Chapter 12 #2
Elias straightened up real slow, like a lion rising from crouch, steady and lethal.
He blinked once, twice, then took a step forward.
“Now, see…” His voice was soft, way too soft. It was the calm that made the walls lean in, waiting for the storm. “I was gon’ let you make it with the lil’ side-eyes and clenched jaw. I peeped it.”
The nurse looked confused. “Sir, I’m just following protocol—”
“Nah,” he cut her off, his tone sharp but even. “You think ’cause I’m a Black man, and because my voice done elevated a few octaves since some bitch-ass nigga put hands on my queen, you think I’m the one that did it? That I’m the threat?”
“I never said—”
“You didn’t have to,” he snapped, then took another step, now inches from her.
“You assumed. You judged. You profiled me. And that would’ve been strike one if I was counting.
But what makes this worse is that you came in here, saw me holding her hand, saw me kiss her forehead, saw the way she leaned into me for safety, and you still opened that chalky-ass mouth to accuse me? ”
“Sir, I didn’t accuse—”
“I’m a detective. I arrived at the scene.
I’m the reason the asshole that did this is sitting in a cell right now, wondering if he’ll be able to chew his next fucking meal.
” He stepped back and let his badge flash.
“I’m not just her man. I’m the loaded clip behind her smile, the locked gate between her and danger, and the quiet threat that’ll burn a whole block down for her peace. ”
The nurse swallowed, red flushing up her neck like shame on a stopwatch.
“Now apologize, floozy,” Elias demanded, his voice low and lethal. “Not for me. For her.”
She looked at me, guilt twisting her expression. “I’m… I’m so sorry, ma’am. That was inappropriate and out of line.”
I didn’t say anything, just nodded, feeling both power and pain sitting heavy on my chest.
Elias turned back to me, all softness again. He ran a hand down my locs like he was smoothing out the trauma strand by strand. “Ignorant fucking floozy. You alright, baby?”
“Yeah.” I whispered and smiled at his old soul having ass for calling that damn woman a floozy. “Thanks for checking her.”
“Don’t thank me for doing what the fuck I’m supposed to do, my love,” he muttered, kissing my temple.
Later, when the exam was done and I was sitting in a room waiting for my discharge paperwork, he slid a bottle of water into my hand and pulled up a chair right beside me.
“Say it again,” he murmured.
I blinked. “Say what?”
“That you with me.”
I looked down at our hands, fingers tangled like roots, strong and unshakable. “I’m with you.”
He sighed like he’d been holding that breath all day. “I’ll kill him if he ever comes near you again, Jonay. I swear on everything holy.”
I didn’t flinch. I believed him.
“I’m not ever letting you walk in fear again, baby.
I’ll air this whole city out if a breeze so much as brushes you the wrong way.
I’ll post outside your job in a hoodie and badge, sipping coffee with my Sig in my lap like it’s my fucking morning devotion.
I’ll follow you to the grocery store with one hand on my weapon and the other on your ass just so the world knows who you belong to.
You hear me? Ain’t shit about me normal when it comes to you.
I’m obsessed in the holy way—Psalms in my chest and violence in my veins.
You are my sanctuary and my sin, my peace and my provocation.
I’ll lose every ounce of professionalism if somebody try you.
I’ll get fired, locked up, or laid in the dirt if it means protecting what’s mine.
“And you are mine. I don’t care who sees it, who hates it, or who doesn’t believe in it.
I’ll say it in a church pew or in court with cuffs on.
I’m yours. I’ll ride for you when I’m broke, bruised, or breathing my last breath.
I’ll push the whip with no wheels, walk through hell barefoot, or tongue-kiss karma if it keeps you safe.
“Baby, I’ll lose my mind over you in public and still hold your purse like a gentleman while you shop till you drop.
I’ll switch from ‘yes ma’am’ to ‘bitch, watch your tone’ in the same sentence if somebody gets slick with my queen.
You’re my soft spot and my trigger. My favorite prayer and my worst impulse.
I don’t just love you. I worship you in ways I’m not even comfortable explaining.
And I’ll protect you until the Earth cracks open, and God Himself calls me home. ”
The room went quiet, but his words stayed loud, still shaking in my chest like they had nowhere else to land.
