Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 108768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
College came.
I got a scholarship and did a big chop on my hair, cutting it all off.
Freshmen year, I rocked a sassy afro.
Sophomore year, I shifted to braided crowns and Bantu knots.
Those were the days when I felt an immediate connection with my heritage, every style telling a different story, a different chapter of my life.
Then, mom got sick.
I dropped out sophomore year and returned home to help her with my sisters.
Hair and any other form of self-care took a backstage to my family.
But now. . .I have a house. . .I have a briefcase of money. . .I have time.
I rinsed the soap off my head and touched the short hairs again.
I smiled.
Dreadlocks? Twists? Or perhaps a short, curly afro?
So many thoughts spun in my head.
What would this new hair journey symbolize?
Would it be a resilience? Or a nod to rebirth?
As the droplets trickled down my head, Lei’s face flashed in my mind and all thought of hair vanished.
From our unexpected meeting, to now, it was all an adventure, throwing my once-predictable life into this whirlwind of chaos and emotions.
With him, every minute was unpredictable, and every hour brought with it new challenges and surprises.
Then a sudden and sharp gunshot pierced the silence.
I froze.
Okay. That was definitely a gun.
Every muscle in my body tensed. My hands clung to the shower wall for support. My mind raced with possibilities, attempting to put together the jigsaw pieces of sound and context.
Was someone in trouble, or was it a mere accident related to the feast’s preparations?
Panicking, I turned off the water.
My nerves perked up on high alert.
Something is definitely happening, and I won’t be butt naked and, in a shower, while it goes down.
I spun around and screamed. “Ah!”
To my utter shock, Lei stood behind me. Less than two feet away, right in the damn shower.
“Oh my God!” I stepped back fast, my feet nearly slipping on the wet floor. “H-how long have you been there?”
His towering presence took up the entrance, eyes darkened with an intensity I had never seen before.
Every ounce of his being radiated sheer fury.
Scared to say anything else, I studied him, trying to get some clues.
Rips marred his blue athletic pants. Dirt caked his sneakers.
He wore no shirt.
What had once probably been a pristine white bandage on his right arm was now a dirty, reddened mess, dangling off his elbow.
But what truly shook me to my core was the blood. Splatters of it painted his face and dripped onto his chiseled chest.
So. . .that really was screaming I heard earlier.
My heart boomed in my ears.
But. . .was he the one who made the person scream? And where did all that blood come from?
Chapter nine
Shades of Blue
Monique
Steam rose around him.
The air between us was charged with tension.
My throat tightened.
His piercing gaze held mine, trapping me in its furious intensity.
I struggled to find words, my voice a mere whisper against the overwhelming silence.
“Lei...?” I managed to stammer.
He stepped closer, dirtying up the shower floor. “I should apologize.”
“O-okay.” I edged back. “Apologize for what?”
“It’s clear that there is a serious misunderstanding between us.” He lowered his eyes to my wet breasts and grunted.
My stomach twisted. “Lei?”
He snapped his view back to my face.
“Why. . .” I swallowed. “W-why is there blood on your face and chest?”
“Why did you think Rowe Street Mob could be around you?”
I shrieked. “No. . .No. You didn’t k-kill them. Right? Lei?”
He narrowed his eyes. A dangerous glint flickered through them. “I can barely deal with my cousin being around you—”
“Did you kill them?”
“And you think that I would let five guys that I don’t know—”
“Lei!” I covered my breasts with my arms. “D-did you kill them?”
“Would it matter?”
“Yes.”
“It wouldn’t.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Cold horror replaced the warmth of the shower. I was now trapped in this small space with a clear psycho.
He glared. “No.”
“No? No, what?”
“I didn’t kill them.”
I let out an exasperated breath. “Jesus. Christ.”
“No one watches you, but Four Aces—”
“Who’s blood is that?”
“Their blood.”
I widened my eyes. “Hold on. You hurt them?”
“A lot.”
“Oh my God.” I rushed by him and was thankful that he let me leave the shower. For all I knew, he might have kept me in there.
I rushed to grab a blue towel, quickly wrapped it around my body, and hurried out of there.
Once I stepped into the sleeping section, another shocking surprise came.
Who the hell are they?
I nearly tripped over my own feet.
Four women were on the other side of the bed.
Each one stood as if carved from stone, poised and imposing. Their dark blue suits were tailored to perfection, and it was clear these women were no strangers to physical combat.
One had a prominent jagged scar running across her cheek. Another’s biceps bulged.
Regardless, all four of them had a stiff posture, stern expressions, and held handcuffs.
“Uhh. . .” I backed up. “What’s going on?”