from me?” I grunted.

“No—”

“Good girl,” I growled, winding my hips into her.

She screamed, biting my forearm, but I didn’t let up.

“I told you. I’m right here,” I said against her ear. “Ain’t going nowhere.”

“Kilo… please…”

“What you begging for, mama?” I taunted. “What you need from me?”

She shook her head, breathless. “I…I need you. All of you.”

And she got it. Every inch. Every stroke. Every moan and growl that slipped from my mouth like a confession.

When I came, I buried my face in her neck and held her like she was the only thing holding me together. And maybe she was.

***

I didn’t say a word when I slid out of bed. Mel was out cold, one leg over my thigh like she didn’t want to let go, even in her sleep. I gently shifted her off, kissed her stomach, and grabbed my clothes. Moved slow, quiet. I didn’t want her waking up—not for this.

I threw on an all-black tee and jeans. I tucked my Glock in the waistband of my jeans, slipped on my hoodie, and left out and headed toward the warehouse. By the time I got there, Buck and Stacks were already posted up.

The air inside the warehouse was thick. Not with smoke, but with the looming energy of death.

Stacks was leaned up against the wall, arms crossed.

Buck was pacing the floor, like the disturbed muthafucka he was.

My eyes zoomed in on the three fools tied to the chairs in the center of the room.

One of them was already slumped over—barely conscious, with blood dripping from his mouth.

The other one was screaming behind the duct tape with one eye swollen shut.

My eyes landed on Sean, and he held my gaze like he wasn’t moments away from death. He sat up straight, smirking, like this was a game he still had a shot at winning. “Took you long enough,” he spit. “Thought you was soft for a minute.” He smirked.

I stepped closer and peered down at this fuck nigga. “You got something to say to me? Say that shit now,” I told him.

He grinned. “I already said it. You sitting here like everything was all good. When you found out about Liberty, you were supposed to step the fuck up and break us off for taking yo’ slack, nigga. You living good as fuck and I needed my cut of that,” he spat.

“Is this nigga retarded or some shit?” Buck quizzed. “Nigga, do you even hear yo’ self? The fuck he owe you but a fuckin’ bullet?”

“He owes me for taking care of his fuckin’ daughter!” He bucked in the chair.

“You sound dumb as fuck,” Stacks cut in. “How the fuck you mad about some shit that yo’ bitch ass family concocted? That shit really makes sense to you? You act like my brother knew about that lil’ girl.”

“He should’ve kicked off some bread when he found out.”

“So, that’s what this is about? Money?” I cut in. “You wanted fuckin’ money?”

“You damn right I did. I took care of that lil’ girl, not you!”

“And whose fault is that?” I cocked my head to the side.

“Aye, hurry this shit up. I’ain come here to hear no fuckin’ monologue,” Buck asserted. I could tell he was getting irritated and ready to kill this nigga.

I turned my attention back to this nigga. “You know what? Had you come to me like a man, I probably would’ve looked out for yo’ pussy ass just off the strength of you doing what I couldn’t. Nah, but instead you chose to be a bitch nigga and chose the wrong route.”

“Fuck you,” he muttered.

Instead of responding to his dumb ass, I smirked and pressed the button that was on the side of the wall.

When I did, the floor opened and slowly started lowering him and his accomplices into a sea of acid.

I watched in sheer delight at their bodies burning off the bone in a matter of minutes.

The piercing tone of their cries were satisfying.

Nobody moved. Nobody flinched. Buck lit a blunt like it was just another ordinary night. “Damn, I meant to get that nigga’s jacket,” he muttered. “That shit was nice.”

“You niggas need therapy.” Stacks shook his head as he led the way out the warehouse.

Laughing, I said. “This is the therapy.”

“Hell yeah,” Buck agreed.

And just like that, we left the warehouse. No guilt. No regrets. Just another problem eliminated.