Chapter 8
Eight
MICAH
I t always started with dreams.
I would live these things out in my sleep, nothing weird about that.
But remembering it all as vividly as I did, no matter how much time passed… that was different.
Then the things would actually happen.
Wild shit.
I was a teenager before I really caught on to what I was experiencing.
Which… shit, may have been the worst possible time.
I was already always in trouble, thought I was untouchable.
Knowing what was coming my way just made me even more cocky than I already was.
I took bigger risks, hung with dumber crowds.
There wasn’t a casket or jail cell in my future as far as I could see, so I moved like I was invincible.
At least until my knack for fighting landed me in front of somebody way tougher, way smarter. He didn’t know about the visions, nobody did, because I didn’t think they would believe me.
But Jesse Garret knew I had something in me, some potential, knew I wasn’t just another hothead with fast hands.
He put me in a boxing ring, and things took off for me from there.
Did seeing things before they happened give me some unfair advantage?
Eh… depended on how you looked at it.
It wasn’t like I was seeing punches just before they happened, but seeing myself winning certainly gave me a confidence I might not have had otherwise. All I had to do was get in the ring and deliver, not squander what was already ordained.
I just had to be in position to reap whatever was coming.
So… after dreaming about the decadence of Rhea’s pussy—since apparently that part of my brain was unlocked now—it was no surprise to wake up to her on top of me.
It was certainly gratifying as fuck though.
I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet, but her face was in line with mine, lips brushing. She was straddling me, thighs braced on either side of my hips. I felt her smile as I moved my hands, taking two handfuls of ass to grab and squeeze.
My first sight of the morning was her pretty ass face, sprinkled with those freckles she had everywhere. Her hair hung on either side of my face like a curtain, with sunlight filtering through.
“Good,” she murmured. “You’re awake.”
She was already lined up, she sank straight down, pulling a satisfied groan from my lips as she started riding.
Hands planted on my chest.
A smirk on her face.
Eyes closed.
“Good morning to you too,” I said, chuckling when she batted away my attempt to guide her hips.
She opened her eyes, fixing her gaze on mine. “You know I’ll be able to tell if you lie to me, right?”
I tucked my hands behind my head to just let her do her thing. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
She lifted an eyebrow, leaning in a little, hips still moving. “Did you dream about me last night?”
“I did.”
She grinned. “Fucking me?”
“Yes,” I admitted, grinning myself over the way that answer so clearly pleased her.
I felt her intrusion in my head, just like when I’d been inside her against the door. I hadn’t been trying to keep her out, but I did now, suspecting what she was after.
“Tell me about it?”
“No.” I shook my head. “And stop being nosy.”
“Why?” she whined, sinking—somehow—even further onto my dick. Her movements slowed to an intoxicating grind as she stared me in the eyes.
Trying to fucking hypnotize me.
I grabbed her at the hips, pulling her off me, and she immediately stopped her mental intrusion. “Fine. Meanie ,” she pouted, prompting me to laugh, until I was buried in her pussy again. “Why can’t I know? If I’m in it?”
“Because,” I told her, moving a hand to her clit. She sucked in a breath, eyes fluttering closed. “I already said this, it could change something I don’t want changed.”
“Even just… a little hint?” she asked, between little whimpers of pleasure. “Like… am I going to pay for not making you put a condom on?”
When I didn’t answer, her eyes popped open. “Oh God, you’re going to get me pregnant, aren’t you?”
“Not today,” I replied, which made her stop moving, eyes wide open.
“That’s not funny.”
“Wasn’t meant to be.” I smirked, letting my thumb circle her clit again, making her whimper. “Didn’t I say I wouldn’t lie to you?”
Her hands planted against my chest again, but this time, like she was ready to push away. Instead, I grabbed her hips, flipping us so I was on top, sinking between her legs. “ Now ,” I thought, knowing she was in my head. “ Are you done being nosy? ”
“No,” she declared, chin lifted in defiance.
I grinned. “Fine,” I said, already driving her into the mattress.
A gasp tore from her throat, her hands flying to my biceps, nails digging in as I stroked.
Hard.
Fast.
Deep.
If I couldn’t keep her out of my head… I’d simply fuck her out of her own mind.
“That’s. Di. Ab. Ol. I. Cal,” she whimpered.
I smirked against her throat, teeth grazing, biting, soothing with my tongue. “And effective, no?”
Her nails raked down my back to press into my ass, a sharp gasp leaving her lips as I hit deeper, dragging another whimper from her throat. “Fuck you.”
I grinned. “Thought so.”
T he water was hot, nearly scalding as it cascaded over my shoulders, washing away sweat, sex, and the lingering scent of Rhea on my skin.
I would miss having her in my nose, but it was cool.
She was firmly implanted in my head.
There hadn’t been some grand decision made, and certainly no plans. She’d showered, put her dress back on, kissed me in a way that made it painfully hard not to fuck her again, and then… left.
As if this had just been some kind of one night stand.
If only she knew.
The moment that door closed behind her, my brain had gone right to work trying to fit these developments into the puzzle of what was coming next. Seeing her in my life—us, years into the future, the ring, the positive pregnancy test I’d teased her about, all of that—was one thing.
Knowing how it all landed?
That was something else.
Would she be back tomorrow?
Would I see her next week?
Or… did I fuck something up by letting it happen too soon?
I let out a sharp exhale, leaning forward against the shower wall.
