With a slight nod, I sigh.
I explain what I heard: the drugs, the race, and his name.
Everything that made my stomach knot with worry and anxiety. Reliving what I went through a few hours ago is making my body shake, and my heart rate spike. Clearly, it was a good choice to stay home from work.
“What happened then?”
“I almost crashed into them when leaving the parking lot. When I hit the highway, I saw that they were behind me, following closely. When I changed lanes, so did they. One time they speed toward me, then broke harshly, scaring me.”
“That is why you called me.” I nod. “Fuck, I’m sorry, baby.”
“Grady is looking into it.”
“I will let Pres know. Can you give me the details on the vehicle?” I nod again.
“Now you.” I sound brave, but I feel anything but, as my body shakes.
I need to, for my own sanity.
He nods. “Two days ago, Valarie came to the club; one of her crew beat her up. Bolt, our medic, treated her, but she has been anything but happy to be there. Snapping at people, but being sweet as pie with me. The brothers think she is a plant. I wasn’t so sure at first, but now I have to agree with them. I was in my room alone when she came in, when on the phone with you. It was innocent, baby, I swear to you. I have not touched her. Or anyone,” he tacks on the end.
“That.” I point to his jaw.
He tilts his head back, groaning, his hands go to his trim waist. Agitation and frustration roll off him.
“Val knew I was coming to see you, and just before I pulled off, she fucking kissed my jaw. She fucking knew. Savage saw it, you can ask him, he will not lie to you. Believe me.”
The sincerity in his voice makes me melt a little toward him. His explanation seems legit, but I seem to be a shitty judge of character with some men.
“You haven’t touched her?”
He comes to me, the tip of his boots touching my bare toes.
“No, baby.” His hands cup my jaw, and my body freaking melts like it needs his touch.
Images of Val kissing him flash through my mind. Even if he says it was innocent, or just a game by her, I hate that she is with him. And how did she know about his collarbone tattoo?
My head spins at the still unanswered questions, and right now, I need to think. For the last two days, I have been imagining the worst.
“I need some time.” My voice is low, but he hears me.
Sighing, he kisses my forehead, his lips lingering.
His body is tight, clearly not liking that I will not let him back in right now. Men always think things are black and white when in fact things can get blurred and become grey.
“I need to tell Pres what you have told me. I know that what happened to Val and you are connected. She is playing a fucking game, I just don’t know what it is yet.”
I say nothing, because what does one say to that? This is his world, not mine.
“I will give you some space. Maybe a day, or two, but I am coming back to you, baby. Nothing will keep me away anymore.”
“We’ll see.” Pulling back, he grips my face gently, making me look at him.
A smirk plays on his lips, before he leans in kisses the corner of my mouth, then my ear.
“I will be back, Stevie, and you will be screaming my name again. You can bet on that.”
A burst of heat floods through my body at his words. A warning and a promise all in one, if not a good time and a few O’s.