I didn’t even know how to breathe right now. My lungs felt too small for the air I needed, my heartbeat too big for the body I was in. Because everything he just said was beautiful. Terrifying. Reckless. Holy.
How do you hold on to a man who’s willing to burn his whole life down for you without becoming the match in his hand?
He doesn’t see it—how dangerous I felt right now.
Not dangerous to be with, but dangerous to love.
Because love for me clearly came with sirens, badge numbers, and consequences.
He was talking about baptizing streets in my name while I was sitting here praying he wouldn’t end up a cautionary tale in EJ’s bedtime stories.
My God, how the hell could I live with myself if that happened?
I should tell him to stop. Should tell him that my safety wasn’t worth him risking the only steady thing his son had left. But then he looked at me with that kind of devotion, the kind you can’t fake, can’t buy, can’t find twice, and I felt my spine soften against my will.
The messed-up part? There was a sick, selfish part of me that craved it. That was starving for the way his words wrapped around me like a bulletproof vest. It was aching for somebody to be unhinged about my safety because I’d spent years being disposable to people who swore I mattered.
But the guilt didn’t let me keep that feeling for long.
It dug in like glass under skin, whispering every possible headline that could have his name in it if he made good on those promises.
I could see it so clearly, badge gone, career gone, freedom gone, all because I didn’t know how to stay out of trouble’s way.
And still… God help me, I didn’t know if I could walk away from him even if I tried, not when he was looking at me like I was both the war and the peace he’d been training for his whole life.
Because for the first time in forever, I was starting to wonder if maybe I was worth loving like that.
Even if it killed him.
Elias’s voice came low but dangerous, like the hum of a live wire right before it sparked.
I overheard him talking to Chambers and his police sergeant: “I’m not just her man.
I’m her fucking shield, her sanity, her answered prayer walking in real time.
Anybody that even thinks about coming for her, better hope God get to ’em before I do.
Because I ain’t askin’ no questions; I’m clearing the whole board for her. ”
The words wrapped around me, thick and warm like August air, but heavy with the weight of everything he meant.
His scent, clean soap with that faint trace of his cologne, rose between us, mixing with the faint saltiness of my own sweat and the warm, faintly metallic tang of the air from his badge resting against his chest. I could hear the slow drag of his breath, feel the way it expanded against my back, steady but charged.
And I should’ve felt nothing but safe, but safety wasn’t simple for me anymore.
He didn’t even see it… how close he was teetering to the edge for me.
The same edge I’d been shoved off before.
He was willing to risk his badge, his paycheck, his reputation, for a woman still learning how to believe she was worth protecting.
And if he lost it all because of me,… how could I ever live with that?
The thought scraped down my spine like cold water, but the warmth of him at my back fought it. I could feel his hand splayed over my hip, his thumb rubbing slow, absent circles against my skin, like it was his way of telling me, Nah, I’m good as long as you’re good.
But what happened if the next time somebody came at me, it was worse? If his restraint slipped? If his job came calling for his head? I’d seen how the system loved to eat up Black men with tempers and good intentions. And this one… this one had both when it came to me.
I swallowed, the movement loud in my own ears, tasting the faint sweetness of the lipstick I’d bitten off hours ago.
My pulse was steady but deep, thudding in my throat, in my wrists, in every place he touched me.
And under all the fear was something stubborn and selfish, something that didn’t want him to let up, didn’t want him to stop claiming me out loud and in every action.
Because the truth was that I’d never been someone’s always. Never been somebody’s worth the risk.
And now that I’d tasted it—this heat, this protection, this unshakable loyalty—I wasn’t sure I could give it back, even if it scared me senseless.
The ride to the station wasn’t just quiet.
It was loaded. Silence that didn’t sit still but fidgeted in the corners of your thoughts, scratching at the drywall of your sanity.
Elias kept one hand on the wheel and the other locked on my thigh like he was grounding me, or maybe grounding himself.
He was holding back a war in his chest. His jaw was clenched, that vein in his neck popping like it had its own pulse, and I swore I heard him whispering prayers between gritted teeth like he was battling both God and vengeance.