Page 47 of Believe in Me

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Are you dangerous?”

“Do you think I am, Doc? Do I feel dangerous to you?”

“You feel dangerously addictive to me, but I mean, are you violent?”

I shrugged. “I can be. But you don’t have to worry about that. I’d never hurt you.”

“You’ve killed?”

“If I did kill someone, it would’ve been in self-defense.”

“So you have killed someone?”

“Technically, no.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I have never directly killed anyone.”

“But you have ordered someone be killed?”

“Give me your address, and I’ll answer that question.”

“Am I safe with you? Is anyone looking for you?”

I almost dropped my fork. “Doc, I will rip a motherfucker’s beating heart out their chest if they even look at you the wrong way. And what I don’t finish, Rell will.”

“Do you own a gun?”

“More than one.”

“Will you hurt me?”

“What? No! I wouldn’t put my hands on you!”

“I mean my heart.”

I leaned back in my chair. “You think I’d do what your ugly-ass husband did to you?”

She frowned. “How’d you know he’s ugly? Did I tell you that?”

Shit. I shook my head. “I just figured he was. Now answer my question.”

She dropped her eyes to her plate. “I don’t know, Zo. I just know nothing really frightens me about you, not your past profession or any potential danger attached to it. Not the fact that you’ve probably caused a few deaths. I know those things should scare me, but they don’t. What petrifies me is having my heart broken again. I cannot go through that again. Being betrayed, disrespected, lied to? I just cannot do it.”

“Doc, I need you to look at me.”

She lifted her eyes to meet mine.

“You see this fine nigga you’re looking at?”

She laughed a light little laugh. “You really are fine.”

“I know, shit. And I’m rich and sexy. Can I get violent? Yeah, I can, but I don’t like to and I’m old enough to know how to exercise some self-control now. But look, one thing I can’t control, don’t want to control, is how I feel about you. I’m crazy about you. I wanna be with you, protect you, take care of you. I want to hurt the people who hurt you. I want you to heal, but I’m so damn selfish, I want you to heal for me, so we can have a future together. I’m asking you to believe in me, Doc. Believe in me and what I’m saying. Believe in us. I’m a smart man, unlike that fool you married. I know when I have something good, something worth holding on to. All that shit your ex did? Been there, done that. I’m ready for something real…with you.”

She leveled a stare at me, opened her mouth, and said, “My address is 116 Du-Lac Circle, Romey, Tennessee, 37027.”

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