Chapter 12
I'd been awake the whole time he was gone.
Didn't sleep. Just laid in that bed staring at the ceiling thinking about what could be happening right now.
Thinking about whether he was safe. Thinking about the fact that I cared whether he was safe, which was crazy considering he'd kidnapped me less than forty eight hours ago.
But I did care. And that was the problem.
I’d given him the information he needed to possibly kill a man, and I did that all for my gain. Now, I was worried and hoping that Kaseem didn’t want into a trap himself.
I heard him moving through the house. Security checking in with him, him responding in short answers like he was tired but alert. I got out of bed and went to my door, cracking it open to see if I could catch a glimpse of him walking past.
The guard posted outside my door immediately put his arm across the frame, blocking my way.
"Orders are for you to stay in the room," he said. Not mean, just matter of fact.
I started to protest but I heard Kaseem's voice cut through the hallway.
"Let her out," he said. Simple as that.
The guard dropped his arm and I moved fast before he could change his mind. I followed Kaseem down the hallway toward his room, staying a few steps behind him because I didn't know what I was about to walk into or what he was about to say.
He didn't say anything. Just went straight into his bedroom and started pulling his shirt off.
That's when I saw it. Blood on the fabric. Not a little bit. Enough to tell me that whatever happened at that address tonight was exactly what I thought it was.
He pulled the shirt over his head and threw it on the floor and I watched his whole chest and stomach come into view. He was all muscle, defined in a way that told me he didn't just run an operation, he stayed ready for any situation that required physical capability.
Then he unbuckled his pants and I felt my eyes widen without my permission.
He slid them down and stepped out of them and suddenly he was standing there in nothing but black boxer briefs and I couldn't look away.
His print was so visible that my mouth literally dropped.
I was staring. Full on staring like a lil ass girl who'd never seen a man's body before. That’s how serious his shit was.
He was saying something to me but I wasn't hearing it. My brain had shut off everything except the image in front of me.
"Ayo," he said, and his voice cut through the fog I was in. "What's up with you? What did you want?”
I blinked and looked up at his face.
"I just... I came to check on you," I said, and my voice sounded different. Smaller. "Make sure you were okay."
He looked at me for a second like he was trying to figure out if I was serious.
"You never gotta worry about me being okay," he said, and he was already walking toward his bathroom.
"That ain't your job, and just for future reference, ima always be okay. I make sure of that.” He cockily said, as if he couldn’t be fucked with.
"I’m sure, but when you left you looked angry. Hell, real angry. So I just wanted to make sure you were... I just wanted to check," I said, and I sounded stupid as hell but I couldn't stop the words coming out.
He was rubbing his hand over his head out of stress, moving toward the bathroom. "I'm about to take a quick shower. You can wait in here."
He closed the bathroom door and I stood there in his bedroom like I didn't know what the hell I was doing.
The smell of him was everywhere. Whatever cologne he wore, it was all over his room and all over me from being this close to him.
He naturally smelled good as hell and that was one thing I remembered about him since day one.
I didn't sit down at first. I just stood there processing what I'd just seen. Processing the fact that I'd followed him like some damn puppy and stared at him like I'd never seen a man before. I didn’t know what it was, but I was definitely feeling and acting different.
The exhaustion from staying up all night finally caught up with me though. I sat down on the edge of his bed, then I laid back just for a second to rest my eyes while he was in the shower.
I was asleep before the water even cut on.
---
When I woke up, he was standing over me tapping my leg. He was shirtless now, wearing just grey shorts that hung low on his hips. His hair was wet and he smelled like soap and whatever he used to clean up after killing people.
"Move over," he said.
I was still half asleep and confused about where I was for a second. Then it hit me that I was in his bed and he was about to get in it with me.
"I'm just gonna go back to my room," I said, sitting up.
"Nah," he said. "You ain't. Move over."
He wasn't asking. And I wasn't about to fight him on it. I moved over toward the wall and he got in bed beside me like that was the most regular thing in the world. He reached for the remote and handed it to me.
