I grab the knob, but just before I twist it, instinct whispers to head to the library. There hasn’t been one time my instinct has failed me, so I release the doorknob and retrace my steps down the hallway. I make a left at the stairs and head to the wide, closed double doors of the library.
It makes sense. Even as a child, the library had been one of Ember’s favorite hiding places from my mother.
From me.
Clenching my jaw, I open one of the doors and step inside the shadowed room. It doesn’t take me long to locate her lush, thickbody perched on one of the huge armchairs in front of the desk. Her head is bent over an open book, and as I cross the room, she doesn’t lift it or acknowledge my presence in any way.
“I didn’t take you for a runner, ma.”
“I didn’t take you for a bitch-made asshole.” She flips a page. “No, wait. That’s exactly what I’ve always taken you for.”
“Look at me, Ember.” When she doesn’t, I move to the side of her chair. “I’m not gon’ say it again.”
Sighing, she closes the book, and the cover reveals the title:Titus Andronicus. Shit. I’m not surprised she’s reading a tragedy where a man cooks his enemies’ sons into a pie and serves it to their mother. She’d appreciate that kind of creative get-back. Hell, I do, too.
She turns in the chair, tilts her head back, and silently meets my gaze.
“I’ve warned you about that mouth. It’s reckless as fuck and gon’ write a check that fat, juicy ass can’t cash. If anyone else talked to me the way you have tonight, they wouldn’t have a tongue.”
“So I can’t be disrespectful, but you can.”
“How have I disrespected you, Ember?”
She barks out a sharp crack of laughter. “Calculated obtuseness isn’t a good look, Asad. Do better.” Standing, she circles me to the shelves and returns the book. Dragging a disgusted look up and down my frame, she huffs out a rough chuckle and heads toward the doors. “Let me get out of here before I commit bodily harm.”
“Nah.” I move and step in front of her, blocking her from leaving the library. “You had your chance to leave. Answer the question.”
“Nah,” she mocks me, curling her lip in a derisive smirk. “Everybody in this house, thisfamily”—she sneers the word as if it tastes like deep-fried shit on her tongue—“in this fucking organization bows to you. You get what you want, whether it’s by misguided loyalty, that li’l dick that’s for everybody, or threats.Who the fuck tells you no? Well, you know what, muthafucka? No. Dig deep in that problematic brain and figure out the answer to your own question because I’m fresh outta explanations. Ninety-two percent, muthafucka. I’m resting.”
Those golden eyes glow with her hatred, and that slick-ass mouth has the same antipathy burning in my chest.
Gotdamn.
I want to choke slam the shit out of her.
I want to fuck the lining out of that pussy.
My fingers curl. Straighten.
Curl.
Straighten.
I can almost feel the flutter of her pulse under my palm. Feel that same tremble around my dick as she stretches to accept me. Molds to me.
Now it’s me who takes a step in retreat.
Either that or we’re both going to have an epic case of rug burn.
“First, li’l baby,” I say, lifting a hand and trailing my thumb over the shallow dent in her chin and down to her throat. It’s a mistake to touch her, but one thing she said about me is correct. I get what I want, and I don’t deny myself shit. I press the tip of my thumb into the cradle of her collarbone, savoring the evidence of life that flows through her veins. “Ain’t nothing little about this dick, and you just talking shit with that one. Second, I stand on me not disrespecting you. When did I do it, Ember? Was it when I introduced you as my fiancée? Was it when I invited you to come up there with me so you could show everyone in that room you’re not to be fucked with? Was it when I didn’t jack your li’l ass up for saying fuck me in front of Kareem and—”
“Don’t say her name to me,” she snaps, slashing a hand between us. “Maybe it’s when you let her hang all over you like a thrift-store suit or let her sit at your side in a place of honor at your table. Or maybe it’s when you crept off to get your dick sucked after a sideshow of murder and torture.”
Several moments of silence throb between us like a primitive drumbeat.
Gotdamn. None of that other shit meant a thing to me, but I can see how it would look to her. And possibly others. Yeah, I get it. But…
“Didn’t shit happen in the study.” She scoffs and attempts to move around me, but I shift, blocking her once more. Lowering my head, I shove my face close to hers until I can taste the smokey and citrusy flavor of her whiskey-scented breath. “Didn’t shit. Happen. In that. Study.”