Page 67 of Rose

Savior sat in his car, the engine silent, his mind racing a mile a minute with nothing but Ahzii’s face playing on repeat. He bowed his head, eyes closing, chest heavy like the air around him was too thick to breathe.

“Dear Lord… I know it’s been a minute since I’ve come to You, and that’s on me.

Thank You for everything, and I know You don’t approve of the way I live…

but this ain’t about me. This is more important than anything I could ever ask for.

I come to You humbly… asking that You cover Allure.

Protect her mind, her body, her heart. Give her the strength to push through whatever’s weighing on her right now.

Bring her back to me, Lord… because You know I need her more than anything in this world.

But if she was only meant to be a blessing for a season…

if she’s not mine to keep… thank You for letting me feel what real love feels like.

And I pray You heal her in ways I never could. ”

He sat there for a long moment after whispering “Amen,” like maybe God would answer right then and there. The weight of that prayer settled in his chest as he finally turned the key and drove away.

Even after praying, the truth stayed sharp in his gut, losing Ahzii wouldn’t just hurt. It would feel like a death sentence.

???

The next day..

“Keep your arm extended, Allure.” Savior’s voice was low, steady, as he stood behind her, his hands briefly guiding her grip before easing away.

It was a rare, quiet Saturday—no shop runs, no showcase plans, no interruptions.

Just them, the salt air from his private beach, and a neat row of cans lined up in the sand a dozen yards away.

It was only her second time holding a gun, but he could already see the difference in her stance. When Ahzii first asked him to teach her, he’d hesitated. The thought of her ever needing to defend herself put a knot in his chest. But she’d been determined, and Savior never broke a promise to her.

“Eyes on the target,” he reminded, his tone softer than the waves rolling in. Ahzii narrowed her gaze at the cans, her body tightening with focus.

Savior stepped back, watching her. The furrow in her brow, the way her lips parted slightly when she concentrated, he couldn’t stop the small chuckle that escaped.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, her arms still steady, her voice holding a playful bite.

“Focus, Allure. Never take your eyes off the target.” He tried to sound serious, but the curve of his mouth betrayed him.

“It’s hard to focus when you’re over there snickering in my ear.”

“Deep breath,” he said, ignoring her sass. “When you exhale… fire.”

She did exactly that—inhale, exhale, pull. The shot cracked through the air, but the can stayed upright, the bullet whizzing just shy of its mark.

“Fuck. This is hard.” She dropped her arms, frustration pulling at her shoulders.

“Taking a life isn’t easy.” His words carried a weight that made her glance up at him.

“I don’t want to take a life. I just want to defend mine,” she said, her lips pouting in defiance.

He leaned in and kissed that pout, slow and soft. “Allure, if you ever raise a gun at someone, intend to take their life. Because if they came for you once, they’ll come back.”

She gave a small nod, though her sigh was heavy. “Well… they’re coming back, because I suck at this.” She shoved the gun toward him, dead serious.

Savior chuckled, shaking his head. When she first asked to learn, she thought it was as simple as point and shoot. Now, she was realizing every pull of the trigger carried more than just aim, it carried consequence.

“You’ll get there, Allure. It’s only our second time, and you’re already better than I was the second time I ever shot.” Savior slid an arm around her waist, pulling her against him.

“Yeah? And how old were you when you learned?” she asked, tilting her head up at him.

“Seven… but—”

She smacked her lips. “Exactly. You were born to do this shit. Thanks, but you suck at making a person feel better.” She tried to pull away, but he caught her again.

“Oh, I know exactly how to make you feel better.” His voice dipped low, warm against her ear, and her cheeks heated instantly. She knew what he meant.

“Be serious, Sav. I’m never going to get this.” Her pout deepened, but he kissed it away.

“Stop pouting, with yo adorable ass. You’re gonna get it, I promise. It’s just focus, breathing control, and accuracy. ”

She rolled her eyes. “All the things I don’t have. I can’t focus with your fine ass watching me, I got asthma so breathing control is out the window, and accuracy? Clearly, we see how that’s going.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“And you think it’s funny? Maybe you need to find a new candidate for a wife. How can I call myself Mrs. Carter if I can’t even shoot like one?”

