There wasn’t a hoodie or shades masking the beauty that plagued me for the last five days. It was untamed. Raw. Refreshing. Riveting. Far better than I’d imagined. It deemed me speechless. Rendered me breathless. And, dismantled my claims of being heartless.
I had a heart. But, I wasn’t sure for how long. It was expanding in my chest by the second, threatening to explode. I’d be left with pieces. So many pieces. Too many pieces. And, a hole in my chest that would serve as a memorial for what that handsome stranger destroyed.
It’s him. I internalized.
“It’s her.”
Ishmael wasn’t looking at me. He was looking through me. His gaze penetrated me, searching for parts of me I’d tucked away because I hadn’t stumbled upon anyone deserving of them.
“Yeah, the person I was telling you about,” Indigo explained. “She’s going to be handling th–”
“No–” Ishmael countered.
Ishmael. I let roam in my head.Ishmael.
The name was fitting.
Firstborn son. Promised to father a great nation with descendents spread across the desert. Preserved in the wilderness. Destined for greatness.
“God hears,” I whispered, barely above a breath.
“He does,” Ishmael replied.
Taken aback by his sudden closeness, I collected the oxygen he provided. He’d taken all I had. It was only right that he replenished me.
“You know her?” Indie asked.
Without taking his eyes off me, Ishmael unlocked the cell that appeared in his hand. He scrolled before handing it to Indigo. His brother’s eyes swelled. They bounced between my face and the cell.
Baffled, I cleared my throat and dug deep for a suitable response.
“Oh damn,” Indigo gasped.
“Would you like to fill me in on why I’m here or keep passing around a cel–”
Thoughts of his occupation claimed me. Inwardly, I found it amusing that I wasn’t too far fetched.
Mayor.
Cop.
Same difference.
On the other side of the law, regardless. I could smell his political ties from a mile away. It wasn’t pork but it was close enough.
“I received a call this morning. Someonewasfollowing me that night. And, unfortunately, they captured our entire night.”
Mercer’s movement caught my attention. With furrowed brows, he requested an explanation.
“Mr. Grayson,” I began, witnessing the disappointment on Ishmael’s face.
He wasn’t fond of the name that rolled off my tongue.
“Was lost. I helped him find his way.”
“And someone caught it all on camera, claiming I was paying for pussy.”
Disgust replaced the disappointment on Ishmael’s face.
