Because I know what that man’s life looked like. Secrets and anger, intertwined with shame and damage he never took responsibility for. I will never model myself after a man who destroyed everything he touched because he was a coward.
So I sit there, engine off, watching Zaria step outside and I make a decision. If I want them—both of them. I’m firm and unapologetic in my yearning. It has to be open, full, and unconditional. No hiding and no shame. Because anything less than that isn’t love. If nothing else, they’ll learn that I don’t do anything halfway.
I snap out of my thoughts when I notice the same drunk idiot from earlier staggering from the shadows. His eyes lock onto Zaria as she owes him something. And he’d been waiting tocollect. I watch his shoulders square, his mouth moving too fast, his hands too loose at his sides.
He corners her near the brick wall by the side entrance, too close, crowding her space. I see her hands come up, palms out, hear her voice sharpen.
“Get the fuck away from me! Don’t fucking touch me!”
He doesn’t listen.
Men like that never do.
He sneers, words slurring, voice loud enough to carry. His hand lifts—trying to make it way underneath her shirt to cop a feel.
Men like this are always peculiar because while he’s trying to take what doesn’t belong to him—he’s also yelling transphobic slurs and telling her nobody will every love or claim her. The belligerent entitlement is thick in every drunken word. Zaria shoves at his chest, panic flashing across her face as he presses closer.
I’m already moving. He was so busy trying to harm a woman for not wanting him that he didn’t realize I was now feet away from him. When my eyes connected with Zaria she knew she was safe and her body relaxed.
I’m now standing behind him with a .357 pointed at his head.
“Bitch ass nigga I’d hate to have to leave your brains on the sidewalk for trying to touch what’s mine,” I barked with a low and menacing growl.
At that moment, the drunk fool manages to sober up and throw his hands up in surrender.
“Nah. Don’t surrender now. Be the same piece of shit who was going to assault my woman because she said no.”
I didn’t miss the shock on Zaria’s face when I called her my woman. I smirked before pistol-whipping the loser and leaving him lying on the pavement as a gash bled out
“She’s already claimed and love. Well protected too,” I add before kicking him in the stomach.
“You okay, gorgeous?”
She nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I think so.”
I don’t miss the way her hands are still shaking.
“Where’s your car,” I ask gently.
She exhales. “I don’t have one. I was waiting on my Lyft. I just needed some air.”
“Cancel it,” I say without hesitation. “I’ll take you home.”
She hesitates, pride and caution warring on her face.
“I’ll feel better getting you got home safe,” I add quietly. “Please.”
She studies me for a moment, then nods. “Okay.”
I walk her to my car, keeping my body between her and the street, opening the door for her without comment. As she gets in, I catch the look on her face.
Surprised and grateful but still guarded. And something else. Something that tells me she heard what wasn’t said out loud.
I start the engine, already knowing one thing with absolute clarity. No one gets to scare or harm her and walk away untouched by consequence. And no one gets to treat her like she’s disposable while I’m standing in the room.
Not tonight.
Not ever.
