Page 65 of Collateral Love
I looked at him and saw everything I’d been avoiding naming—his loyalty, his violence, his discipline, his stupidity, his quiet acts of care like making sure I ate, making sure men who disrespected me learned better, making sure I never had to carry the worst of this life alone, even when I insisted on doing it.
“Yes,” I said.
The word felt like stepping off a ledge I’d been standing on for years.
He exhaled once, as if something in him relaxed.
“I love you too,” he said. “Been loved you. I loved you when your bold ass propositioned me to be your partner.”
My laugh came out shaky. “You loved me when I pulled a gun on you in the library?”
“Especially then,” he said. “You're the only woman that ever made me feel like I needed to step my shit up.”
We sat there, hearts beating loud in the quiet, the engine ticking, the night stretching out around us like a held breath.
“I’m scared,” I admitted.
“Me too,” he said easily. “Difference is, I’m done pretendin’ I’m not.”
“You know what happens if this doesn’t work,” I said. “We don’t get to just break up and walk away. It breaks the business. It breaks the trust. It breaks the system that keeps my sister’s tuition paid and my brother’s appeal moving. It breaks your name in these streets.”
“It also jeopardizes my mom's payment for her home health aid and the money I’m saving for X to retire from this life unscathed. I know the stakes,” he said. “I ain’t a kid.”
“Then why aren’t you more afraid?” I demanded.
He smiled, small and devastating.
“‘Cause you’re the only variable in my life that ever made shit feel less chaotic, not more,” he said. “Every time you touched somethin’, it got clearer, tighter, and more secure. Why would I think loving you gon’ be any different?”
My chest hurt.
“You really trust me that much?” I whispered.
“With everything,” he said without hesitation. “With my brother. With my business. With my life. The only thing I been scared to trust you with is my heart. But shit, you already hold it. I’m just late admittin’ it.”
Tears burned hot behind my eyes. I blinked them back.
“Don’t make me soft,” I said.
He shook his head. “I want you soft because I’m always gon keep you safe. There’s a difference.”
I swallowed hard.
“We can’t tell anybody,” I said. “Not yet. Not the runners. Not your crew. Not X. Not my family. It stays between us until I’m sure we can carry this and everything else without dropping shit.”
“Whatever you say,” he replied. “You run the structure. I run the enforcement.”
A laugh slipped out. “You really okay letting me lead?”
“I ain’t lettin’ you,” he said. “You already do.”
The air felt thick.
He reached over then, slow enough to let me pull away if I wanted.
I didn’t.
His fingers slipped around the back of my neck, warm and solid. He tugged gently, pulling me toward him across the console.
