13. Everly
I watched as Real's eyes left me and focused on the man I had run into. Real’s nostrils flared slightly, and his mouth was tight. I could see his body tense, mirroring my own tension. Coincidences were possible, but I didn’t believe this one. This was the man from my neighborhood, minus little Assad. The man held onto my arms gently, but his eyes were definitely on Real.
"Aaqil. You must be lost?" Real asked, his voice low and scary. "And get your fucking hands off her.”
Reluctantly, Aaqil released me. Real moved in front of me, blocking my view. Feeling the negative energy between them, I peeked around Real's big, solid body. I watched, my attention all caught up as Aaqil, who obviously led the two men behind him, smirked at Real.
"I always know exactly where I am going, Montréal," he said in his accented voice.
"Get the fuck off my property," Real growled.
Aaqil chuckled as his eyes flitted to me. "And her? The beauty is your property, too?"
"Ay, bitch, stop playing with me before I slide yo' ass."
Real’s voice was strained with warning. The tightness in his body intensified as Aaqil’s grin spread.
“Relax, Real. I am just enjoying the shops. I have no need to come out to collect information on you. It finds its way to me, almost like it is carried along a pipeline.”
“Yeah, well, your pipeline unexpectedly sprouted a leak—a big one. I foresee the same for you.”
Aaqil’s big smile suddenly faded. "No brothers, no Scarface, and you still have much to say," he taunted.
Real started laughing, catching me by surprise. Like, really laughing. Aaqil and his men looked as confused as I felt. I felt a light touch on my shoulder and looked over at Madame G. For some reason, I was glad to see her.
"What the fuck is funny, Hamilton?" Aaqil demanded.
"You," Real said, chuckling. "I mean, my brothers and Targen make things fun, but the fact that you think I need them..."
I was standing behind him, and I still couldn't comprehend how quickly he moved, grabbing Aaqil by the throat. Aaqil chuckled. A small scream escaped me as his henchmen swept back their suit jackets, ridiculous in the Texas heat, to reveal holsters and the dark gleam of metal. Okay, this shit had to de-escalate. I didn't know what to do, so I walked closer, pressed my chest against Real's back, and slid my arms around him.
"Real, don't. They have guns. This can't be worth it," I coaxed, holding on to him as tightly as I could.
“You better listen to her,” Aaqil spat. “I would love to spatter your head all over your property."
His smugness was infuriating … and apparently, too soon. I heard Davi’s voice, but he definitely wasn’t offering coffee.
“And it would not bother me at all to spatter yours,” he said coldly.
I loosened my grasp on Real enough to peek around his side. My jaw dropped at the sight of Davi and Mariana calmly standing behind Aaqil and his men, small guns almost invisible in their grasps.
“See, there you go again, Aaqil, overestimating yourself. Your team already pulled too late— I would’ve snapped your neck before they even reached you. Then, they don’t even pay attention to their surroundings. My friends behind you, ready to light all y’all asses up. You want my life so bad, but you ain’t ready for it. Now, get the fuck away from my property. You trespassing, bitch.”
I could hear the amusement warring with irritation in Real’s tone. Aaqil looked around like he was weighing his odds. He must have decided it was too risky. He nodded at his crew, who slowly dropped their jackets. His lip curled as he looked at Real.
“Enjoy it now. I am going to make you watch as I take everything you own,” he vowed, then his eyes flickered to me. “I am going to especially enjoy taking the property behind you, Over and over. Elle est très belle .”
My hold on Real tightened as another laugh spilled from him.
“Montréal, please,” I whispered.
“You ever touch her, you won’t live through the consequences,” he uttered calmly.
Aaqil opened his mouth, thought better of it, and walked away. Slowly, I let go of Real. He looked unbothered when he turned around, but I knew better.
“You better not ever put yourself in the line of fire again, understand?” he fussed at me, scowling.
“Real—”
“Do you under?—”
“Yes, yes! I get it!” I assured him, reaching up to cup his jaw.
“So, you met him before?” he asked gruffly.
I nodded, chewing my inner lip. Why had Aaqil sought me out? He clearly didn’t know the background of our relationship—I doubted I could offer him any leverage.
“In my neighborhood.”
“What did he say?”
I gave him a quick recap, then shrugged. “Nothing really. I just knew I hadn’t seen him before.”
He stared at me, looking like he was about to say something else, but Madame G touched his arm.
“I was trying to tell you. I am sorry, I did not think when we talked earlier. That man has been coming here, looking, asking. I do not like his energy toward you, Montréal,” she said.
Real nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
He thanked Mariana and Davi abruptly before half dragging me to the Grand National. I was so confused. Why was Real, who claimed to work primarily in real estate, involved in shit like what just happened? Who was Aaqil and why was there bad blood between them? Why the hell did he have armed coffee shop owners and such an observant dressmaker on site?
There was so much I wanted to ask, but something about his vibe had me quiet. He didn’t say anything to me the whole trip, but he had a clipped, coded phone conversation with someone. I expected to be dropped off and to hear from him later in the week. He had other plans, though. The frustration I sensed in him apparently needed an outlet, and he found it in my bedroom. A few hours after returning home, my pussy was sore from his ruthless pounding, and my legs were weak from how many times he’d made me cum. When I finally cupped a hand over my aching center and shook my head no, he spoke the first words he’d said to me since we left the shopping center, giving me a gruff apology. Then he proceeded to slide down and nudge my hand to the side and use his warm, slow tongue to soothe my pussy. Real’s talent had me shedding tears and pleading. He swallowed the endless fount of my juices until he swept me into a last, blinding orgasm that literally took me out. When I woke, I was under the covers, and he was gone.