"Put on whatever you be watching," he said.
I turned the TV on and scrolled through the apps until I got to BMF. I needed something that would keep my mind off the fact that he was lying three inches away from me. Maybe if we watched some gangsta shit, I wouldn’t be thinking about this man like that.
I clicked play and he looked over at me with a small smile.
"You be on that?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said, and I felt my own lips curve up into a smile. It was the fact we like the same show. “You?"
"Hell yeah. Big Meech was crazy although I know some of that shit be exaggerated for the plot," he said, and we both laughed because it was crazy how these two people in completely different situations found common ground over a TV show.
We watched for a few minutes and I felt myself relaxing. This wasn't weird. It was just... two people watching tv. The threat was handled. He was home. And for some reason, being in his space felt safer than being locked in my own room.
My eyes started getting heavy after a while. The adrenaline from the whole night was gone and the exhaustion was taking over. Without really thinking about it, I laid my head on his chest.
The second I realized what I'd done, I went stiff. I was about to move but his hand came up fast and pressed gently on my back.
"You good," he said. Like he was giving me permission to stay right there.
I looked up at him to make sure he was serious and when I saw his face, when I saw that he wasn't bothered by it, I laid my head back down on his chest.
His heart was beating steady and calm like nothing had happened tonight. Like he hadn't just come home with blood on his shirt. Like he wasn't the kind of man who left people dead in warehouses.
But right then, with his heartbeat under my ear and his arm around me keeping me close, I didn't care what kind of man he was.
I just knew that for the first time since this started, I felt safe.
And I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
—
I woke up to his hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently. The sun was coming through the windows and I could tell it was later in the morning. I'd been sleeping so deep that for a second I didn't remember where I was or how I got there.
Then I remembered his chest. His heartbeat. The way he told me I was good when I put my head on him.
"Come on," he said. "We got breakfast cooking."
His voice was different in the morning. Softer maybe. Or maybe I was just hearing it different now that I knew what it felt like to fall asleep to the sound of it.
I nodded and he left the room so I could get myself together.
I went to my room real quick, showered, handled my morning hygiene routine and threw on some clothes.
When I came downstairs, he was already sitting at the table.
The chef had brought food out — eggs, French toast, fruit, coffee.
Real breakfast. Not just throwing together whatever was in the kitchen.
I sat down across from him and he was already looking at me.
"How you sleep?" he asked.
I looked at him and made eye contact and I couldn't help but smile. Last night felt like a dream but I knew it was real. This mean ass nigga was almost nice for once. I knew my head had been on his chest. I knew he'd held me. And although the situation was wrong, it almost felt right.
"Better than I have in a while," I said.
He was already eating but something shifted in his face. He looked satisfied hearing that. Like me sleeping well mattered to him.
"How'd you sleep?" I asked him.
He took a sip of his coffee and I watched his whole face change. He almost blushed. His jaw got tight and his eyes went soft for just a second before he caught himself.
"I slept good as hell," he said, and then he smiled. A real smile. Not the cold calculated shit he did most of the time. An actual genuine smile that made his whole face look different. And for once, I saw his perfect, pearly white teeth.
Then he realized what he was doing. I watched him catch himself mid-smile and kill it.
Just shut it down like he flipped a switch.
His face went back to that blank expression and he looked away from me.
Damn, this man couldn’t even allow himself to feel whatever that just was.
He had to be hard and cold. I rolled my eyes an his sudden shift.
He started eating again and the energy at the table changed.
"Your clothes are laid out in your room," he said, and his voice had gone back to that short, direct tone. The mean Kaseem. Not the one who almost blushed a few minutes ago. "After breakfast you need to get dressed. We're going to the courthouse."
I felt the wall go back up between us. After last night, after this morning, he was pulling back. Fighting whatever he was feeling.
"Your wallet is in my office," he continued, not looking at me. "I didn't go through it. You can grab your own documents. If you're missing your ID or social, we can grab them on the way."