Page 88 of Riot

“I want to create a line that’s both powerful and feminine. That uses lots of color, structure and sexy silhouettes. I think I want to use a lot of leather and I want it colored leather. Leather in my opinion is one of the most powerful fabrics there is. But I want to pair it with colorful silks too. I want to show the dichotomy of power and sexy. This line will before women who want to express their full womanhood. For women who have been suppressed and are ready to live body.”

I nodded slowly, letting her speak without interruption. I loved hearing her talk about her goals and dreams. Her passion and intelligence was inspiring to me.

“I stopped believing in the dream after a while. After all those years of wearing white… I stopped seeing color, you know?” Her voice cracked just a little, and she cleared her throat. “But lately, I’ve been feeling it again. Like I’m waking up. ”

I set my glass down and reached for her hand, threading my fingers through hers. Who the fuck was I becoming?

“You haven’t lost the dream,” I said. “It’s just been paused. And now? You got space to dream big again.”

She looked up at me, hopeful. “Do you think I could really… make it?”

“Hell yeah. You was sounding’ all confident a second ago. Don’t lose that shit. You can definitely make it. And I have a few connects. I got a few folks that owe me favors. Whenever you’re ready we’ll make it happen.”

Her eyes shimmered. “That would mean everything.”

I leaned in and kissed her knuckles. “Then it’s done.”

We sat like that a while, sipping wine and talking plans. She told me all about fabric, color stories, and themes. She was excited, nervous, but electric with possibility. I could see her vision already forming, and I wanted to be the one who helped make it real.

Then she shifted a bit, setting her glass down with a more serious look. “Can I tell you something without you getting mad?”

I raised an eyebrow. “That depends.”

“It’s about the animals,” she said gently. “The ones at the compound.”

I stilled. “Okay.”

“They’re beautiful,” she started, “and I get that you care for them. But watching them... locked up like that—it reminded me too much of what I went through. That kind of captivity… it changes you. Even if they look calm, they’re not free.”

Her voice was soft but full of conviction, and I felt every word.

I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over my jaw. “Damn.”

“I’m not judging,” she added quickly. “I just thought… maybe you’d understand.”

I stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. “I do. I get it.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“I’ve been holdin’ on to some of them animals for the wrong reasons. Trying to prove I wasn’t afraid. That I could control danger. But maybe it’s time to let that go too.”

She smiled, relieved, and something unknotted inside me. I didn’t need those cages to feel strong anymore. Not when I had this woman looking at me like I was already something more than muscle and rage.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I squeezed her hand. “Nah. Thank you for makin’ me think.”

We didn’t speak much after that. Just curled into each other, the weight of everything starting to shift. I felt it in my bones—something was changing. In her. In me. In us.

And for once, I didn’t want to run from it.

I wanted to see where it led.

The rest of the night passed easy between us. After our talk, we finished the bottle of wine and watched a some girly ass movie about fashion. The Devil Wear’s Prada. She said it was one her faves before she was kidnapped. The shit was way to feminine for me. Normally, I would’ve tapped out halfway through. But with her tucked against my side, her head on my chest, I stayed with it.

Eventually, she dozed off there, right on me.

I carried her to bed.

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