Page 35 of Rose
“Come on, ma,” the man pressed, still lingering.
Savior stepped up.
“Didn’t she say she was good?” His voice was low, but lethal. Just loud enough to make the man—and her—look up.
And when she did, Savior forgot how to breathe.
Her eyes… golden brown. Not just beautiful—dangerous. They sparkled in the Miami sun like they’d seen heaven and hell and came back with both in their reflection. But even beneath that glow, he saw it—the darkness. The pain.
“Man, she good. We just chattin’,” the guy said, puffing up like he had something to prove.
Savior didn’t know him. Never seen his face before. Which meant he was new to this side of Miami—or stupid enough to be suicidal.
“I know she good,” Savior said, eyes locking with hers again.
“Butyounot gon’ be… if you don’t move the fuck around.”
The man mugged him. “The fuck you gone do?”
The entire block froze. Music dimmed, conversations died, heat thickened. Even time held its breath. From inside the shop, A’Mazi and Kyre stepped out. Macho followed, eyes on Savior like he already knew what was about to unfold.
Savior smiled.
Not just any smile. That slow, soulless grin he only pulled when death felt close.
Kyre’s voice cut through the tension, concerned and urgent.
“Ahzii, you good?”
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. She was frozen against her bike, watching the devil in Timbs face off with a fool who didn’t realize how close he was to the grave.
“Last warning, pussy. Take it… I don’t give ‘em out twice.”
His voice didn’t rise. Didn’t flinch. But it sent a chill racing down Ahzii’s spine.
“I’m fine,” she finally said, desperate to defuse whatever hell was about to explode. “I promise.”
And then the man sealed his fate.
“This yo bitch or somethin’?”
Before Savior could move, A’Mazi did. A fist flew out of nowhere, cracking straight into the man’s jaw, followed by another—and another.
“What you call mysister, nigga?” A’Mazi barked, knuckles flying as the man stumbled back, blood splattering.
Ahzii gasped, heart slamming in her chest as she jumped to intervene, but before she could, strong arms wrapped around her waist.
Savior.
He pulled her back with a firm grip that was more possessive than protective, and her body tensed in his arms—but she didn’t fight it.
And Savior? For a moment, he didn’t care about the man getting beat to hell five feet away. All he could think about was howrightshe felt against him. The way her body fit into his like it was made for him.
And that scared the hell out of him.
But he didn’t let go.
“Stop, Maz!” Ahzii’s voice rang out, frantic and broken, still trapped in Savior’s arms as she struggled against his hold. But A’Mazi wasn’t listening. He was too far gone, fists slamming into the man’s face over and over, each hit darker than the last.