I couldn’t let the possibilities mess with my head. The next thing on my agenda was my daily workout—fight prep was already in motion. I had an exhibition match lined up in two months, nothing major, but necessary to keep me sharp before my next title defense…
The title defense I hadn’t actually seen, but had to be coming.
I had to stay locked in.
So far, staying ready for a match had made my love life, or lack thereof, very easy.
When I said I wasn’t looking for a relationship, the shit was true.
I was focused.
With Rhea—unblurred—in the picture?
Focus… might be a problem.
I stepped out of the shower to towel off, get dressed, and head toward my workout room. The second I picked up my phone from the nightstand, it started buzzing in my hand— Blue .
I smirked, shaking my head as I answered. “What’s up?”
“Oh, damn,” Blue’s voice came through the line. “I’m surprised you answered. Thought you’d be too busy getting champagne poured down your throat again.”
“Come on, man,” I chuckled. “It’s been a month, and it was a celebration!”
“Ay, a woman looking like that could put anything but a dick in my mouth,” he cackled. “Trust me, I understand. Seriously though, congratulations. I was letting some of the chaos die down before I reached out. Look at you—heavyweight belt, endorsements, bad bitches, and still humble enough to answer my call. I respect it.”
I chuckled, stretching my neck from side to side as I walked into my weight room. “I’ll take all the gassing up I can get. Everything cool though?”
“If they weren’t, I wouldn’t be putting that shit on you anyway,” he said. “Just a couple things… I already told you the first one. But two —when’s the last time you pulled up at the clubhouse?”
I exhaled through my nose. “You mean, when’s the last time I took you niggas’ money at that pool table on a random Tuesday?”
“Not mine, them other niggas,” he laughed. “But nah, it ain’t even about that. We’re putting together the summer boxing thing again.”
That got my attention as I sat down at the bench. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Energy with the other clubs has been getting a little weird lately. Predators gotta be a little more visible I think. Get together with the Cartwright Center, make it a real mentorship thing, not just kids coming to hit a bag for a few weeks then falling right back into bullshit. Thought of you first.”
“Yeah, I’m in,” I told him, no hesitation. “Just let me know what you need.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Blue said. “We’ll talk more soon, but I am expecting you to bring your ass by the clubhouse before summer, nigga. You not too famous for the family.”
I smirked, rubbing my beard. “Never that. But hey… what do you mean about weird energy with the other clubs? You not talking about those Marauders motherfuckers I know…”
“Nah… Renegados actually. I don’t know what the fuck they’ve got going on, but some of their people have just been a little aggressive. Trying to be on some turf war shit. I’m gonna chop it up with their president though, get it squashed on that level. But in the meantime… like I said. Visibility.”
“Let me know what I can do.”
“You can keep your ass out of trouble,” he chuckled, then went quiet for a moment. “Pops would be really fuckin’ proud of you.”
I swallowed, my grip tightening around the phone as a rush of heat moved through my chest.
I didn’t talk about Blue’s “Pops” often, but I heard Jesse’s voice every time I stepped into the ring.
Every time I tightened my gloves.
Every time I made a choice that kept me on the path he put me on.
“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat. “I like to think so.”
“I know so,” he countered. “He looked at your nut ass like family, and you got my momma asking about you. She saw those pictures too, wants to know if you’re marrying Sunny.”
I frowned. “Sunny?”
“Nigga… Rhea. The one that was holding the bottle.”
“I know that; how do you know her?”
“Everybody knows Sunny,” he said simply. “She’s the face of Reverie. I feel like you already know that shit, since you were looking at her like you were in love in that footage.” Blue cackled. “Why you wanna know how I know her? I didn’t fuck her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I wouldn’t have given a fuck.” I shrugged, as if he could see me. “What’s mine is mine either way.”
Blue let out a bark of laughter. “That’s what I like to hear.”
I smirked, shaking my head as I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “You still didn’t really answer my question about how you knew her.”
“Ain’t shit to answer,” Blue said. “Like I told you—everybody knows Sunny, from the Dream Girl shit. It’s fun, it’s a vibe, everybody loves her. And you know Reverie is real protective of those girls, so don’t be on any bullshit. My Pops might’ve saved your ass from the streets, but I don’t know if I could—or would—save you from the Whitfields.”
I let out a quiet chuckle, but my grip on the phone tightened.
Jesse had, indeed, saved me from the streets… and myself.
It was a favor I’d tried to return.
I saw what was coming for him, saw myself at the funeral.
I told him to move different, be careful, without telling him how I knew, tried to make it seem like normal worry.
And he didn’t brush me off. He took more security, more precautions.
Right into a fucking trap that got more people killed.
That was the last time I ever tried to change the course of a vision, for fear of the absolute worst.
I cleared my throat. “I’ve got nothing but good intentions.”
“Bet,” Blue said. “Just don’t forget about the summer program.”
“I won’t.”
I set my phone down, exhaling.
I’d learned the hard way not to try to intervene, to change what I’d seen.
This thing with Rhea was a future I hadn’t fully seen, unfolding in real-time.
I might need to pull Kingston or Delaney, make sure nobody at Recoverie would hold our relationship against her, make sure I wasn’t about to fuck up something she’d worked hard to earn.
Rhea could hold her own.
No doubt about that.
But if me being in the picture put a target on her back?
I needed to know that now.
So I could be the one to take the hit.