“If we go to war, it won’t be a fair fight,” he said.
“Let’s face it. It’s never been a fair fight. We’ve always been the stronger club, but at this point, I’m ready to wipe you niggas out completely. We had over a decade of peace with no open conflict, but we’ve had three in three years because you’re a piss poor leader, and your people don’t respect you. Your only option to end this shit with the least amount of bloodshed is if you bring him to me.”
“I don’t know where he is.”
“You have forty-eight hours to deliver him. The clock starts now.”
“What are you still doing up?” I asked Rose when I entered the bedroom.
“Waiting for you.”
I kissed her forehead, then undressed.
“How do you feel?”
“My jaw is sore, but other than that, I feel fine.”
When I was down to my boxer briefs, I sat next to her on the edge of the bed. I turned on the bedside lamp to get a better look at her face. It would probably be swollen and bruised for a few days, but I was glad this was the worst of it.
“Did you ice again?”
“A few times.”
“Good. I’m about to shower. Get some rest. We can talk more in the morning.”
I pressed a soft kiss against her lips before heading to the shower. Ten minutes later, I crawled into bed. Rose was facing away from me, and when I got comfortable, I pulled her body against mine.
Everything about us felt right. She was home, and I couldn’t let her go again. At this point, I was willing to take whatever she was willing to give, just to have her in my arms like this every night.
I prayed that whatever she wanted to talk to me about today had nothing to do with us being apart and everything to do with us spending the rest of our lives together. Eventually, I fell asleep, with thoughts of a future with Rose heavy on my mind.
For the second morning in a row, she left me in bed alone. This time, I smelled food and heard sounds from the TV, so I knew she hadn’t ducked out on me again.
After relieving my bladder, washing my face, and brushing my teeth, I pulled on some basketball shorts and found Rose on the couch watching old-school cartoons.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
I kissed her forehead before she responded.
“Good morning. You have no food, so I went up to the main house and stole some bacon, eggs, and pancake mix. They hadplenty, so I don’t think they’ll miss it. Your plate is in the microwave.”
“Thank you. I’m starving. Come to the kitchen with me while I eat.”
I helped her from the couch, and she followed me to the kitchen. While she sat at the table, I put my food in the microwave, set the timer for one minute, and leaned against the counter. I studied Rose’s face, noticing the swelling had gone down some, but her eyes were red and puffy.
“Have you been crying, baby?”
She nodded. “I’ve been sitting here thinking and mentally preparing for the conversation we’re about to have.”
The microwave beeped, and I removed my plate, got a fork from the drawer, and sat across from Rose at the table. I took a few bites of my food, but between the silence and the look on Rose’s face, I damn near lost my appetite.
“Fuck this food. I can finish it later, and we can talk now.”
“No. I want you to eat first.”
She stood and moved around the kitchen while I ate. I watched as she nervously wiped down my counters and put dishes away. When she began cleaning things that didn’t need to be cleaned, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto my lap so that she straddled me.
“I’m done eating. Do you want to talk here or go somewhere more comfortable?”
