TRUTH #3
Amai lowered his arm and looked at me.
His expression was serious now. Dangerous.
“You know you done fucked up, right?”
I stopped laughing.
“What?”
He sat up slowly, his eyes locked on mine, and there was something dark and predatory in his gaze.
“You just declared war, baby,” he said quietly. “And I don’t lose.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
Not fear.
Anticipation.
“Bring it,” I whispered.
Amai’s smile was slow and wicked.
“Oh, I will.”
Although Amai tried to play it off, I knew exactly what he meant by I just fucked up. His ass was already insane about me, and tonight turned him into a full-blown lunatic for sure.
I woke to warmth.
Not the oppressive heat of summer in New Orleans, but the kind of warmth that came from another person’s body pressed against yours. The kind that made you feel safe, even when the world outside was falling apart.
Amai’s arm was draped across my waist, his chest rising and falling steadily against my back. His breath was soft against my shoulder, and for a moment—just a moment—I let myself sink into the feeling.
This was surreal.
After everything that had happened—the clinic explosion, the warehouse war, the violence, the sex that had left us both wrecked—I was lying in Amai Landry’s arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And, somehow, it felt right.
Like this was the missing piece in my life I didn’t know I needed.
I’d spent so long trying to survive on my own. Trying to rebuild after Phillip destroyed me. Trying to prove I didn’t need anyone.
But lying here, wrapped in Amai’s arms, I realized something.
I didn’t need him to survive.
I needed him because I wanted him.
And that was terrifying.
Amai stirred behind me, his arm tightening around my waist as he pulled me closer. His lips brushed against my shoulder, soft and tender, and I felt my coochie jump.
“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.”
He kissed the curve of my neck, slow and deliberate, and I felt heat pool low in my belly.
“You sleep okay?”
“Better than I have in weeks.”
It was the truth. Despite everything—despite the chaos and the danger and the uncertainty—I’d slept like the dead. No nightmares. No panic. Just… peace.
Amai’s hand moved to rest on my stomach, his palm warm against my skin.
“Good,” he said quietly. “You need rest. All of you.”
I placed my hand over his, our fingers intertwining.
“What about you? Did you sleep?”
“Enough.”
I turned in his arms so I could see his face. He looked tired—there were shadows under his eyes, and the tension in his jaw told me he was already thinking about what came next.
“You have to go, don’t you?”
He nodded slowly. “I’ve got business to take care of. Aftermath from last night. Victor and Rahsaan are still out there, and Winston—” He stopped himself, his brows furrowing. “I need to handle some things.”
“Okay.”
He studied my face, his eyes searching. “You gonna be alright here?”
“I’ll be fine. Actually, I need to go out anyway.”
His expression shifted immediately—subtle, but I caught it. The way his body tensed. The way his eyes sharpened.
“Go out where?”
“I need to buy a laptop for my classes. I’m officially back in school, remember?”
Amai’s hand moved to cup my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek.
“I can have a tech come by with equipment. Top of the line. Whatever you need. They’ll set everything up for you.”
I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes.
“I appreciate that. But I like going out to shop. I want to pick it out myself.”
“Truth—”
“I need normalcy, Amai.” My voice was firm but not unkind. “I need to feel like I’m still a person who can go to the store and buy a laptop without it being a whole production.”
He was quiet for a long moment, his jaw working like he was trying to find the right words.
“Alright,” he said finally. “But you take someone with you.”
I pulled back slightly, my eyes narrowing.
“While we’re on the subject…” I kept my tone casual, but I watched his face carefully. “Do I have men following me?”
Amai’s expression didn’t change, but I saw the flicker of something in his eyes.
Hesitation.
“Yes.”
The admission was quiet. Matter-of-fact.
Like he’d been waiting for me to ask.
“Men?” I repeated, my voice sharpening. “As in plural?”
His jaw tightened. “Yes.”
“How many?”
“Several.”
