Page 83 of Cuffed By Your Love
Elias snatched the wrist midair, yanked him forward, and buried a fist in his chest hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He hammered ribs, one and two, kneed him folded, then a hook to the jaw snapped Kam sideways into a sweet-tea shelf, bottles rattling like teeth in cold water.
“E! Chill the fuck out! We got him!” Chambers shouldered in, hands on Elias’s bicep, trying to leash a lightning bolt.
But Elias’s eyes were locked and loaded. He grabbed Kam’s collar, pulled him in close enough to fog his face with breath, and spoke like each word was a nail.
“Kam… if you even breathe in her direction again, look her way, let her name ride the back of your tongue, dream ’bout touchin’ her, I’ma peel you apart like old paint on a shotgun house in August. I’ll salt the bone while you still screamin’, make every second feel like a month in hell with no water break.
“I’ll feed the buzzards pieces of you till they get tired, then bury what’s left in a place so deep the devil gon’ need a flashlight and a shovel to find you. Your shadow won’t walk these streetsagain, and your scent won’t even live in the air no more. I’ll erase you like a name scratched off wet cement, and the only place you’ll exist is in the nightmares I let you keep. Believe me, bitch… Your countdown just started, and when the clock hits zero? I’m comin’ to collect.”
Silence spread heavy as wet wool. Even the cooler’s hum held its breath. Officers hauled Kam up in cuffs; his lip bled, one eye closing like a curtain.
Elias turned, and the beast inside him folded at the sight of me.
He dropped to his knees, palms cradling my face like I was glass and gospel.
“I’m so sorry, gorgeous. Baby,… look at me, baby. I’m here now. You safe.”
“I…” My voice rasped. “I tried?—”
“I know,” he whispered, thumb catching a tear. “You fought. And now I got you.”
He stood, scooped me with a care that made the room blur, and carried me out. As we passed, Kam didn’t exist; he didn’t have to. The promise hanging in the air was thick as gun smoke after the last shot.
Outside, sirens wailed, and August heat pressed down like a palm. But in Elias’s arms, all I heard was his heart steadying mine back into rhythm as the door sighed shut behind us.
The day was movinglike syrup, slow, thick, and sweet, until her voice went tight.
We’d been on the phone while I was posted outside Chambers’ cousin’s spot. She was in The Nourish Nook, talking about strawberries like they were precious cargo. Laughing softly. I was riding that sound like a lazy river.
Then, silence. Not the regular kind. The air through the phone shifted. It got heavier, like static you could breathe.
“Bitch, we need to talk.”
That voice didn’t belong anywhere near my woman.
“Yo, baby…. who the fuck is that talking to you like that? Calling you out ya fucking name and shit?” I wasalready straightening in my seat, Chambers looking over, brows knotting.
And then she said it. Low. Like the name itself was poison.
“Kam.”
Everything in me turned red.
“This bitch-ass nigga Kam done pulled on my baby.” I growled, voice thick with fury. “Baby, yell for help. I’m on my way to you now. Fuck!”
I didn’t hang up. I just tossed the phone on speaker and mashed the gas. Chambers was already buckling in.
“You ’bout to?—”
“Beat this nigga out the skin God gave him? Hell the fuck yeah.”
The street bent for me. I wasn’t talking metaphorically; it felt like the asphalt rolled itself flat, green lights bowing like they knew what time it was. Every pothole moved out of my way. The city had never cleared a lane for anybody, but tonight, she cleared it for me.
We were eating pavement, the engine roaring, wind slapping the sides. Chambers’ hand gripped the oh-shit handle, but he didn’t dare tell me to slow down. He fucking knew better.
Through the phone, it got loud: boots hitting tile, voices sharp. Then I heard it. Her voice, small but solid. “Get the fuck out my face.”
And then chaos. Movement. Her breath jerking like she’d been shoved. That muffled thud I’d know anywhere—fist on flesh.
