Page 24 of Rose

Ahzii glanced into the back seat where Ace was curled up, his eyes fluttering closed. Her expression sleepy, confused, annoyed, and just a little bit thrown.

“You are not my man,” she reminded him. “More like my stalker.”

“You pulled up to my place of business. But I’m the stalker?” he replied, cocking a brow.

“I didn’t know this was your place,” she shot back. “But you? You broke into a man’s house just to see me. That’s textbook stalking, dumbass.”

He laughed darkly, that maddening grin still curling at the corners of his lips. “And I hope you listened to what I told you that night too.”

She rolled her eyes so hard her head tilted with it. “Can you move, please? I’ll figure out the damn tire in the morning.”

“It’s too low for that. You’ll ruin the rim or end up on the side of the road. Let me fix the tire,” he said, voice lower now, less arrogant, more serious. “It’s late. You stubborn, but you not stupid.”

She stared at him for a moment, hands tight on the wheel. He was right, and she knew it. The tire was damn near flat to the rim. A few more miles and she'd be riding on sparks.

With a long sigh, she shut off the engine and stepped out.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But no funny business. Just fix the damn tire so I can go home. I’m tired.”

Savior smirked. But inside, he was buzzing—because she didn’t leave.

She stayed.

Savior drove her matte black AMG into the garage and slid it onto the lift, letting the machine slowly raise the car until it hovered above their heads. Ahzii stood off to the side, tapping distractedly at her phone, while Ace laid at her feet, alert and unmoving—his own kind of warning sign.

“How old is Ace?” Savior asked, grabbing a wrench.

“One,” she answered without looking up, her voice dry. She wasn’t doing anything on her phone—just pretending. It was easier than letting herself watch the way his muscles flexed every time he moved.

Savior nodded, unfazed. “What do you do for a living?”

Ahzii glanced up and hit him with a glare. “I’m sure you already know—since you stalk me.”

He chuckled under his breath, unfazed. “I do know, but not from stalking. My brother told me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So now you got your family doing recon for you too?”

“Nah,” he said, still calm, still cool. “Sin and Mazi are close. Best friend shit. I was talkin’ about you, and he already knew who you were.”

Ahzii nodded slowly, things clicking. “That makes a lot of sense now.”

“What?”

“You two look just alike. Didn’t notice it before. Y’all act the same, too—crazy and obsessed. Just like Sin is about Taylor. So I guess delusion runs in the family.”

Savior grinned as he grabbed the new tire. “Crazy? Yeah. Delusional? Nah. We just know what we want and don’t stop until it’s ours.”

Ahzii couldn’t help but glance up from her screen, eyes trailing the way his biceps flexed as he handled the heavy tire like it weighed nothing.

“You don’t know me well enough to say you want me,” she shot back, defensive.

“I don’t need to know you to want you,” he said simply, never taking his eyes off his task.

Then, casually, like he wasn’t dropping a bomb, he asked, “So why you still fuckin’ that basketball nigga?”

She stiffened. “That basketball nigga got a name.”

“Yeah,” Savior said, tightening a bolt, “and it’s gonna be on a tombstone soon if you keep fuckin’ him.”

Her head snapped toward him, eyes wide. “You don’t run me. Who the fuck are you to tell me who I can sleep with? ”

He turned slowly, eyes locking onto hers like a steel trap. “Savior Khaos Carter. Husband to Ahzii Carter.”

“Khaos?” She blinked, then scoffed. “Your parents really named you that?”

“Yeah,” he said without missing a beat, “and you’ll find out why if you keep playin’ with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Nigga, fuck you. I’ll fuck whoever I want.”

“You don’t even like the nigga,” Savior said with a knowing smirk, moving to the next tire—one that didn’t need changing, but he wanted to keep her here longer.

“I don’t gotta like him to fuck him,” she snapped.

He paused, looking at her now like he saw straight through her. “You really not that type of woman.”

Her arms folded tightly across her chest. “You don’t know me.”

“I know you’re guarded,” he said, calm as ever, eyes still focused on the tire. “I know somebody broke you, maybe more than once. And you’re scared of feeling anything real again. So you sleep with a nigga who makes you feel nothing ...because it’s safer than feeling everything .”

His words sliced deeper than they had any right to. Ahzii froze, heart hammering in her chest as memories she’d buried rose up uninvited. Her fingertips drifted to the necklace around her neck—her wedding ring hanging from the chain—her grounding piece when the past came crawling back.

“Don’t speak on shit you know nothing about,” she said, her voice low and uneven.

Savior didn’t say a word.

He kept working, letting the silence speak for him. But she stood there behind him, unraveling in real time, his voice echoing in her head like a prophecy. She wasn’t mad because he was wrong.

She was mad because he might be right.

Ahzii was so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t even noticed her car was back on the ground—four brand-new tires, not one. Savior stood nearby, arms folded, watching her with calm intensity.

“You back with me?” he asked. “You zoned out for a minute.”

She blinked, realizing just how long she’d been frozen, trapped in the weight of everything she refused to say. Her shoulders straightened. She defaulted to defense.

“Look, you don’t know me,” she said flatly. “So don’t pretend that you do.”

