Chapter 1
Navy Achebe
"Navy."
The gruffness of his voice tickled my ear, stirring me from my sleep.
Light taps against my thigh followed, disturbing some of the best sleep of my life.
Then again, that was a lie. Anytime I fell asleep in the bed I shared with my man, the most incredible peace washed over me.
That's just who Honor was to me… my peace in human form.
His body pressed against mine. His scent wrapped around me, shielding me from nightmares of a haunted past. Even when he didn't make it home before I fell asleep, just cuddling his pillow or wearing the last t-shirt he wore was enough for me.
The taps continued, shifting from light to heavy.
I didn't bother opening my eyes because I knew exactly who was getting on my damn nerves.
Usually, it was my taps that woke Honor.
My body had grown used to his morning routine, and after being together for so long, his routine became ours.
Most mornings, we woke up and ran three miles together.
This was our version of meditation. Whatever happened, the day before, whatever clutter fogged our minds, we left it on the trail or sought answers through the clarity running gave.
But what happened yesterday wasn't something we could solve with a run, and acting as if we could was ludicrous.
After being gone for two months, Crown finally came home.
Happy didn't begin to describe how I felt when he called me and said, "Navy, a real nigga's coming home.
" Crown going away was the best thing for him.
His relationship with River had skeletons on both sides, fighting their way out of the dirt.
Too much was happening, and Crown deserved a sound voice to guide him through unresolved feelings stemming from losing his mother, his codependency with his brothers, and his fear of becoming his father.
As much as I championed Crown for doing what I've nagged all three of the brothers to do, I couldn't lie and say his presence wasn't missed.
Family dinners didn't feel the same without Crown's jokes and boisterous laughter.
Without Crown, Gravehart Grove didn't feel like home.
Before he left, a fire simmered between the brothers.
Not so much Wolfe, but Honor and Crown were at each other's necks.
I cursed Honor's ass out and gave him the silent treatment for a few days after their fight in the hospital.
I couldn't believe the two of them would even engage in dumb shit like that, especially with Honor recovering from being shot.
Crown going away gave them time to cool off, or so I thought.
Crown came back, and, from my understanding, nothing had been resolved.
Honor still had a chip on his shoulder, and Crown was willing to walk away from it all.
Our close-knit family had somehow unraveled, leaving behind a tangled mess for me to fix, since that has always been my job amongst the brothers.
Keeping them together kept my world spinning on its axis.
Not to say they were my whole life, but the three of them gave me purpose, each teaching me a different form of love.
Much like Honor, Crown was a man in an adolescent body when I met him.
Life had thrown vicious punches Crown's way.
He ate every punch and taught himself how to survive in a world that feared black boys more than it loved them.
The difficulties of his past burdened him, but only on the inside.
To the world, Crown walked with an invisible crown placed on his head by the strength of the woman who spoke life into him from the day he was born until her dying breath.
The amount of pride Crown moved with was unexplainable and made men twice his age feel small.
Mr. John, who used to run Gravehart Homes when the brothers lived there, fed Crown pills, thinking that if he were an addict, his confidence would shrink and dim that bright light of his.
Crown wasn't built to break, but even the strong ones had their days, and when Crown had his, he came to me.
His fears were mine to replace with encouraging words, the same way his mother used to.
It didn't matter that I was only a couple of years older.
Crown needed someone to give him reassurance.
Through him, I learned how to love someone without being their savior but as a steady place for them to land.
I learned love didn't have to be romantic.
It could be as simple as showing up when the world turns away.
I loved Crown like a sibling, but differently from how I loved my actual brother.
It was deeper, and there was a sense of protectiveness because Crown trusted me with things the world would never know.
Then, there was Wolfe.
Where Crown was a sibling, Wolfe might as well have been my child.
When I met him, he was six years my junior and broken.
Through his eyes, he didn't believe life was worth living.
Mr. John had a hand in trying to break Wolfe, too.
