Chapter 22
Markus roamed through the salon, his target set on Reign who was sitting down and pinning curls in her hair. She was focused on the pin, purposely ignoring his presence like she’d been ignoring his calls all day.
“Hey, Money,” Tonya crooned as he walked past. He said nothing, causing her to scoff. “Nigga got new pussy and can’t even acknowledge all of this. She don’t even talk for real.”
Reign heard her. She heard everything Toyna, Jania, and Tim had been whispering since Nia left and the news was out. The whispering didn’t bother her, the assumptions that she’d slept with him to get this, did.
The moment he spun her chair around, Reign stood and walked away from him. Leaving him there with all the eyes on him to chase her. Chasing her was becoming his favorite thing to do. On her trail, he pulled her into the office and closed the door.
“I’ve been calling you all day,” he stated, peering down at her.
Reign peering back at him. The bronze in her eyes flashing like embers.
“Markus, you don’t own me. I’m not going to stop what I’m doing to answer, or text or whatever.
If the cost of all this is you thinking I should every time you walk in, pop up, call, text…
find somebody else to do it. I’m not doing this shit with you or nobody. ”
The more she fussed, the further he slipped into being entranced by her. Women didn’t push back when it came to him. They went for whatever he said. They hung on to his every word. They didn’t make him chase them. They didn’t see him.
Reign continued fussing, taking the bracelet off of her wrist, and the rings off her fingers. “I’m not your charity case. I’m not some bitch who popped up and needed you, Emilliano.”
The emphasis on his middle name stroked the flame he was trying to keep at bay. When Reign looked up at him to remove her earrings, she frowned finding his smile.
“What the fuck is so funny, Markus?” she gritted, tossing the jewelry at him. “I’m not playing with you. I’m dead ass serious.”
In her fussing, she didn’t notice him backing her into the wall. When her back met the wall, she pushed him back gently. “Move.”
“What you call me?” he questioned, everything else she said had fallen on deaf ears.
“Markus, move.”
“What did you call me?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her face away from him. He boxed her in, body pressed against hers again. “I need to get ready to close up the salon. I need you to move.”
He used his pointer finger to turn her face back toward him. The way she looked up at him exposed all the layers of the things she was battling and more than anything, he wanted to pull them back, layer by weighted layer and see her the way she saw him.
“What’d you call me?” he asked, his lips brushing over hers with each word.
Her breath caught in her throat. The scent of him coaxing an answer out of her, finally. “Emilliano.”
His lips smirked against hers before he pressed them against her soft, pillowy lips.
Slowly, sensually, with longing and enough vigor to snatch the remainder of her breath away.
She had him out of his element. The signature scent she wore, the teetering between refusal and need, the strength she held all making a mad man out of him. And despite it all, he didn’t mind.
Lips smacking, hands gripping knits and her pin curls be damned, Markus kissed her like he’d been waiting all his life for this moment. It wasn’t until Reign moaned that it ended. For her, pleasure was never allowed. Pleasure was Pandora’s box. Pleasure meant pain. In a jolt, she pushed him away.
“I can’t,” she softly panted. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this with you. It’s bad enough they think I fucked you for this spot. I-”
Her voice broke.
“Tell me.”
She looked up at him, tears dancing at the brim of her eyes. “No. I need some air.”
Markus was planted in his spot but Reign found enough space to move around him and out of the office. She quickened her heeled feet to the back door and into the evening air. Markus stood there for a moment, allowing his body to regulate.
He roamed out of the office and to the salon floor where the last client of the evening was walking out. “Lock up.”
“I didn’t know we were having a team meeting,” Tim spoke, locking the door like Markus told him to .
Tonya sounded off, making his shoulders square. “Little Miss Reign must’ve cried to him.”
“Pack your shit up,” Markus said firmly turning to her. “From day one, when we opened these salons, we told y’all that gossiping shit was out of the window. And it’s on me. I let Neveah bring her ass in here and run amuck. Y’all been getting away with bullshit far too long.”
“Told you they were fuckin’,” Jania muttered.
“You can pack your shit too. You and your little hoe ass friend can find another salon in another part of the city. What I’m doing or not doing don’t have a muhfuckin’ thing to do with y’all. The rules is the fuckin’ rules. Get y’all shit and get the fuck out.”
“Money, we were just playing,” Tonya tried to backtrack. There was no backtracking. The pain pinned in Reign’s eyes was very real and under no condition would he have her in place where she had to be constantly ridiculed or taunted or triggered for that matter. He needed to protect her.
