Page 44 of Memphis

“Nah, that nigga don’t turn you on like I do. Admit it.”

“Whatever.”

“And, you like the power you know I have.”

She hopped right over that statement. “So, Riley’s last name was really Pierce?”

“No, it was Riley. Me and Zaccai got our mother’s last name. They were never legally married, although they said they were. It was a way to protect the money, but they loved each other, just couldn’t get along for shit outside of business. My parents didn’t have the fairytale yours did.”

“Yeah…well, it ended like a fairytale, arealone. Not the ones they’ve modified for kids. The cradle fell and my mom died.”

“Sorry…again.”

“I’m sorry about your dad, too.”

“Tell me about your mom.”

“You already know all about her. I know you’ve researched her.”

“I don’t mean facts anyone could know. Tell me about who she was to you…her daughter.”

She sighed, her eyes downcast. “She was so beautiful, like otherworldly so. So wise and magnetic. Her laugh was contagious; her humor was unmatched. She was such a good mother. Stern, caring, and accommodating all at the same time. I will never stop missing her.”

“She sounds like an angel.”

“She was.”

“So are you. A dangerous one.”

She smiled, and we both laughed. Then we stared at each other in her bedroom with the black furniture, the only light provided by the small TV on her dresser. She kissed me, and I kissed her back.

“By the way, they definitely lied about the dry pussy thing. Your shit is like a kiddie pool,” I said.

“Shut your stupid ass up,” she replied through a giggle.

I’d never heard her mean ass giggle before. It was nice.

“Hey, I love you,” I told her.

Her eyes met mine, and after a moment of hesitation, she admitted, “I think I love you, too.”

Then…

It’sweird how love works, how it hits you, how it fills you, how undeniable it is, and I desperately wanted to deny it. Bo Pierce was a walking red flag—cocky with interstellar dick. Hell, three months into this little relationship and I was terribly addictedto him, wanting to be with him every second of every day, and I’d never been fatalistic about men. I filed them in a place that kept me focused on my goals, but I guess that didn’t apply to this situation. I had the degree, the apartment, a job, and enough money to buy anything I wanted. I’d accomplished my goals, even the law enforcement one. I made a practice of only accepting jobs where exterminating the client would make the world a better place. Due process can be a hindrance to justice. I was able to dole out my own due process, and as wrong as it was, it seemed right when the target was an evil piece of shit, but weren’t Bo Pierce and his family evil? They recruited me and trained me to be a killer while I was in college, and now, at twenty-three, I was still very green and extremely wet behind the ears and I knew it. Yet, I wasn’t compelled to stop, to quit. Honestly, I might’ve been young, but I did have sense enough to know it wouldn’t be as easy as putting in a two-week notice. The Agency specialized in murder, albeit a very glamorous form of it. If I was allowed to quit, I was sure I’d never feel safe with the knowledge of the company I held. Add to that the fact I’d gotten myself entangled with the boss, and I knew I was in too deep. He’d shared his real name along with those of his brother and mother with me rather than just sticking to coded identities. I knew about the inner workings of the establishment, the hierarchy, the security measures used, all of it shared during pillow talk. He trusted me, and that was a big deal.

“I want you to meet my mom,” he said as we sat on my living room floor eating Chinese food.

I stopped chewing my chow mein, giving him my attention. He looked…determined, as if he knew I would refuse but was dead set on changing my mind.

“Why?” I garbled. It was all I could think to say.

“Because she needs to meet the woman I’m going to marry.”

24

Now…

Ineeded a fucking camera, a fancy paparazzi one because I was sure the one on my phone wouldn’t adequately capture the beauty of my current view. As I sat on the lounger situated on the beach, I watched my wife’s naked form wade intothe ocean. I’d long ago memorized every curve, dimple, and scar on her body, but I never got tired of looking at it. We’d finally reached a goal I set for us long ago—marriage. It took longer than I could’ve ever imagined, but I kept my promise. I was hers, even if she believed she didn’t want me when I knew she did. I also understood her hesitance. I understood why she didn’t trust me anymore, and I was willing to spend every second of the rest of my life proving to her just how much I loved her, that she was all that mattered to me, that I would raze the entire world for her.

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