“You thought I was playin’ with you?” Love barked. “Why the fuck you stayin’ around for, thinkin’ she gonna come back to you?”
Gio was pissed. He swung and caught Love in the jaw, but that shit only made it worse for him.
Love rushed him harder, tackling him into a table by the TV.
Everything flipped. My heart was beating so hard I felt sick, never seeing no shit like this. Any fight in Cali that Gio was in, that nigga won.
But Love.
Love had no emotions like Gio had. He wasn’t sloppy like Gio looked. He was in control. Every punch he threw looked planned, like he already knew how it was gonna end.
Gio was still fucked up from before, so it didn’t take long before Love completely overpowered him.
Blood covered Gio’s mouth while he tried to breathe through swollen lips.
Love stopped for a second while Gio tried to get up off the ground, and a smile came over Love’s face.
Love grabbed Gio by his shirt, pulled him to the door, and threw him out into the hallway. Gio laid down on the floor, and Love sat him up, cocking his Glock in his face.
That sound alone made my stomach drop.
“You got five minutes,” Love said coldly. “Grab your shit and get the fuck outta my city.”
Gio looked up slow, breathing hard, blood still running down his face.
But his eyes weren’t on Love.
They were locked on me. I could feel my chest tighten again.
Like he was trying to talk me without words.
Love noticed that shit too, and stepped in front of me immediately and slapped that nigga across his face with his Glock one time.
“Your eyes don’t even need to look in her direction anymore. You need to look at me, nigga.”
The hallway was dead silent. Even Bully looked serious.
“You got it,” Bully said. “I’ma take him home. This shit is done.”
“It better be,” Love said as I walked over, wrapping my arm around his. “Because next time, nigga, I promise I’ma put you under the hotel.”
Love stared at Gio for another second while Bully helped him up, then he placed his Glock in the front of his pants before we headed to the elevator.
We hopped in, and Love yelled out, “Five fuckin’ minutes.” As the doors closed.
The ride downstairs was silent. My heart still hadn’t calmed down, neither had his.
Once we got back in the car, Love shut the door hard and leaned back against the seat, gripping the steering wheel.
Neither of us spoke at first, then he finally looked over at me.
“Do you look at me different now?” he asked low.
I shook my head instantly. “No, baby.”
Love studied my face for a second like he was trying to see if I was lying.
“I told you I was gonna handle it,” he muttered.