“Nah, you were loud and bold about your shit and your disrespect, stand on that. Pack up your shit and beat it. Take your cackling fuckin’ friends with you.”
Tonya scoffed and grabbed her things. “New month, new bitch. You’ll be calling us back. Just watch.”
“I doubt it. Get out my shit.” He dropped his body into Reign’s chair and watched the trio pack up their booths and then start to leave. “Uh uh, my money.”
He held his hand out, earning another set of grumbles. They pulled out their earnings from the day and placed the percentage owed in his hand.
“Now y’all can get out of my face.”
They left, leaving him alone to wait for Reign to reappear. In his wait, he swept the floor and handled the money in the register. He could sense her before he saw or heard her. She grabbed a towel and wiped down all the areas of the salon before going to her booth to pack her things up.
“What you doing?” he queried.
“Quitting,” Reign spoke avoiding his eyes. “I can’t put myself back in a situation where I lose.”
“Who said you were losing?”
“Life.” She stopped to look at him. “You will suck me into this world and spit me out. I can’t afford it.”
“You doubt your power, Reign,” he spoke, moving closer to her. She took a step back. “Look at me.”
She did.
“You got me sweeping up your floors, checking niggas and these bitches behind you. You got me making time I can’t afford to make to make sure you get here safely and leave here safely. Making sure you eat.”
“I don’t need that.”
“How you know if you never had it. Huh?” he asked, sitting in her chair and looking up at her. He leaned forward. “I can tell in the way you move, you never had it.”
“I’m supposed to trust that I have it with you? After what, a couple weeks?”
“Time is irrelevant, Reign. I’m a drug dealer.
I can walk out here right now and get hit,” Markus shared.
“I got you that phone because I need to have access to you. Not just to make sure you’re cool but for the sake of my business.
You’re about to be running part of my business, you not answering the phone don’t sit well with me. ”
She placed her hand on her hips and looked away just for him to sweep them away gently.
“Look at me, Reign.”
She did.
“I’ll make a deal with you. Business first.”
She scoffed in laughter. “You’re a liar.”
He chuckled and sat back. “You right.”
“Exactly my point. I can’t do this. Run your business or your drugs.”
His brows dipped. “I’m not putting you in that position. The only position I want you in is one that you win. That, with or without me, you can stand. That version of you that I met is going to be a distant memory.”
Reign rolled her eyes in protest. “And then I’ll be forever indebted to you.”
“I prefer respect and loyalty. But I’m not going to lie, watching you thrive would be enough for me. But I need you to stay.”
“I need you to give me some space.”
He leaned back and swiped his hand down his face. “For how long?”
“Markus, that little kiss in the office was as far as this is going.”
His head tilted in amusement. “Oh, that’s what you think?”
“It’s what I know.”
He grunted and conceded once he fished his phone out. “Aight. You want your space, you got it. I’ll have a JoyRide take you home and dinner delivered.”
“I can find and cook my own food.”
“I know but I already had plans to take you to dinner, but since it’s fuck me and my plans, it’s the least I could do. You work tomorrow?”
“No, I’m off.”
He nodded and stood, brushing against her. “Bet, enjoy your space. But when I call, answer.”
His feet felt like lead walking away from her.
He’d honor her wishes for tonight, possibly find some trouble to get into.
Or he’d find himself tossing and turning all night.
Her being the first person he saw in the morning and last one he saw at night did something to his nervous system.
It kept him away from opening the bottle and dropping pills into his mouth. She kept him and didn’t even know.
He stayed out of the way, stocking the minimal things Nia told him was needed. While he was here, the other salon was being completely stocked and ready for her entrance. When Reign was done, he walked her to the front door.
“Good night, Speechless,” he muttered into the top of her head.
The way she lingered was telling. When she stepped away, it was bittersweet. “Night, Markus.”
He watched her climb into the JoyRide and it pull away. He had the urge to follow it, make sure the driver got her home safely. Instead, he chose to lock up and sit in her chair until the app alerted him she was home.
Markus: set the alarm
Reign: the way you stalk me should be studied
He smirked. Tonight, he’d attempt to be who he was before she altered the chemistry of his brain. He went home and was greeted by the coldness of his house. This wasn’t a home and there was no warmth. He plopped down onto the sofa and stared at the bottle of liquor. Loneliness settling over him.
“We not dancing with the devil tonight.” He pushed himself off the couch and down the hall to the guest room. The bed unmade. He barely slept but at least he had somewhere to lay his head.
He cleaned and changed his bandage, showered, and laid in the bed while his ambitions of taking over Majestic Heights tangled with images of Reign. It was torture in the sweetest way and would be until she was his on her own terms.