His smile slipped, and he reached down, pinching her ass.

“Ouch! Why do you always go for the ass? I have thighs too, you know.”

“And those,” he said without missing a beat, “are made for suffocating my face while I’m devouring that pussy from below.”

Her laughter came sharp and bright, but the heat between her thighs told on her. He didn’t give her time to recover before pulling her close, their lips just a breath apart.

“Why you always coming for my wife? Whether you learn to shoot or not, you’ll still be protected. You’ll still be Mrs. Carter. And I told you about disrespecting me, Allure… stop doing that shit.”

She grinned, snapping a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

“Yo ass so goofy.” He shook his head, but there was no hiding the smile tugging at his mouth.

They kissed again, laughter still lingering between them, and when he handed her the gun once more, his voice dropped into that patient, commanding tone she loved. “Breathe… and let it go, baby.”

She followed his lead, the world around them fading to nothing but the crash of waves, the crack of gunfire, and the kind of love that made her feel unstoppable.

Ahzii wiped at her cheeks, but the tears just kept coming, hot and relentless.

That day on the beach with Savior kept flashing in her mind—how safe she felt, how loved, how whole.

Back then, she thought she’d found her second chance at love.

Back then, she never would’ve believed that same man could be the reason for the deepest wound she’d ever carry.

The reason her baby girl never took another breath.

How could he? How could Savior sit across from her, look her dead in the eyes with all that love burning in them, kiss every scar she ever tried to hide, listen to her talk about the daughter she lost… all while knowing he was the reason she was gone?

Still, as she scrolled through their pictures from his birthday at Disney World, she couldn’t stop the ache in her chest. Couldn’t stop loving him.

That was the part that cut the deepest. This pain— this betrayal —was worse than the grief she’d felt when she thought William was dead.

At least back then, she could bury her pain in the idea that William never chose to leave her.

But this? This was her heart ripping in two while still beating for the man who’d destroyed her.

William came home an hour later last night, not saying where he’d been, and a part of her didn’t care enough to ask.

He made dinner she barely touched. And while she showered, her mind betrayed her again, playing reel after reel of Savior’s hands on her body, her back against cool tile, water streaming over their skin as his mouth claimed hers like he’d never let her go.

Three nights ago, she’d felt alive under his touch.

Now, the memory was a knife twisting in her chest.

When she climbed into bed beside William, it felt wrong.

Foreign. She used to crave his warmth, the way he’d curl himself around her belly when she was pregnant, his lips pressing into her forehead when he thought she was asleep.

Back then, his arms were peace. But last night, peace didn’t live there anymore.

Every second she lay there, she was thinking of Savior.

It pissed her off. Irritated her down to the bone. Savior should’ve been the last man in the world she thought about, especially after what he’d done. Yet here she was, replaying their moments, staring at pictures, rereading messages until she had to block him just to stop herself from answering.

She didn’t know why her heart was still chained to him. Why she still wanted him when her husband was right here, breathing, alive. The same husband who’d been ripped away from her because of Savior. Logic told her she should hate him. Her heart… refused.

The bedroom door creaked open and William stepped in, balancing a tray of breakfast and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. Ahzii’s thumb moved fast, closing out the photos of her and Savior before he could see.

“Good morning, Beautiful. Brought you breakfast,” William said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thank you.” Her voice was low as he set the tray in front of her and sat down. She wasn’t hungry, but she forced herself to pick up a piece of bacon, biting it just so he wouldn’t ask.

It didn’t work.

“You good, baby?” His voice was soft, eyes searching her face like he was peeling back layers she didn’t want him to touch.

“Yeah… yeah. Why you ask?” she said, her voice cracking slightly as she reached for the juice.

“Because I can see it in your eyes. You’ve been crying. And you were tossing and turning all night. Is it me? Am I not good enough for you anymore? I know it’s been a year—”

“No, William.” She cut him off before the words could sink their claws any deeper.

“It’s nothing to do with you not being good enough.

It’s just… a lot has happened the last few days, and I’m trying to wrap my head around it all.

I just… miss my family. Maybe I can go see them today, before we leave tomorrow. ”