Third? Rest.
I could convince Kenji to sleep. And once he did, maybe the rest would follow. Perhaps, these killers would close their eyes and get the sleep they needed to truly win this war.
Alright. Is there anything else I could do. . ? Perhaps I could could remind them that they are still men.
Not machines.
Not monsters.
Men.
With lungs, hearts, and mothers who hopefully once kissed their foreheads goodnight. Men who needed warmth. Who craved softness but didn’t know how to ask for it anymore.
Kenji especially.
He would never say the wordsI’m scared.But already, I knew I would see it in the tension of his shoulders. In the way his breath stilled when plans went sideways.
In the way he drank coffee instead of sleeping last night.
I could care for him without making him weak. I could love him without making myself small.
Because Black women had been doing that for generations. Holding shit down without being thanked. Tending to wounds no one could see. Keeping empires running through casseroles, warnings, and silent, bone-deep prayers.
That’s what I could bring to this war.
Not firepower.
But firelight.
Not armor.
But aloe.
Not fear.
But fierce-ass love.
Yep. That’s it.
More confident in my being in the war room now, I continued forward, yet I still didn’t see Kenji in this massive space. But, I didfeelhim. The way heat tells you there’s a flame even before you see it.
Where are you? I already know you are watching me. You probably saw me right when I stepped inside.
And so I kept walking, eyes straight ahead. Men parted without realizing they had. The 3D display curved around and I went in that direction.
Then I saw him.
Oh.
All the way in the back of the room.
Kenji leaned casually against a large black desk scattered with guns, bullet clips, rope and what looked like three different bloodied knives.
Behind him, a curved screen glowed with security footage and maps, bathing his face in cold light. And his gaze was nothing but erotic fire.
Mmmm. Yeah. I thought you were watching me. Do you like this outfit?
He wasn’t listening to the man speaking urgently at his right—a tall, clean-shaven guy, dressed in all white. His hair fell down to his waist in one long braid.
