I grinned, slow and wide.
“Good girl.”
I ain’t never believed in no higher power. God? That was a story they told us in the hood to keep us scared and quiet. I wasn’t the type to pray, and I damn sure didn’t kneel for no man or spirit. I believed in blood and love—my kind of love—the kind that burned slow and scarred deep. That was my gospel.
Yummi could believe in whatever she wanted. The ocean, the stars, her dead brother looking down from somewhere. But before she put her faith in any of that, she was going to believe in me.Me first. Me always. Tonight, I was going to show her the type of love I was on.
I grabbed a knife off the table—just a slim, sharp blade that I cut up coke with. I put the knife to her hand. She flinched at first, but I shook my head. My voice was smooth.
“Relax. It’s just us. Just a lil promise between you and me. You trust me, right?”
Her breath hitched, but she nodded. “Yeah... I trust you.”
I held out my palm and sliced it clean. Dark, warm blood welled up. Then, I handed her the blade.
“Your turn.”
She hesitated for half a second, but then she took it as her hands shook a little. She lightly pressed the blade to her skin, scared at first, then deeper. Blood welled up on her palm.
I took her hand in mine, pressed our palms together. The blood mixed, dripping slowly down our wrists.
“You mine now, Yumila. You understand?”
Her voice was barely a whisper. “I understand.”
“Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
Her eyes closed, her body sank into the couch, and I had her right where I wanted her.
I kissed her wrist, slow, deliberate, tasting the salt and iron on her skin.
“You belong to me now. Ain’t no Mula, no runs to The Shadows, ain’t no streets. Just me and you, so find your replacement.”
She didn’t say anything. She just leaned back, her breathing slowed like she was finally letting herself feel safe... like I was the only thing holding her together.
She wasmine to build back up,my way.
Our blood dripped slowly, mixing like the waves crashing outside. I held her hand and gripped it tight like I was anchoring her to me, like the whole world could spin off its axis, but I wasn’t letting her go.
I moved on her, letting the tension stretch tight. My fingers trailed up her thigh, across the soft skin of her waist, smearing the blood from our hands onto her body. She shivered—half from the cold, half from the heat.
“You don’t even know what you do to me, Yumila...”
Her lips parted, and she let out the softest, breathy sound—like a whimper caught in her throat. Her hands gripped my shirt, pulling me closer like she couldn’t stand the space between us.
I didn’t wait for any more permission. I kissed her hard and rough, like I was starving for her, like I needed her to feel what I couldn’t say out loud. She kissed me back, deep and messy. Her tongue tangled with mine, and the taste of Henny and blood mixed on our lips.
I slid my hands down, gripped the back of her thighs, and pulled her closer until she was straddling me. Her little black tank top rode up her waist. Her shorts were halfway off, like she didn’t even care anymore. Her breath was cold on my neck, and her nails scratched down my chest, leaving marks Iwantedher to leave.
She rocked her hips slowly at first, then harder, gasping into my mouth like she was breaking apart.
“Fuck, Hosea…” she whispered, hoarsely, and breath ragged.
I grabbed her face, made her look at me dead in my eyes. There was no running, no hiding.
“You mine now, Yummi. You hear me?”
