Page 57 of Rose

She hesitated, then added, “I almost told him when I asked him to teach me how to shoot. ”

Last night, during their beach smoke session, Ahzii had finally found the courage to ask Savior to teach her how to use a gun. It wasn’t about being tough, it was about never feeling helpless again.

She remembered that night in the fire. The blood. The fear. The guilt. The way she froze. Part of her had always blamed herself for not knowing how to protect William. For not being able to protect herself.

She refused to feel that way ever again.

Kyre froze mid-chew. “Wait—you asked him what? ”

Ahzii gave her a look, lips curled in a tired smirk. “Don’t start.”

“Girl!” Kyre laughed, still caught off guard. “ You? Wanting to shoot a gun? That’s how I know you serious.”

“I felt... defenseless in that house,” Ahzii said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t save William. I couldn’t save my baby girl. And I think—if I learn how to protect myself... maybe I’ll never have to feel that helpless again.”

Kyre nodded slowly, letting the weight of her words settle. “Zii... that shit wasn’t your fault. Y’all were robbed. You were six months pregnant, and those men were armed. There was nothing you could’ve done.”

She paused, then added more gently, “But I do think it’s a good thing—to learn how to defend yourself. I went through gun training before I even became a lawyer. And with who Savior and the twins are?” She smirked. “Girl, you need to know how to shoot if you’re gonna be a Carter.”

Ahzii laughed, rolling her eyes. “ Have heard…”

“He agreed with it,” Ahzii said, her voice quieter now. “After asking me a million questions... I think he knows something’s not right. I just haven’t had the strength to tell him. Not the full story. Not yet.”

Kyre leaned in a little. “But... will you ever tell him? About what happened?”

Ahzii hesitated.

“If you really love him,” Kyre continued softly, “you gotta let him into the parts you want to keep buried. The ones you’re scared to say out loud. He loves you , Ahzii. Every broken, scarred, and healing part of you.”

Ahzii swallowed hard, heart tugging at her chest.

“I know,” she whispered. “I do plan to tell him. Just... one step at a time.”

Kyre nodded in understanding. “One step at a time,” she repeated, squeezing Ahzii’s hand.

They spent the rest of their lunch laughing, catching up like old times—trading jokes over sticky barbecue fingers and wiping away tears of laughter between bites of mac and cheese and cornbread. For a moment, it was easy. Light. Normal.

Ahzii wasn’t fully healed. But she also wasn’t the woman buried beneath the ashes of a love she lost.

She was rebuilding. Piece by piece. And the people in her life—the ones still standing with her—were the reason she could.

???

Savior and Ahzii sat in silence, the engine ticking softly beneath them as they parked outside his parents’ house. The driveway and curb were lined with familiar cars—everyone was already inside. They were the last to arrive .

And Savior hadn’t moved.

When Saint invited him to dinner— and told him to bring Ahzii—he’d been caught off guard. Shocked, even. Nervous wasn’t something he usually admitted to, but tonight? It crept in quietly and settled in his chest.

His parents didn’t do “welcome.” Not for him. Not really. His mother hosted these family dinners like clockwork, but he rarely showed up. What was the point? Nothing good ever came from stepping through that door.

Ahzii reached over, placing her hand gently on top of his. “Savior,” she said softly, “talk to me. We don’t have to go in if you’re not comfortable.”

He turned his hand over, lacing their fingers before lifting hers to his lips. He kissed the back of it, eyes still staring out at the house.

“If they say or do some disrespectful shit—”

“Then we’re leaving,” she finished for him, firm and unfazed.

That made him smile. A real one.

He leaned in and kissed her lips—once, twice, then a third time until she playfully pushed his face away.

“Boy, you’re always messing up my lip combo. Move!” she teased.

He laughed, the tension in his chest easing just enough to breathe.

He stepped out, closing the car door behind him and whispering a quick prayer under his breath that the night wouldn’t blow up in his face. Then he walked around to open her door like he always did.

Ahzii stepped out like a dream in white.

A sleeveless Dior top hugged small waist, tucked neatly into high-waisted jeans hugging her curves, and gold jewelry shimmered against her glowing skin.

Her heels clicked softly as she stepped onto the pavement—white designer stilettos that somehow made her look even more powerful.

Savior looked just as sharp—black tee under a black Louis Vuitton jacket, dark jeans, and Maison Mihara sneakers. His fade was fresh, his cut gleaming beneath the porch lights. Together, they looked like confidence wrapped in elegance and edge.

As they approached the door, hand in hand, she gave his fingers a gentle squeeze.

“I got you,” she whispered as he reached for the doorbell.

The door opened within seconds.

