I kicked him again. And again. Would’ve kept going if she hadn’t said my name.
I forced myself to step back. Breathe. Focus.
Went back to her and pulled her up into my arms. She collapsed against my chest, her whole body shaking.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I should’ve called you. I didn’t want to bother you and?—”
“What the fuck were you thinking?” My voice came out hard and cold. “Coming here by yourself? After I told you not to?”
“I know?—”
“Nah, you don’t know. You could’ve died tonight, Zahara. You understand that?” I gripped her chin, made her look at me. “If you hadn’t grabbed that knife when you did, this would be you on that floor. Not him.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
I pulled her back against me, my anger fading into something else. Something protective and possessive that I didn’t have words for.
“Tell me what happened,” I said, my voice low. “Everything.”
She told me. About thinking I’d walked in. About Larry cornering her. Threatening her. Forcing himself on her. Trying to pull her pants down.
Every word made me want to bring that nigga back to life just so I could kill him again. Slower this time. Torture his fat-ass like I used to get paid to do.
“He was on top of me and I couldn’t—” Her voice broke. “I grabbed the knife and just?—”
“Stop.” I tilted her face up. “You did what you had to do. That’s it. Let go of any guilt and regret. That nigga tried to rape you and you defended yourself. Period.”
“But I killed someone, Prime.”
“Nah. You survived. That’s all that matters.” I wiped her tears with my thumb. “Now listen to me. You’re going home. You’re gonna act like nothing happened. Send Yusef to school in the morning. Don’t change shit. Don’t call nobody. Don’t tell nobody. You understand?”
“What about—” She looked at Larry’s body.
“I said I got it. Don’t worry about him. He’s already gone.”
“Prime, you can’t just?—”
“I can and I will. Question is, do you trust me?”
“Yes, but?—”
“Then trust me to handle this.” My hands tightened on her shoulders. “You were home tonight. With Yusef. That’s the story. That’s what happened. Say it back to me.”
“I was home with Yusef.”
“Again.”
“I was home with Yusef all night.”
“Good. Now, you working tomorrow?”
“No. I’m off.”
“Then stay home. Stay with your son. Act normal. I’ll come through when I’m done handling this.”
I gave her the keys to my car and told her to drive home.
“Go,” I said. “I’ll text you when it’s done.”
