Page 59 of Taeja

Realizing she needed to do this herself, Taeja gritted her teeth and stepped toward the brawling men.

“Taeja,” came Zain’s icy voice, freezing her in her tracks.

“Mi nago mek Damon kill mi father!” she yelled, pointing a finger toward them. “Stop them right now, or mi gon call the police!”

Zain’s eyes narrowed on her, daring her to.

Usually, when Zain looked at her like this, it would set her entire body aflame. That didn’t happen this time. The situation was too dire for her to think of anything that didn’t involve breaking up the fight.

Taeja returned Zain’s harsh glare, not backing down. Their stare-down lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity until Zain gave in. Sighing, Zain strolled over and pulled Damon off Jerry. As Damon straightened his shoulders, Zain brushed down the front of his shirt.

Taeja didn’t hesitate to run over, falling to her knees by her father’s side. Jerry looked a mess. His nose was broken and bleeding. His lip was busted, and one of his eyes was already showing signs of swelling.

Tears spilled from her eyes as she shook his shoulder. “Jerry, wake up!”

Jerry remained unresponsive.

Angry, Taeja faced her men. Damon was huffing and in a less battered state than Jerry. As thankful as she was, Damon’s well-being didn’t take away from her anger.

“Why yu do this to mi father?!” she screamed.

Damon wiped a finger across his top lip, pulling it back to look at it. Seeing blood, he glared at Jerry before his eyes moved to hers. “He called you a whore.”

Zain sneered. “He tried it this morning, too.”

“So, he got what he deserved.”

Sighing, she stood. Carefully maneuvering around the water, she walked toward Damon and took his hand by the wrist. “Let me take care of that for you,” she said before looking at Zain. “Can you bring my dad to the living room?”

“No,” Zain said.

She pouted. “Please?”

Zain heaved a loud breath before looking at the man on the floor.

Taeja watched with a smile as Zain grabbed Jerry by the ankle and hauled him away. “Thank you,” she said before leading Damon upstairs to her room.

Damon paused at the door. He did a long scan of the room before his eyes settled on hers, burning with disapproval.

Taeja cleared her throat. “Just pretend you don’t see them.” She tugged him toward the desk chair beside the window, then helped him to sit. She moved to the closet for a clean towel.

“I should pretend that there aren’t pictures of a half-naked man all over your room?”

Taeja spun around, her hands akimbo as she declared, “It’s not justanyman. It’s Kirone Tyke!”

He’d been her favorite Jamaican singer for as long as she could remember. His music was slow, sensual, and sexually explicit. His stage shows were beyond the definition of raunchy, but Taeja loved it all. Maybe it was because she could relate to him. Not many people approved of how freely and openly he spoke about sex, and she admired his bravery.

“I don’t know who that is, and I don’t want to know.”

“Are you jealous?” she teased as she walked toward him, and he glared. Smirking, Taeja placed her hands on his thighs then leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Youarejealous.”

When she pulled back with a bright smile, Damon’s glare deepened before he looked around the room in distaste. “You need to get rid of all this shit.”

She giggled. “I don’t live here anymore, remember? I have houses now.”

Damon looked back at her. “So?”

Amused, Taeja smiled before leaning in to kiss him. Damon pulled back, the action so subtle it looked like he didn’t even move.

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