Sarai stood there, glowing as always, and the moment she saw them, her smile lit up the porch. “Hey, my favorite person!” she squealed, completely bypassing Savior to throw her arms around Ahzii.

Ahzii laughed, caught off guard by the warm welcome.

“Damn, Gold, that’s how it is?” Savior joked from the side, eyebrow raised.

Sarai waved him off. “Don’t hate.”

“Hey, Savvy,” she added casually, going to hug him—only for him to mush her head as she leaned in, making her grunt as she landed a light punch to his shoulder.

Ahzii burst out laughing. The way they bickered was familiar. Comfortable. It reminded her of her and A’Mazi—loud, playful, and full of unspoken love.

“Come on in. Food’s ready,” Sarai said, leading them inside and closing the door behind them.

Savior walked deeper into the fortress of his parents’ home, each step echoing louder in his chest than on the floor.

The dining room came into view, already filled with voices and the quiet clinking of glasses.

Everyone was seated—his parents, Sin, Taylor, Chris, Sarai, Aunt Marley, Olivia and her husband, Daniel, and Macho with his woman, Kylie.

“Wassup, everyone,” Savior greeted, his voice smooth, grounded.

Ahzii followed beside him, offering a polite wave and a warm smile.

“This is my woman, Ahzii,” he said proudly.

“Hey, Pretty. It’s good seeing you again,” Aunt Marley beamed.

“You too, Aunt Marley,” Ahzii replied genuinely as Savior pulled out her chair. She sat gracefully, still scanning the room.

“You know the twins and Taylor, that’s my cousin Macho and his wife Kylie, remember Liv and that’s her husband Daniel, and my big-headed sister’s nigga, Chris,” Savior said, smirking.

Ahzii laughed softly. “Nice to meet everyone.”

Each of them greeted her with smiles or nods in return.

“My parents, Selene and Saint,” he added, his voice cooler now.

Ahzii turned to them, offering another polite nod. “Hi.”

Saint leaned forward slightly. “Nice to finally meet you, Ahzii,” he said with practiced charm.

Selene didn’t speak. She only gave a tight smile, the kind that said I ’ m watching you more than welcome.

The tension wasn’t unbearable—not yet—but Savior knew his parents too well. It was only a matter of time.

A server entered with perfectly plated dishes—lamb chops, mashed potatoes, asparagus. Everyone began to eat, the clatter of silverware filling the silence like a ticking clock.

Then Selene spoke.

“So... Ahzii, right?” Her voice was laced with false warmth, sugary enough to rot teeth.

Ahzii looked up calmly. “Yes.”

Selene’s beauty was undeniable—elegant, poised—but Ahzii had heard enough to know not to be fooled. That beauty didn’t run deep.

“What exactly do you do?” Selene asked, still smiling, though her tone now carried a subtle edge.

Ahzii recognized it instantly. And she didn’t flinch.

“I’m an artist,” she said easily. “Tattoo artist on paper, but I work in multiple mediums.”

Sarai jumped in before Selene could press further, her voice bright with pride. “Yeah, Ma! She’s hosting an art showcase at Gold next month. You and Pops should come.”

Selene’s smile never reached her eyes. She didn’t respond.

“That’s dope,” Saint offered instead. “Art showcase, that’s big.”

Ahzii smiled and went back to her food, thinking the moment had passed.

It hadn’t.

“So that means you make your own money, right?” Selene asked suddenly, her tone cooler now, sharp enough to turn heads.

The energy at the table shifted. Ahzii felt it. So did everyone else .

She looked up. Calm. Controlled.

Across the table, Savior’s jaw tightened.

“Selene,” Aunt Marley said, her voice firm. A warning.

“What?” Selene blinked innocently. “I have to ask these questions. She knows who our family is. She can clearly see the life we’ve built.”

Savior’s grip on his fork tightened.

Ahzii’s gaze didn’t waver.

“I don’t mind answering,” she said, her voice soft, yet steady as steel. “Yes. I make my own money. And if you’re worried I’m here for monetary gain , you can stop worrying now. I’m very well-established on my own.”

The table went silent for a beat.

Even Saint nodded in approval, clearly surprised but impressed.

Selene sipped her wine without a word. “Just making sure,” she muttered.

“No need,” Ahzii countered matching her fire.

Savior turned to Ahzii, eyes scanning her face for any cracks. She looked back and gave him a quiet nod.

I’m good.

That was all he needed.

“How old are you, Ahzii?” Saint asked casually, glancing at her from across the table. “You look pretty young.”

Ahzii looked up, her smile tight. Why was she the only one getting grilled? Gold and Sin both had their partners present, yet no one questioned them.

“I’m thirty,” she replied evenly. “Some say that’s still young... but life forced me to grow up way before my time.”

“In what way?” Selene asked, tone deceptively curious.