10. Nairobi Crawford #2
She pressed her lips together as the realization began to sink in. This life Sterling had built for her was more fragile than she’d imagined. Her eyes shimmered with the threat of fresh tears.
A dull ache throbbed at the base of my skull. I pressed my fingertips to my temples and willed the tension to loosen.
Kenya let out a bitter laugh as she fought to keep her composure. “Well, it must be real bad if you’re calling me ‘Mama.’” She moved to the fridge, grabbed the half-empty bottle of wine, and poured herself a glass. “Sterling was many things, but reckless with money? I just can’t believe it.”
“You think I want this to be true?”
She took a long sip and leaned back against the counter. “It’s not like he was out buying boats or taking us on lavish vacations. We lived comfortably, yes. But not extravagantly. Where’d it all go?”
I hesitated. There was no way I could tell her about the kind of people Sterling owed—people who weren’t gracious enough to send overdue notices but showed up in the middle of the night to collect. Even if that meant taking your life.
“He was playing high roller games. Games that cost more than the house is worth. Now I’m tryna fix it before—” I stopped myself.
Someone gets killed.
Kenya’s shoulders sagged as she took another sip of wine. “I wish he’d told me but knowing him his pride wouldn’t let him. He probably thought he was protecting me.”
And what about me? I wanted to ask.
Silence settled between us again, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator.
I watched my mother as she stared into her wine, lost in thought, and tried to ignore the unease building in my chest. The Order had given me thirty-six hours.
I was nearing twenty-four and still no closer to finding myself out of this hole.
“I just need another week,” I said. “I can cover your bills for the next few months. But I’m going to get that money back.”
Kenya scanned my face, and I could see her looking at me as a mother—maybe seeing her child for the first time. “Just be careful. I know your father trained you for this life, but I still worry about you Nai.”
I swallowed against the tightness in my chest. “I’ll be fine,” I said, forcing a steadiness in my voice that I didn’t really believe.
She nodded, but her eyes didn’t leave mine. There was nothing left to say. Just two women standing in a kitchen trying to hold onto the piece of a life that a man who was supposed to protect them shattered.
Fontaine’s truck was parked in my spot when I pulled into the parking garage. Smoke curled from the blunt between his fingers, his eyes tracking me as my headlights washed over him. I parked in the visitor space across from him and barely had my bag in hand before he was out of his truck.
“Why’d you turn off the trackers?” he asked, stepping into my space.
I shrugged and made for the elevator. He caught my arm before I could press the button.
“What’s up with you?” he demanded, not hiding the concern in his voice. “You’ve been ignoring my calls and texts. Now you’re shutting down on me again? I thought we were past this, Kitten.”
I didn’t answer, but I let him pull me into his chest while we waited for the elevator.
“I just…I don’t want to think right now,” I said softly. “It’s too much, and I haven’t figured a way out of this. I just want to forget for a little while.”
He sighed and squeezed me a little tighter before slipping his hand into mine once the elevator stopped on my floor. Silently we walked to my door and he opened it with his copy.
“Go take a shower,” he ordered, slapping my ass lightly.
When I came back, dressed in a sports bra and leggings, he was already shirtless in gray sweatpants, scrolling through streaming apps.
My eyes lingered on him. The man was truly one of God’s favorites in the looks department—his muscular frame, his chest inked up in black and gray.
I knew every piece by heart. The compass on his ribs, Gunnar and Drea’s name scripted on his collarbone.
And the newest one I’d noticed the first time we slept together since I’d been back—a black kitten, curled up like it was sleeping.
“You gonna keep staring at me like a creep or come over here?” he asked without looking up.
I crossed the room and settled onto his lap, my fingers finding the tattoo before I could stop myself.
“When did you get this?” I asked.
He glanced down at my hand, then back at the TV. “A while ago.”
This man had permanently etched me into his skin, and somehow it made him sexier to me.
“Bear…” I straddled him, cupping his face.
“Tell me what you need, Kitten.” He shifted under me, and slid his hand to the back of my thigh.
“You,” I murmured, feeling his dick twitch at my response.
His tongue swept into my mouth just as his hands slid up my back and pulled off my sports bra. He kissed me like he was trying to pull every ugly thought out of my head.
I moaned and rocked my hips against him as he teased my nipple, rolling it between his fingers.
“Stop fuckin’ with me, Nai,” he growled, his tongue dragging up the curve of my neck.
My nails dug into his shoulders as I continued moving against the thick length straining through his sweats.
“Why does it feel so good with you?” I breathed, pressing my forehead to his.
He grunted and stood with me still wrapped around him. I bit back a laugh as he carried me into my bedroom. The streetlight poured in through the windows, washing his skin in gold as he slid off his sweats. I peeled off my bottoms and fell back against the pillows.
He climbed into the bed and brushed his knuckles against the slick heat between my thighs, sending a shiver down my spine.
“It feels good,” he said, kissing me, “because I’m yours.”
My breath hitched as he circled my clit, then pushed two fingers inside me. I cried out softly, my hips rising. His other hand wrapped gently around my neck.
“I hate that I miss you when you’re not around. You’re the only person I’ve ever felt safe with,” I whispered.
His grip on my neck tightened just enough to make my body hum. “You’re safe with me. You hear?” he rasped. “You’re mine, Nairobi. Doesn’t matter how many times you run—this shit’s mine. Been mine.”
He pulled his fingers from me and brought them to his lips, licking them clean. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, hooking my leg over his shoulder before easing himself inside. I gasped, my back arching off the bed.
Each stroke was deep—stretching me out and setting every nerve in my body into overdrive. I closed my eyes as I trembled beneath him.
“Look at me, Kitten,” he said, tapping my cheek. “I want you to see what you do to me.”
My eyes fluttered open to look up at him, and the expression on his face took my breath away. Like he’d burn down the world for me if I asked. Like he was silently telling me he’d fix everything broken thing inside me if I’d only let him. But I didn’t know if I could—he had more to lose than me.
“Get outta your head and focus on me,” Fontaine said, pinching my clit.
I clenched around him, my orgasm close now.
“Who you belong to?”
“Fuck, ‘Taine!” I cried out.
“Say it,” he growled, squeezing my neck.
“I’m yours, baby. Yours!”
“I love you,” he gritted—like the confession was ripped out of him.
I shattered around him, clenching tight and crying out his name as he followed with a groan, spilling inside me. He kissed me hard, like he didn’t care that I heard his admission.
But I’d always known he loved me. Even before I left him in New York. But hearing it cracked something open—and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to close it again.