I didn't doubt they loved each other. I would be foolish to think two people who've known each other for twenty years didn't hold some type of affection between them. Still, that's all it was. Two old friends clinging to history out of familiarity, instead of two souls choosing each other. Navy was the woman he needed to survive. Honor survived. It was now time for him to live, and in my humblest opinion, he would never truly live as long as he was with Navy.
"Choyce, do you understand me?" he sneered.
"I understand." It was barely audible, but Honor must've heard it because his hold on the gun loosened.
"Speak on my relationship again, and death will be the least of your problems," he harshly warned.
My breathing stuttered, feeling his spit hit my lips. I smirked, unable to keep the question that plagued my mind from coming out.
"When you look back decades from now, what do you want to remember? A life where you only survived… or one where you actually lived?"
Honor cocked his head, his stare slipping toward the water as he moved the gun from my chin. I released a shaky exhale, and my shoulders slumped forward as relief set in.
"A life filled with family and happiness is all I want. Survival already robbed me of too many years." Honor's tone dropped. A calm washed over his features as his guard slipped. "I wanna live screaming fuck regrets and be confident in the moves I make and not have to worry how three other people gon' feel 'bout what I do."
"And you think you can have that life with Navy?"
Tipping his head back, Honor scratched his jawline with the barrel of the gun.
"You got a muthafuckin' death wish, huh?" he said, offering me a mirthless chuckle.
"Maybe." I shrugged, ignoring the nervous fluttering in my stomach. "Maybe I'm just the person who questions the things everyone else ignores." I held his stare and caught the glint of curiosity before it vanished. "I told you before, I'm not here to heal you. This…" I looked downward toward the gun as his fingers twitched against it. "…Is who you are. This brash nature is who you are. You hide it and make excuses for your behavior because you knowshedoesn't like it. I get it, but I'm not afraid. I want you, Honor. In my arms… in my life… in my pussy. I want you, Hon… ahhh!" I yelped as my head snapped back.
Honor's grip on my hair was merciless, making it impossible to tilt my head forward. My heart hammered as the barrel kissedmy lips. Without hesitation, Honor shoved it forward, forcing my lips apart.
"Open your fucking mouth," he growled through clenched teeth.
Beads of sweat glistened on my forehead as the taste of metal coated my tongue.
"Fuck was all that?” Slowly, Honor twisted the gun, forcing my lips into the perfect circle. "Suck it," he hissed.
The gun's barrel crawled over my tongue, and for every millimeter he pushed into my mouth, an electrifying throb pulsed between my legs.
"You talk heavy like a nigga won't bust one in your oropharynx, blow out the back of your neck, then pick up Cherish and bring her home to Navy. Is that the type of shit you want a nigga to do?"
Every word strummed along my nerves like ice dragging across bare skin. His threat shouldn't have excited me, but it did. At this point, this was foreplay. Spit slipped from the corners of my mouth as I sucked. I waited for sanity to snap me out of this trance, but it never came. I gagged and stuck my tongue out, desperately wanting more of the way he watched me like I was the downfall he'll chase with open arms. A treacherous smirk curved across his face like lust with a loaded clip.
Honor leaned in close, sibilating into my ear, "Is that what you want from me, Choyce? To blow your fucking esophagus out?"
My eyes watered from how far back he pushed the gun. I couldn't answer him as heat soaked my panties.
"Choyce—"
"What do we have here?"
Caught up in the moment, Honor and I never heard Lucian until it was too late. My eyes shifted in his direction. Lucianstood dressed in expensive black Italian fabric as if it were someone's funeral.
"Do I have to repeat myself?" he asked in a tone void of emotion.
"Honor," I choked out, trying my best to take control of the situation.
Honor didn't flinch. His eyes didn't waver from mine. He was unbothered by Lucian's presence and was still making his point.
"Since Choyce can barely utter a name, why don't you spare us the silence and explain why my picchistore (enforcer) has a gun shoved down the throat of my number two. And before you oppose, I'd rather not draw my own conclusion. It won't be in your favor, and you won't have the chance to correct me."
"I'm teaching a lesson," Honor responded. "A lesson learned with violence goes unrepeated. You taught me that, no?" His stare landed on Lucian, and he returned the look with a proud smile.
"And what lesson is being taught?" Lucian asked.
