Page 111 of Kentrell

My hand flew to my mouth.

Oh my God.

The slurping grew louder the more Stacia moaned, the sound obscene in the silence of my basement. I pushed the door open just enough to see what I already knew but didn’t want to believe.

And there it was.

Mars.

On her knees.

Between Stacia’s spread thighs.

Her head moved in steady, hungry rhythm, mouth devouring our friend with practiced precision. Ourmarriedfriend.

Shockwaves pulsed through my body.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Or hearing.

Stacia’s head was tossed back, lips parted, hands tangled in Mars’ curls like this was their regular routine. Like it was normal. Casual. Intimate.

Time froze. I stood still, rooted to the carpet, my hand clutching the edge of the door. My heart slammed against myribs, and my mind reeled—scrambling to make sense of it. Not just the betrayal. But the rawness of it all. The power. The need. The shamelessness.

It was repulsive.

And mesmerizing.

All at once.

As if sensing my presence, Mars looked up.

Our eyes locked.

Her lips were still wet when she jerked back, scrambling to her feet, hands tugging at Stacia’s shirt with frantic fingers. But it was too late.

I saw everything.

“Zoe, let me explain—” Stacia’s voice cracked, her cheeks flushed, shame thick in the air.

I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. As if that would erase the image now burned into the back of my eyelids.

I opened my mouth, but the words ripped from me before I could stop them.

“What is there to explain?!” My voice echoed off the walls. “You’re married!”

The weight of that truth hung heavy—like smoke in the air. Then another realization slammed into me just as hard.

“You’re supposed to be friends!”

Mars and Stacia both spoke at once.

“We are!”

“No!” I snapped, shaking my head furiously. “Friends don’t do what I just caught y’all doing!”

Their words rang hollow, their excuses meaningless in the face of what I’d just seen.

I looked at them—at the guilt smeared across both their faces—and felt something inside me fracture.