Savior didn’t flinch. He leaned back against her car, arms still crossed, gaze soft but unwavering. “I’m not pretending shit, Allure. Since the day I laid eyes on you, you’ve been stuck in my fucking head. You already got me doing wild-ass shit behind you, and I don’t even know why.”

He sounded calm, but his voice carried weight. Like even saying the words aloud scratched an itch inside him that had been eating him alive.

Ahzii stared back at him—expression unreadable, eyes screaming everything.

“That sounds like a personal problem,” she said coldly.

“I’m not somebody you need to be thinking about or trying to figure out.

I’m not a fucking puzzle to solve. And I damn sure don’t want to be looked at the way you’re looking at me right now. ”

Savior took a slow step forward, towering over her, but not in a threatening way—just enough to make her feel seen.

“How am I looking at you?” he asked, voice low.

“Soft,” she replied, lifting her chin, refusing to back down. “Like you care. Like you yearn or whatever the fuck. Only one man ever looked at me like that… and he left.”

The lie scratched her throat on the way out. William didn’t leave. He was taken. Gunned down and buried, leaving her to pick up the shattered pieces alone. But Savior didn’t need to know that. No one did.

“I don’t ever want to feel that again,” she said. “So whatever you think this is, whatever you’re feeling? Let that shit go.”

She snatched the keys from his hand, cold and distant, her tone void of emotion, but her body rigid with everything she refused to say.

Savior watched her, heart pounding, jaw tight.

He wanted to tell her how wrong she was.

That whatever he was feeling—it wasn’t temporary.

That he didn’t know what the hell this was, but it was real.

That she wasn’t just in his head. She was under his skin. Etched into his chest.

But all he said was: “That shit not happening, Allure.”

She turned away, counting out ten hundred-dollar bills and slapping them onto the tool cart like a challenge. “This should cover the tires and labor,” she muttered.

Savior’s expression darkened. “Allure, stop fucking disrespecting me.”

Her glare cut back to him, sharp and daring.

“I’m not leaving you the fuck alone,” he continued. “And you not paying me for doing what I’m supposed to do—as your man.”

Her laugh was short, humorless. “I’m not one of them bitches you’re used to. I don’t let a man come in, talk crazy, do crazy, and call himself ‘mine.’ Take the advice I gave you... and take the fucking money.”

She left the cash on the cart and moved toward her car without another word.

But the ache in her chest stayed put.

She helped Ace into the backseat, but just as her hand reached for the driver's door handle, she felt it—Savior’s grip on her arm. Before she could react, he spun her around, pinning her back against the car. His lips crashed into hers, urgent, rough, and uninvited.

Ahzii froze—only for a second.

Then she melted.

Her eyes fluttered shut as his tongue slid past her lips, and she let him in.

Her body betrayed her mind, leaning into the kiss, letting it deepen.

Savior’s hands gripped her waist, grounding her in the moment, making her feel something she hadn’t felt in years—safe.

Protected. Desired. Her chest ached as her heart and mind went to war, but still, she didn’t stop him.

She should’ve. She should’ve shoved him away. Cursed him out. Slapped the shit out of him.

But she didn’t.

Because the last man whose touch made her feel this anchored was William.

And that thought shattered everything.

“Beautiful…”

His voice echoed in her mind, soft and warm. His face appeared, vivid and haunting.

The tears came fast.

“No—” she gasped, panic flashing across her face as she shoved Savior back with everything in her.

He didn’t stumble. He simply stepped away, licking his lips, now smeared in her gloss. He looked dazed—but not apologetic. Not even a little. He could still taste her on him.

Ahzii’s voice cracked as she screamed, “Never do that shit again! Why would you—why the fuck would you do that?!”

Her voice was loud, but her soul was crumbling. The kiss wasn’t hollow or meaningless like the ones she gave Kiyan to feel something. This one was real. It reached the parts of her she’d buried with her husband. The love she swore died with him.

And now it felt like she betrayed William.

Savior’s voice was calm—too calm. “To let you know I’m not changing shit about how I feel. You can be guarded all you want, but that’s not gon’ stop a nigga like me.”

He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip, slow, eyes locked on hers, craving more of what he just tasted. Knowing he'd feel it again. Knowing she felt it too.

Ahzii backed away like she’d touched fire.

“Stay far the fuck away from me. Leave me the fuck alone, Savior!” she snapped, wrenching open the car door and climbing in.

She didn’t wait for another word. She peeled out of the garage like her life depended on it.

And maybe it did.

Savior stood still, hands in his pockets, unbothered on the outside. But inside, he was already replaying the kiss—burning it into memory. He knew she was running, but he also knew she wouldn’t be able to outrun the way that kiss made her feel.

Ahzii, meanwhile, drove through the dark with tears streaking down her face, gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Her heart screamed. Her guilt screamed louder.

She couldn’t stop seeing William’s face.

Couldn’t stop remembering how it used to feel to love. To be loved.

And now—this.

That kiss cracked something open, and the flood poured in.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry,” she whispered into the silence, her voice trembling, her chest hollow.

She didn’t know if she was apologizing for feeling... or for finally not feeling numb.

One man was taken from her.

And another one was forcing his way in—uninvited, unrelenting, and impossible to ignore.