FAVOR #4
“No. It’s fine. It’s actually… beautiful. A far cry from the little cell I slept in at my mother’s apartment.” She faced him and released a soft laugh.
Nodding, Bull backed up, and his phone went off in his pocket. He studied the screen and saw that it was Brenda calling. Choosing to ignore her, he sent her to voicemail. A few seconds later, it went off again. This time, it was Braxton.
“You want something to eat?” he checked with her.
“I’m starving. I want a double bacon cheeseburger with fries so bad.”
“Aight. I got you. Make yourself comfortable. Take a shower or whatever.” Bull’s gaze danced over her in the t-shirt and leggings she changed into this morning.
Bad nerves engulfed her when he walked away.
This house was gorgeous. She in no way felt endangered, but something somewhere in the deepest part of her was waiting for something else to drop.
She unpacked her things, leaving them on the bed and choosing a long t-shirt she’d had since high school that she slept in to slip into after her shower.
She was surprised to find different name brand products already in the cabinets inside the bathroom with thick towels organized by color on a shelf.
Grabbing a peach-colored towel and wash rag, she set them on the marble countertop and went to run the shower.
Peering at herself in the mirror, the woman staring back her was not the same.
Her eyes were sad, hair pulled up in a messy bun, and she was exhausted.
For the last two days it seemed like she’d been on go, which was the truth.
She peeled out of her clothes, leaving them on the floor in a pile before she jumped into the shower encasing to cleanse herself.
She couldn’t believe she was here, in this big ass house, with the brother of the man she loved and carrying Bronx’s child.
God had to be playing some cruel joke on her.
Standing under the hot water with steam surrounding her, she revisited the decision she made a few days ago.
“You’ve lost your mind!” she hissed, gaping at the serious expression on Bull’s face.
There were similarities with him and Bronx, but personality wise, the two couldn’t be more different. Bull never smiled. While Bronx took nothing serious and was always clowning. Yet there was still something familiar in him that comforted her.
“You done?” he asked quietly.
“Oh, I am just getting started.”
“What do you think is going to happen to you if my father’s men get their hands on you? He thinks you set Bronx up,” Bull pointed out.
“I loved Bronx,” Toni argued, brows knitted together.
Shaking his head, Bull stroked his beard.
He didn’t have time for this shit, and she wasn’t understanding the severity of the situation too well.
All Toni knew was he sounded crazy as hell.
Without warning, she burst into tears. Bull waited.
Allowing her the moment to collect herself.
He’d never been good with crying women or crying period.
When she finally looked up, eyes swollen and red, she sniffled.
“Braxton isn’t going to stop. He’s going to keep sending people.”
“Then I’ll keep running,” Toni quipped.
“You won’t.”
“I have to.” She leaned toward him from the passenger’s seat. “I have a child to think about!”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Bull rebutted.
“I don’t want my baby near any of this.”
“Our baby,” Bull corrected her.
Toni blinked, then stared, speechless.
“What?”
“My nephew,” he said, calm, steady, voice breaking just enough in the moment to sound human.
“I’m the only one standing between y’all and a grave.”
Toni swallowed, letting his words settle in, staring ahead.
“What are you saying?” she whispered.
“I need you to marry me, Antonia.”
She laughed when she heard it again. Shaking her head, she clicked her tongue and stared out her window. This was crazy!
“Did one of those flying bullets happen to hit you somewhere and we didn’t know it?” she jested, turning back to him. Shaking her head furiously, she glared at him.
“My boyfriend—”
“My brother,” Bull reminded her.
“My child’s father—”
“My brother,” he repeated.
“He just died! Why would I ever marry you?”
Bull looked her dead in the eye.
“Because our last name is the only thing my father respects,” he told her. “If you’re my wife, he can’t touch you without declaring war on me.”
“And if he does?” Toni muttered.
“Then he answers to me.” Bull’s tone was cold, with a glacial glint behind his eyes to match.
“You’d go against your whole family?”
“I already am.” He shifted in the driver’s seat. “Consider me your shield.”
“You really think this is going to work?” She squinted.
It wasn’t the kind of proposal she ever expected to hear nor consider.
Not based off love with any romance behind it.
It was survival wrapped in a wedding band.
She could run until the bounty was collected on her head and eventually die, or she could take her chances with Bull and see where she landed.
