Chapter Thirty-Three Eason Storm
The city lights burned low beneath them, a gritty blur of gold and neon against the night sky.
I sat on the edge of the rooftop gym’s ledge, hoodie pulled low, jaw clenched tight, and a silence hanging between me and Kavell like a loaded gun.
Kavell stood beside me, arms folded, watching the city with sharp eyes that had seen every version of me, from loyal soldier to unhinged protector.
But tonight wasn’t about war plans or who needed to be handled next.
Tonight was about truth. About the man I was becoming. And the line I was toeing between vengeance and peace.
Kavell didn’t sugarcoat shit. He never had. And as he lit his cigar and exhaled slow, heavy smoke into the air, he looked me dead in the eye and said what nobody else would.
“You love her, yeah. You protecting her, I see that. But what you gon’ do when protecting her turns you into the same type of monster that broke her in the first place?”
The rooftop was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that forces a man to face his reflection without the glass.
My brow twitched as I turned to look at Kavell like he’d grown two damn heads. “Nigga… fuck is you even talking ‘bout?” I growled, my voice low and sharp, already defensive as hell.
Kavell didn’t flinch. Just looked at me the same way he always had when I started spiraling—like he was trying to pull me back from the edge without dragging me.
“I don’t blame you for protecting your family,” he said, calm but heavy, each word weighted. “Lines been crossed. Niggas been playing in your face. But do you turn that shit off long enough to give her something soft? Do you ever make her feel safe without making her feel caged?”
I clenched my jaw, that heat climbing up the back of my neck. “Yo… you my brother and I love you, but why the fuck you sound so concerned with my bitch?” I narrowed my eyes, voice dropping to a snarl. “You got something you wanna say? ‘Cause I’ll have Mama picking out another black dress.”
The second it left my mouth, I knew I was wildin’.
I knew Kavell would never cross me like that.
His heart had been shut down since his fiancée died after giving birth to my niece.
He wasn’t checking for nobody. But still just the thought of anyone implying I didn’t love Xalori right?
That I could be the reason she ever doubted me? It made me crazy.
My crazy for her didn’t come with brakes.
Kavell raised a brow. “Your bitch?” he repeated, skepticism dripping from the way he said it.
“My bitch. My woman. My baby mama. My future wife. My fuckin’ peace and my personal demon,” I muttered, tilting my head. “Moral of the story? Mine. You better start explaining before Prime ain’t the only one I’m digging a hole for tonight.”
Kavell scoffed, a low laugh leaving his throat. “I ain’t worried. You know I don’t fear death, Eas. But I fear watching you ruin the one person who actually saved you.”
That hit different.
He continued, “She’s not some prize to be guarded, bruh. She’s a person. She got cracks already. Trauma. Loss. Love that got ripped outta her hands too early. You trying to hold her so tight that she suffocates, that ain’t love—that’s control with a pretty name.”
I didn’t say shit for a long second. Because I heard him. Didn’t like it, but I heard him.
“You know she’s the best thing that ever happened to you,” he added, voice soft now. “And to my niece. But love ain’t always fists and fire, Eas. Sometimes it’s silence. Sometimes it’s letting her cry without asking her to stop. Sometimes it’s letting her breathe.”
I looked down at my hands. My knuckles scarred, my fingers twitching.
“I ain’t never gon’ be like Prime,” I said hoarsely. “He abandoned her. I carry her. Every fuckin’ day.”
“I know. But if you ain’t careful,” Kavell warned, standing from the bench and clapping a hand to my shoulder, “you gon’ become a different kind of monster. One with good intentions but the same end result.”
I didn’t say shit else. I sat there on that rooftop, city lights burning under my boots, jaw clenched, heart heavy.
And right then, I made a quiet decision. I’d unmirror her phone. Remove the cameras I’d hidden in her car and around the house. Not because I ain’t still want to know everything, but because Kavell was right.
She wasn’t a possession. She was my peace. My proof I was still human. My reason to keep building this life and not just defending it.
I could still be unhinged. Still be ready for war. But for her, I’d learn how to be soft without breaking.
Kavell took a step toward the edge of the rooftop, eyes on the skyline like he was weighing whether to keep pushing or let the moment breathe.
“Don’t fuck this up, Eason.”
I turned my head slow, jaw already ticking. “What you say?”
“You heard me.”
I stood up, posture straightening like my body refused to let anything be soft too long. “Watch your tone.”
“No. You watch yours,” Kavell snapped, turning to face me, his voice low but solid. “You can be mad. Be territorial. Be all the wild-ass storm you need to be when it’s time to protect your family. I get that. You meant to be a beast when it comes to them.”
His eyes met mine. “But she don’t need a beast all the time, Eas. Sometimes she needs stillness. Needs peace. And if you don’t learn the difference—if you keep fighting everything with the same fists—you gon’ end up breaking her heart without ever raising a hand.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words got stuck. Because I’d seen that look on Xalori’s face before. When she flinched and tried to hide it. When she pulled back just a little too fast, like her body was trying to protect itself before her brain even realized she didn’t have to anymore.
I hated that shit.
“I give her peace,” I muttered, voice low. “I do.”
“Then keep giving it,” Kavell said. “Live it. Don’t just say you love her, love her in a way that makes her feel safe even when the world ain’t. Love her without watching her every move. Without scaring her into silence. Without mistaking her softness for weakness.”
The wind cut between us, sharp, clean, and truthful.
“She’s got babies to raise,” he said. “A body that’s been through hell. A mind that’s still healing. She don’t need to be fighting you too, Eas. Not even accidentally.”
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t because he was right. All this time, I’d been pouring everything into protecting her, shielding her. But if I wasn’t careful, I’d be the storm she needed shelter from.
Kavell clapped my shoulder again, firm. “You already won, Eason. You got her. The kids. The life y’all building. Don’t lose it trying to love her like she’s something to guard instead of someone to grow with.”
I stared at the skyline for a long time after he walked away.
I didn’t light the cigar, didn’t call her, and didn’t check the cameras. I just stood there and let those words settle in my chest.
She needs peace. And I had to be man enough to give it. I didn’t move for a long time after Kavell left.
I just stood there quietly, letting the wind cut through the weight on my chest like maybe it could strip me down to what really mattered. The truth was, I could fight the world for her. But I couldn’t own her.
She wasn’t mine to control. She was mine to cherish. To protect. To choose every single day—without shackling her in my grip like she was something I could lose just because I wasn’t hovering close enough.
Loving her meant releasing that chokehold I’d gotten comfortable with. It meant stop watching her through mirrored phones and hidden cameras like fear was a compass I couldn’t stop checking. That ain’t love. That’s survival. And she deserved more than survival.
I pressed my palms to the edge of the rooftop ledge and let my eyes close. I wanted her to stay. But I needed to become a man who gave her every reason to. Not a trap, not a prison but a home. A reason to exhale. A place that felt like peace and not possession.
My fists uncurled slowly, and that’s when I felt the shift. A low hum in my chest that told me—for the first time—I wasn’t loving her like a weapon. I was loving her like a choice, a prayer, and a soft place to land.
And I’d rather lose her to freedom than keep her in fear. Because if she stays, it’ll be because I finally became a place worth staying for. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that. Starting tonight.
The moment I stepped off that rooftop, I wasn’t just Eason the protector. I was Eason the executioner. And tonight, judgment was overdue.