He paid a few of the older kids to bully Wolfe.
The day Honor called me, I stole my mother's van and drove to Gravehart Homes.
Wolfe was there, with a broken nose, listening to Honor scold him for not standing up for himself.
I thought Honor was being too tough on him.
I preferred he handle Mark so Wolfe wouldn't have to, but what lesson would that teach?
Wolfe didn't need my protection or Honor's.
He needed to believe he could protect himself rather than wait for someone to save him.
Honor took Wolfe under his wing, but I stayed close.
Loving Wolfe meant patience. It was listening to him even when he didn't speak.
I always showed up for him because his mother not doing so broke him.
Wolfe taught me the kind of love that trusts healing will come as long as you keep showing up for that person.
Crown and Wolfe taught me so much about love, but even more about myself. Without them, I probably wouldn't have brought Gravehart Homes. But underneath what they've given me was something more… possessive. There was a love carved into my bones like scripture on parchment, and it belonged to Honor.
That love didn't teach. It didn't nurture. That love haunted me.
It's the type of love to thin the air when he's not around.
It quietly burned behind every choice I made, any risk I might've taken.
Falling for Honor was never a choice. It was fate, or whatever was the equivalent.
Our love was stubborn to the point we had to fight tooth and nail to protect it.
Still, I would fight every day of my life because this love…
his love… always been like the realest thing my heart has ever known.
And a love like that didn't happen twice in a lifetime.
"Navy!" he gritted, bringing me back to the issue at hand.
"Leave me alone, Honor. I'm not running until we talk about how we're going to piece this family back together."
"That's your word?"
"Yes… Honor… that's my word."
A chill swept across my skin when I heard that ghostly laugh Honor did whenever someone thought he wasn't about to have his way.
I braced myself for whatever came next because I meant what I said.
This family we've built meant the world to me.
I refused to watch it crumble behind egos and unhealed trauma.
"Navy, get up." His voice became nice and raspy, just how I liked it.
On the inside, I was beaming. I knew Honor just as well as I knew myself. Nibbling on my lip, I waited for one of two things to happen. Either he'll leave me alone and duck off somewhere, giving me time to think about my actions, or his dick will pummel into me until I give in to his demands.
"Navy."
This time, my name came out in a low, sexy whisper that brought my clit to life. Soft pulses with anticipation stretching between each one. I squeezed my thighs together, praying it would slow the pulses.
"Squeezing your legs together won't stop shit," he continued, and was right.
It never did.
In Honor's mind, we were to always move in unison.
He leads, and I follow. So, when I wobbled off the path, it was his job to remind me of my place.
A tongue glossing a woman's second set of lips might've been how most men got their women to submit, but not my man.
That delicacy came after he marked me, and I declared who I belonged to.
The blanket was yanked off me, and soon after, the mattress dipped, causing my body to grow tense. Honor's hand fell to my hip, and with just enough force, he rolled me onto my back, then once more, so I was facing him.
"Look at me, Navy."
Unable to deny his growled request, my eyes fluttered open, and our eyes connected. The mattress dipped beneath his weight once more. Those haunting yet hypnotic eyes lowered toward my lips, and mine followed his in an unspoken game of tag.
"Honor," I whispered, desperate to feel him on me, in me, in any way he chose.
My hunger for him was so deviant, so insatiable that I often thought I was losing my mind and Honor loved it.
Breathlessly, I called his name once more. "Honor."
Ignoring me, he took his time shifting his weight.
What was the rush when my body belonged to him, worshipped him, broke into a million pieces for him?
I was his, and he knew it, so he toed the line.
Sliding his hand from my waist to brace himself as his body hung over mine.
His knees went to knock my legs apart, but they were already spread, waiting to accept him.
"Honor." The moan slipped out from the heat of our bodies, barely touching. This was the space between request and fulfillment.
"What do you want, Navy?" His hand dropped back to my waist and tugged at my lace thong.
One pull.