Staying alive for herself and her child was her only priority.
“Okay. Let’s do it then. Let’s get married.”
Downstairs, Bull planned to set up shop in the living room.
He grabbed food off UberEATS and went to search his collection for a nightcap.
The pantry needed a restock because all he had was whiskey and a couple bottles of wine.
He went for the hard shit as the doorbell chimed, alerting him that he had a visitor.
Checking the ring cam app on his phone, it wasn’t who he expected, but he was going to open the door anyway.
Sighing, he pulled himself away from the counter in the kitchen where he set his liquor and shot glass and padded toward the front entrance.
“Have you lost your mind, Bull?” His mother stormed past him and his father into the entryway and quickly spun on the heel of her Dior shoes.
The dark glower crowding his father’s face only seemed to deepen the longer he looked at him.
“You want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing?” Braxton growled, slamming the door shut behind him.
“I don’t have to explain shit to you,” Bull responded.
Knowing his old man better than most, when his hand moved to his hip, so did Bull’s. Luckily, Brenda was there to intervene, pressing a hand against each of their solid chests. These were two of the most stubborn men she knew. Bull didn’t have that nickname for no reason.
“No, that’s not what the fuck we’re doing.” Her dark, rosewood eyes volleyed from her son to her husband in desperation.
“Then leave. I didn’t ask you here.” Bull smacked her hand from his chest.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” His mother waved her hand, displaying her fresh acrylics and gaudy diamond rings.
“Imagine our surprise when we find out from our men that not only is this bitch Antonia still alive, but she’s with you!
” Brenda snapped. “Fancy called and told us what happened, too. She fucked that girl up, leaving her with all kinds of abdominal contusions.”
“You disobeyed a direct order,” Braxton chimed in, his bushy salt and pepper brows bunched together.
“I don’t take orders from you,” Bull noted, crossing his arms in front of his dick.
“What you say?” Braxton turned his head and stuck his ear out, thinking he heard him wrong.
“I said I don’t take orders from you,” Bull repeated, this time with even more confidence than before.
Moving swiftly, Braxton attempted to yoke him up, but Bull was both faster and stronger.
Whipping his pistol off his hip, he brought it right to his chin and gripped the back of his neck, bringing their faces closer.
Eyes boring into his, Bull saw no remorse, no love.
Braxton was cold, and the world made him that way long before he gained a family.
Bull wasn’t sure why he ever even tried.
He would always fall short in the eyes of a man who was constantly looking for imperfections.
“You sure you want to do this?” Braxton grunted.
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Bull released him and Braxton jerked away from him.
“Bull, I thought I heard—” From the top of the staircase overlooking the entryway, Toni stood in nothing but a bathrobe, her hair and skin still wet from the water.
When she gripped the railing with both hands, Brenda caught something sparkling off her finger on the chandelier dangling above them. She thought maybe her eyes were deceiving her. Slowly, both parents’ eyes drifted to him, but Bull wasn’t letting up.
“Is this what you’re doing?” his mother questioned, her timbre laced with shock. “You’re coming against us for her?” She waved an angry hand toward Toni.
“We’re your fucking family! Does that mean anything to you?” Braxton’s head slipped in a tilt before his coal black eyes centered on his son.
“Actually, it does. I plan to make sure my family is good. Protected. Disconnected from you and all the bullshit you bring with you,” Bull vowed.
“She doesn’t get to walk away from this!” Braxton wagged a disgruntled finger in Toni’s direction.
“She is my wife,” Bull announced, watching revolt display over both parents’ faces when they processed his words and looked at him.
He wondered if they were both having a stroke the way they stood so stiff and expressionless. Lowkey, part of him was enjoying their repulsion.
“The fuck you mean your wife?” Scoffing, Brenda blinked several times before shooting daggers at Toni up the staircase.
“Meet Mrs. Bezai Andrews.” Holding up his wedding hand, he flashed the white gold band resting on his finger. “If she slips and falls off a fucking curb, or someone bumps into her or looks at her a little too long, you two will feel it first.”
“You don’t even know her. You can’t just marry her!” Brenda screamed.
“I already did. In Vegas, around three am,” he broke down for them. “Andrews look out for their own, right?” His brow lifted, and his mother recoiled, joining her husband at his side.