33. Theory Miller
Before... the incident , my family had teased me about my mismatched height and ego. Saying I was five-foot-three was a stretch, but you couldn't tell me anything. I walked around like I was seven feet tall, pretty and confident and ready to take on the world. Now, I felt how small I was, especially since I couldn't really eat anymore and was losing my thick body. And especially when men like this one standing in my grandmother's kitchen were around. He was easily over six-and-a-half feet tall and had to be at least 250 pounds of solid muscle. Most people would be intimidated by the brutal scarring on the left side of his face, angry slashes that started near his hairline, marked his cheek, and nicked his upper lip. But to me, he was still handsome, fair-skinned with a stormy gray gaze and lips that would've made me want to kiss him in my past life. His scars didn't scare me—I had learned that they often said more about the evil of the person who did the scarring than the person scarred.
It was his size that fucked with me, even as it attracted me. I knew, somehow, that this was a man who had hurt people. This was a man who could hurt me, who could hold me down and destroy me as easily as he could swat a fly.
"Theory," he whispered.
I snapped out of my thoughts to glare at him.
"How you know my name?" I demanded.
"Pip told me when she said I could come back here for water."
I frowned. Pip had been crazy protective over me since the incident . She didn't trust anyone who wasn't family around me. But she told this man my name and sent him to me? She had a feeling about something. I still wasn't ready to give in.
"Theory," he repeated, covering my hand that still rested on his chest.
His big hand swallowed mine, emphasizing the difference in our sizes again, but his touch felt so warm, so unexpectedly right, that even as I tried to make myself yank away, I couldn't.
"What?" I mumbled instead.
"You scared of me?" he asked hoarsely.
"Yes."
His beautiful eyes closed me off and he angled his face away from me. No . I didn't want to lose the way he was looking at me. My hand shot out, anxious to cup his scarred cheek, but I caught myself and closed it. He let go of my other hand and started to step back.
"It's not your scars," I said hurriedly.
He frowned down at me, looking confused.
"What?"
"You… you turned your head. Your scars don't scare me."
What are you doing, Theory? He was about to leave. Let him leave! But I felt my breathing ease and my body relax as he moved toward me again.
"Explain," he ordered gruffly.
I looked up at him, my tongue trailing over my lips as I tried to find the words. Fuck it. Just say it.
"You're so... big."
He sighed and moved closer to me. "Shorty..."
"I'm s?—"
"I would never use my size against you, Theory. That ain't me."
I should have left it at that. So, imagine my surprise when I asked, "What would you use it for?"
His eyes glowed with a sudden heat that I swore pulsed through my body.
"To protect you." A step closer and then the rough pad of his thumb was stroking my cheek. "To please you."
Whew, child! Sensations I hadn't felt in years swamped me as my mouth went completely dry but another part of me grew soaking wet. I turned around, my body jerky as I opened the water and poured it over the ice. I gulped it down, not stopping until the glass was almost empty. I poured the rest, then almost jumped out of my skin when a hand crept around me and gently grabbed the glass. I faced him as he drank, the smooth column of his neck moving with his swallows. I'd never thought that shit was sexy, but now...
What is wrong with you? I asked myself as he set the glass down. We stared at each other for a minute as a small shiver shook me. He really was fine as fuck, but I could see the shadows of violence all over him. I couldn't entertain this—whatever "this" was.
"Well, it was nice to meet you..."
My voice trailed off as I realized I didn't even know his name.
"Targen," he said in that deliciously deep voice.
"Targen, but I gotta prep so my sister and I can cook."
Again, those eyes shuttered on me. Again, I felt the loss. I bit my lip, then went for it.
"Unless you want to help," I blurted.
He looked on each side of him, then pointed at his chest. It was so cute that I laughed.
"Yeah, you. Just don't sneak up on me, okay?"
I meant that. For some reason, I believed him when he said he wouldn't hurt me, but I still needed my space. He smiled, and I swear the sun brightened.
"You got that," he said.
Looking up at him, I returned his smile. We stood there like two goofies until one of the back doors suddenly opened and my cousin Shep stepped into the kitchen from the door that opened into the solarium. His ass had probably passed out drunk back there. Seeing the man behind him wiped the smile from my face and made my blood run cold.
"Theory?" Targen said softly.
I shook my head as tremors seized my body.
"Y'all ain't cooked yet?" Shep groaned.
I couldn't answer, felt my mind leaving the kitchen. And then Targen was there, his back to my front as he sheltered me behind him.
To protect you , he'd said. And the tension in his long, muscular body told me he was ready to do just that.
"Who the fuck are you?" he growled.
Shep's spoiled ass decided to test him.
"Man, who the fuck is you, asking questions in my granny's house?" he snapped.
"Some dude yo' cousin fucking, look like. All this shit she done caused, and she being a ho just like Chauncey said, weird ass," his friend Kemp spat.
I jerked violently and before I knew it, Targen was across the kitchen, his hand wrapped around Kemp's neck as he knocked his head into the wall.
"Say, nigga—” Shep started.
But his ass stopped when Targen pulled a gun from his back and aimed it at him in one smooth move, his eyes never leaving Kemp's suddenly scared face. Bitch ass nigga , I thought. The gun should scare me. I knew that. I didn't know this man and I had already sensed his violent nature. He had my younger cousin about to piss on himself in our granny's kitchen. It was too much. But it felt like just enough, having someone defend me against Kemp's words, words that had been whispered for so long now.
"Sounded like you called my shorty a ho. That can't be right, huh?" Targen asked calmly.
My eyes widened at his possessive statement, but I was not about to challenge it.
"Let me go, man. I wasn't saying nothing," Kemp whined.
"We can agree on that, pussy ass nigga. I'on give a fuck who invited you," he grilled Shep over his shoulder before looking back at Kemp. "You not welcome here. You not welcome anywhere Theory is."
"But it's a small town. I?—"
Targen banged Kemp's head into the wall again, silencing him.
"I don't give a fuck how small this shit is. You see her, you turn the other way. I'm not gon' ask if you understand, cuz I kinda hope you don't. I want a reason to slump yo' ass," he spat.
"I understand. I swear, I understand," Kemp said quickly.
The smile Targen gave him was not the one he had blessed me with. This one was dark and twisted, the slash above his lip making it scary.
"Good. You about to walk out this door and I'ma have one of my guys meet you to make sure you don't get lost getting off the property. Don't ever bring yo’ ass back here."
He squeezed Kemp's neck as Kemp tried to squirm away. Shep looked at me, and I shrugged helplessly. Only when Kemp stopped struggling, his body starting to go limp, did Targen let go. Kemp fell. It took him a minute to right himself and struggle to his feet. He sucked in a couple of deep breaths before running out the second back door. Targen pulled out his phone and called someone named Juvie to grab Kemp and make sure he left. Then, he turned to face Shep, gun still aimed.
Shep threw up both hands, his eyes bucking.
"I ain't know he was gon' be on that bullsh—" my cousin started.
"Get the fuck outta here," Targen ordered.
Shep scrambled his way into the hall, his footsteps fast as fuck as he headed toward the front. Targen looked at me as he slid the gun into his back holster. I waited for fear to wash over me. Instead, all I felt was the throbbing between my thighs as my pussy reawakened. His actions were crazy... and sexy as fuck.
"I'll do the eggs. That's my best breakfast food," he offered.
I swallowed hard, ignoring my body's desires. A man is the last thing on my mind , I vowed silently. I wasn't setting myself up for any more incidents .
"Th-the eggs. Yeah. That's fine," I whispered.