Chapter 18
Two weeks later
The time on my clock read three o’clock in the morning.
I’d been tossing and turning, not able to sleep.
Ghost and I were working on this new job.
It was taking a lot of investigative work that was draining the hell out of me.
My stomach rumbled, which prompted me to climb out of bed and head into the kitchen.
Ma normally did all the cooking around here.
Every so often, I’d find myself moving around the kitchen to fix something.
She taught me well. Said she always wanted me to be able to survive without her or a woman.
When I opened the refrigerator, I saw the salmon sitting in there, so I pulled it out and prepped it to be cooked.
Tuscan salmon was on my mind, so I was about to make it.
I’d been in the kitchen for a couple hours when I heard house shoes dragging across the floor.
A few seconds later, Solei appeared in the doorway wearing a pink robe. She rubbed her eyes and yawned.
“What are you doing up?” she asked me when she entered the kitchen. Solei stopped at the island and took a seat on the barstool.
“Was hungry,” I said and placed a plate down in front of her.
“This looks good as hell. Did you make this?”
I slid onto the stool across from her and picked up my fork. “Who else would’ve?”
Solei squinted at me before glancing around the kitchen.
“Honestly? Yo’ mama.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Disappointed?”
“No. I’m just surprised that you know how to cook.” She shoved a forkful into her mouth before her eyes widened. “Damn.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Damn good?”
She pointed the fork at me. “Don’t get cocky.”
I watched her take another bite. For a woman who spent most of her time threatening to kill me, she looked entirely too comfortable eating food I made. The realization settled somewhere deep in my chest. Dangerous territory. The kind my mother warned me about.
Solei paused midway through chewing.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“You staring.”
“You eating.”
“That’s weird.”
“So is talking to security cameras.” Her face twisted.
“Are we still on that?”
“You called me a psychopath.”
“You are a psychopath.”
“I fed you.”
“You kidnapped me,” she reminded me.
“Fair.”
She laughed. The sound caught me off guard. I’d heard her laugh numerous times, but this time, it was genuine for me. For a second, I forgot every reason she’d been brought into my life. Forgot the war waiting outside these walls. The blood. The secrets.
Solei took a sip of water.
“You know what’s crazy?” she blurted.
“What?”
“You don’t seem like the person everybody says you are.”
I set my fork down. The smile left her face.
“Careful.”
“Why?”
“’Cause people usually say that right before they realize everyone was right.”
Silence stretched between us. Solei looked down at her plate.
“You ever regret it?”
“Regret what?”
“The things you’ve done.”
The kitchen grew quiet. Even the refrigerator seemed to stop humming.
I gawked at her. “Do you?”
Her eyes flickered. There it was. I’d struck a nerve. Her husband was probably dancing in her mind—the one she killed. The ghost that still followed her around.
She looked away. I leaned forward. “You think about him every day?”
Her jaw tightened. “Sometimes.”
“Liar.”
She slammed her fork down. “You don’t know what I think.”
“I know enough.”
“Then tell me.”
“You think about him every night. You think about the blood. You think about whether you’d do it again.”
Her breathing slowed, and she swallowed. “And the answer scares you.”
Neither of us spoke because she knew I was right. Finally, she pushed her plate away.
“I hate when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you can read my mind.”
I stood and gathered both plates. “I don’t read minds.”
“Then how do you know?”
I rinsed the dishes beneath the warm water. “’Cause I see you.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
The kitchen went still again. When I looked over my shoulder, Solei was already staring at me. It was as if she’d heard someone say that before. The moment lasted too long, so I broke it. “Go back to bed.”
She blinked. “What?”
“You look tired.”
“You kicking me out?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.”
I chuckled. “Good night, wifey.”
Her face twisted. “Savion.”
“Good night, wifey,” I repeated.
She rolled her eyes and slid off the stool. Halfway across the kitchen, she stopped. I pretended not to notice.
“Savion?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for the food.”
I stared over at her. She was standing there in her pink robe, hair messy from sleep, looking softer than I’d ever seen her.
The exact reason I should’ve stayed away from her. Instead, I found myself saying the one thing I shouldn’t have. “Anytime, Solei.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and then she disappeared down the hallway.
I stayed in the kitchen long after she was gone. Staring at the empty doorway. Thinking about the smile she’d given me and realizing I was already in trouble. Somewhere between kidnapping her and protecting her, . . . I started looking forward to moments like this.