He leaned back against my couch and looked me over in a way that made me feel wanted. “I’m not ashamed at all, and I definitely don’t give a fuck about anybody’s opinions.”
I laughed softly and looked down for a second because I was blushing too hard now.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I said, getting up. “Be right back.”
I went into the bathroom mostly because I needed to pee, but also because I wanted to blush in private. It had been a long time since a man looked at me like that and claimed what he wanted.
I shut the bathroom door, sat down, and finally let myself squeal silently.
After relieving myself, I wiped and my heart stopped when I saw the blood on the tissue.
I gasped, “No!”
I began to panic as I continued to wipe and saw more blood.
“Noooo,” I began to cry as I pulled my pants up.
I hurriedly washed my hands, then jerked the bathroom door open.
When Kam saw the look in my eyes and tears streaming down my face, he jumped up from the couch. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m bleeding,” I cried.
He looked as if he wanted to panic, but was holding it together for me. “Okay... You need to go to the ER.” Then he looked at my hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. I was trembling so hard my teeth were almost clicking. “You’re not driving. I’m taking you. C’mon.”
TARIQ “REEK” HORTON
I was getting into my truck on the block when Malik called. “Yeah?”
“The neighbors in her apartment.”
My hand paused on the steering wheel. “Word?”
“Yep. That live-in-the-gym-ass nigga. He just went inside.”
I looked out the windshield at nothing for a second.
Malik was the same security detail I had on her in Thailand, and when she moved into that condo, I kept him on her. A big, Black man sitting outside her apartment every day would raise too many flags with the neighbors and management and bring too much attention to who Ava is linked to. So, Malik placed discreet cameras in the hallway, and watched from outside in his car, keeping eyes on the building.
Over the last few weeks, he had told me how Ava and Kam worked out together damn near every day. He told me the nigga would walk her to her door after they left the gym. Sometimes he stepped inside for a few minutes. It looked innocent, but I hated hearing about it.
“How long he been in there?”
“Only a few minutes. He brought her some food. I heard on the camera he was delivered someone else’s food, so he thought he’d share it with her since it was so much.” Then Malik asked, “What you want me to do?”
Every territorial part of me wanted to tell him to go in there and kill that nigga.
But I kept it cool. “Fall back. It’s all good.”
Malik was quiet for half a second, probably knowing I, in fact, didnotthink it was all good.
“A’ight,” he finally replied.
I ended the call and sat there gripping the wheel.
Jealousy was a fucked-up feeling. I could handle anger. I knew what to do with that. But jealousy sat in a man differently. It made you feel stupid and exposed all at once. It made my thoughts turn petty and violent.
Kam kept hitting that spot in me every time I heard his name.
