Page 176 of I See You

Then—his phone rang.

Reality came rushing back, but the voices didn’t leave. Not really.

They never did.

He looked down at the screen—security.

“Boss, there’s a Sevyn Love at the gate,” the voice said, calm and professional.

Hassan’s jaw locked, voice sharp like a blade. “Nigga, you know who the fuck she is. Let her in.”

He hung up and headed downstairs. His demons followed. Quiet this time, but still there, their presence heavy on his back as he approached the door, already knowing who stood on the other side.

And somehow, already knowing she’d see every piece of the man he tried so hard to bury.

He pulled the door open and there she was—still in her work clothes, heels clicking lightly against the porch. She hadn’t even changed. Which meant the moment her last session ended, she drove straight here.

Like always, Sevyn came when he called.

Hesteppedasidewithoutaword,andshewalkedin,wrapping her arms around him the second the door shut behind her. His body tensed on instinct, but her scent, her touch—everything about her— grounded him in place. Like she always did.

When they finally pulled apart, he led her to the living room. The silence stretched between them like a wire pulled too tight.

“I saw the photos…” she finally said, her voice low.

In the far corners of his mind, the voice of ten-year-old Hassan cut in with venom. “Hear the fear in her voice, nigga. She scared of you.”

Hassan’s jaw clenched, his breath slowed. “You scared of me now?” he asked sharply, cutting her off before she could say more.

Sevyn blinked, confused by the sudden edge in his voice. “What? No. They were horrific… but I’m not scared of you. If anything, I understand you more now.”

She stood,movingcloser,hereyessoft—fullofconcern,notfear.

But to Hassan, that wasn’t what he saw.

“She lying. She judging yo ass. And you weak behind that bitch.” Ten-year-old Hassan spat from somewhere behind his eyes.

Sevyn reached out, trying to take his hand in hers, but he jerked away like her touch burned. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

“You think I’m a monster,” he muttered, standing abruptly and turning away from her.

“Hassan…” she said, stunned. Her chest tightened as she followed after him. “Where is this coming from?”

She wasn’t afraid. Not of him. She was terrified for him. She’d rushed straight over because the thought of him spiraling alone haunted her more than anything Braxton had said or shown her.

But standing in front of him now, she realized—Hassan wasn’t just fighting her concern. He was fighting ghosts she couldn’t see. Demons that didn’t want to let him believe someone could care about him and not run.

And that broke her heart most of all.

When she reached out to touch his hand, he jerked away like her skin burned.

“You think I’m a fucking monster,” he muttered again, stepping back like she was the one who’d wounded him.

“No—Hassan, I—” She rushed out, but he turned away again, his chest rising and falling like a man drowning in his own thoughts.

“Hassan, Braxton has photos of you—”

“I know!” he snapped, his voice rising like thunder. “Your bitch- ass ex tryna pin me for murder!”

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