Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
NAJI
W ith steam trailing behind me and a towel clinging to my damp skin, I stepped out of the bathroom. My eyes went wide, and Imanio froze—like we’d both just walked in on a secret neither one of us was supposed to see.
“Grapefruit gravy! Hot damn lemon legs!” I blurted, voice cracking as the outburst punched its way through my throat.
Imanio stood in the doorway, hands full of bags—some plastic, some brown paper, some even gift-wrapped like he’d gone on a mission.
His eyes flicked from my wet curls down to the towel and back up.
He looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to look away out of respect or keep looking out of something heavier, something darker.
“Oh,” Imanio said, voice low and completely void of remorse. I wasn’t trying to sneak a peek, but… you good?”
I nodded, water still dripping down my collarbone.
I gripped the towel tighter; cheeks flaming and heart pounding in places I didn’t want to admit.
“Yes. But you… you could’ve knocked.”
He held up the bags. “Hands full. You want pads or not?”
That’s when I noticed the giant pack of Always Maxi poking out of the side of a bag.
When Imanio handed them to me, he made it seem like the most casual thing in the world—no awkwardness, no dramatic sigh, no, “I risked my life in the feminine hygiene aisle for you” speech. Just… quiet understanding.
“Oh—um—y-yeah. Sorry. T-Thank you,” I stammered, voice hiccupping as a tic escaped in the form of a small, unexpected “Toilet paper’s overrated!”
Imanio smirked, a little smug but not in a cocky way—more like he was proud of himself for doing something right.
“Since I ain’t really been with a woman, I called Dess and she told me that during y’all cycle, sometimes y’all have crazy cravings. I assumed yo’ stomach got multiple personalities, so I grabbed everything. Healthy… unhealthy. Sour. Sweet. Salty.”
I chuckled at his thoughtfulness.
“T-Thank you, but… you could’ve just asked me instead. Although… Dess was right.”
“You’re right. I should have. Noted… for next time.”
Next time?
I stared at him, momentarily caught off guard by the implication.
This marriage… it’s real. There will be other cycles… other cravings… other next times .
Imanio reached inside the AT it was impulsive and honest.
“ Thank you… for getting me a phone. You d-d-don’t know how much this means.”
Imanio’s body stiffened for half a second, like I’d surprised him—I was sure I had. Maybe he hadn’t been hugged like that in a long time—genuinely, not out of fear or need, but out of gratitude.
Then… his arms came around me.
Slow at first, but strong. Imanio’s scent—clean cologne, leather, and something darker—filled my head. His warmth poured into me like hot tea in the middle of winter. His hand didn’t pat me or rub my back. He just held me. I didn’t want to let go, but I did.
I pulled back quickly.
Imanio eyes met mine, unreadable again. But something lingered in them… something soft. Something that made me think… maybe I wasn’t the only one changing.
“I figured I’d bring you something else too.”
Imanio reached into one of the bags and pulled out a weighted blanket, a lavender-scented stress balm, and even a small adult coloring book with fancy gel pens.
“You mentioned once that weighted things help calm your system down during bad days,” he added.
I stared, overwhelmed. My chest tightened—but not in the usual way. I didn't say it, but in that moment, I started seeing him in a different light; not just the kidnapper-turned-house-provider, but someone who was trying and saw me.
Imanio didn’t wait for a thank you; he just nodded toward the hallway.
“I was gonna ask… you wanna maybe watch a movie or two together later on.”
I blinked erratically. “A… movie?”
“Yeah. That is, unless you got a bedtime or something.”
I narrowed my eyes playfully.
He chuckled. “I just figured you might wanna get out this room for a while and clear your head. We don’t have to leave the house. I got a theater inside the crib.”
“Y-You do?”
Imanio smirked. “Yeah. Big screen, surround sound, seats that recline… all that good shit. Although Dess is the only one who takes advantage of the room.”
“Uh, o-okay. But what kind of movie?” I asked carefully.
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Whatever you’re into.”
I shifted on my feet, tugging my towel tighter around me. “H-Horror.”
That made him raise a brow.
“Horror? You? The girl who twitches and yells out random shit like ‘Stop tickling my kneecaps, devil!’ Wants to watch demonic possession and serial killers?”
“I didn’t say demonic,” I clarified quickly, trying not to laugh. “I said horror. T-There’s a difference.”
To my surprise, he grinned—really grinned, like something I said caught him off guard.
“You got taste. That’s my favorite genre too. I just don’t ever really have time for it.”
“S-Shame,” I mumbled.
“Exactly. So, tonight I’m making time. So get dressed, and I’ll come get you around five o’clock. I’d advise you to take a nap so you don’t fall asleep during the movies. I hate when folks do that shit.”
“Likewise,” I muttered with a smirk. “But I t-think I’m good.”
Imanio’s eyes dipped to the towel again, not even trying to be subtle.
His jaw flexed, but he nodded. “Aight. Five o’clock.”
“Five o’clock,” I repeated, gripping the edge of the towel a little tighter.
He stood there for a second longer than necessary… then finally turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Whew. I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.
I was beginning to appreciate the little things he did without making a big deal out of them. For instance, he would notice when my hands were twitching more than usual and start talking about something random to distract me. He also remembered the small details, like how I hated pulp in my juice.
Honestly? I didn’t expect him to be such a gentle kidnapper.
If there were Yelp reviews for that kind of situation, I’d give him a solid 3.
5 out of 5. One star deducted for holding me against my will—obviously.
Another half star for that time I had to use layered tissue like a broke college student because someone forgot I still bled monthly.
But the man did get me the pads and other essentials… so, 3.5 it is.
Not bad for a kidnapper with good taste and a soft spot for hygiene.
Nonetheless, I was starting to see that beneath all the money, muscle, and mystery, Imanio might’ve actually had a good heart. And worse? I was starting to trust it.
I walked over to the small collection of things Imanio had recently stocked in the room—some basic loungewear, a few outfits Dessign helped pick out, and a bag of full-sized bath and body products he bought after based on the list she made.
I reached for the one she said was gonna have me smelling like a whole meal and a midnight snack .
It was a whipped body butter with soft vanilla, warm musk, and a barely-there hint of cinnamon.
I smoothed it onto my freshly dried skin, and instantly my body felt like silk—soft, warm, and pampered.
The scent wrapped around me in a way that made me close my eyes.
I had no doubt Imanio would notice it. That thought alone made me blush.
I grabbed one of the soft matching sets from the drawer—a fitted black tank and some high-waisted lounge shorts.
It was casual, but cute enough to look like I tried without trying too hard.
The shorts hugged my hips just right, and the tank—well, the tank did what tanks do when you ain’t got on a bra.
I went to the mirror and pulled my curls up into a messy bun, letting a few strands fall around my face. It gave me that soft, effortless look. One final spritz of the body mist from the matching scent set, and I gave myself a once-over in the mirror.
Not too much. Not too little. Just enough to make someone stare… that someone being Imanio.
Five o’clock on the dot. Not five-oh-one. Not four-fifty-nine… But Five.
The knock on the door was slow and confident, as if Imanio weren’t asking for permission but simply giving me a heads-up.
Before I could even finish inhaling, the door creaked open and he strolled inside—hoodie gone, replaced with a crisp white tee.