I sat up, pulling the sheet around me, and turned to face him fully.
“Several. And how long has this been going on?”
“Since the clinic.” He sat up, too, his eyes locked on mine. “Since the moment you walked out, and I realized you were vulnerable.”
“Vulnerable,” I repeated, my voice flat.
“You’re carrying a Landry baby, Truth. That makes you a target. Victor knows. Rahsaan knows. And they’re not the only ones.”
“So, you put a surveillance team on me without telling me.”
“I put protection on you,” he corrected, his voice hardening. “There’s a difference.”
“Not to me.”
“Truth—”
“Remove them.”
The words came out sharp and final, and I watched Amai’s expression shift.
His eyes darkened. His jaw clenched. And for a moment, I thought he was going to refuse outright.
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said no.” His voice was calm, but there was steel underneath. “I’m not removing them. Not when Victor and Rahsaan are still out there. Not when you’re carrying my kids.”
“Our kids,” I corrected. “And I’m not asking, Amai. I’m telling you. I won’t live in a cage.”
“This isn’t a cage—”
“It is if I don’t have a choice.”
We stared at each other, the tension thick between us.
I could see the war happening behind his eyes. The instinct to control, to protect, to keep me locked down where he could see me at all times.
But I also saw something else.
Conflict.
Because he knew—he knew—that if he pushed too hard, I’d walk.
And he couldn’t lose me.
Not now.
“I understand the danger,” I said quietly, my voice softening. “I do. But I can’t live like this, Amai. I can’t have men watching my every move, reporting back to you, treating me like I’m some kind of prisoner.”
“They’re not—”
“That’s what it feels like.”
He exhaled slowly, his hand running over his face.
“What do you want?”
“I want them off my property. I don’t want to see them. I don’t want to feel them watching me.”
“Truth—”
“I’m not done.” I held his gaze. “They can’t report my personal activities to you. Where I go, who I see, what I do—that’s my business. Not yours.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“They can only intervene if I’m in immediate danger. Real danger. Not just because they think I’m making a bad decision or going somewhere you wouldn’t approve of.”
Amai was silent for a long moment.
I could see the struggle written all over his face. Every instinct in him was screaming against this. Against letting go of control. Against losing visibility.
But he also knew this mattered to me.
And somewhere along the way, what mattered to me had started to matter to him.
“Fine,” he finally said, his voice tight. “They stay off your property. They keep their distance. They don’t report your movements unless it’s a safety issue.”
“And I get their names and contact information.”
His eyes snapped to mine. “What?”
“If they’re protecting me, I want to know who they are. I want their names, their numbers, and a way to contact them if I need to.”
Amai stared at me like I’d just asked him to hand over state secrets.
“You want me to give you the identities of my security team.”
“Yes.”
“Truth—”
“If you want me to trust them, I need to know who they are. Otherwise, they’re just strangers following me around, and that’s not protection. That’s surveillance.”
He was quiet for a long moment, his jaw working.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
“Alright. I’ll send you their information.”
I felt something loosen in my chest.
“Thank you.”
Amai reached out and pulled me back into his arms, his hand cradling the back of my head.
“I hate this,” he murmured against my hair. “Every instinct I have is telling me to keep you locked down where I can see you.”
“I know.”
“But I’m trying.” His voice was rough, raw. “I’m trying to do this your way.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him, and I smiled.
Not because I’d won.
But because he was learning.
He was learning to protect me on my terms, not just his own.
And that—that meant more than anything else he could have given me.
“I know you are,” I said softly. “And that’s all I’m asking.”
He kissed me then, slow and deep, and I felt the promise in it.
The promise that he was trying.
That he was choosing me.
That he was learning to love me the way I needed to be loved.
And for now, that was all I needed.
I pulled back slightly, my hand resting on his chest, and took a breath.
“There’s one more thing.”
Amai’s eyes searched mine, his expression shifting from tender to alert in an instant.