Page 85 of Cuffed By Your Love
“Who the fuck knew the PD was hiring Roy Jones, Jr. ’round this bitch!”
“Serves ya bitch ass right! Fucked up that fine ass lady face like that! Kick his ass some more, mayne!”
My blood pounded louder than their voices. I wasn’t hearing cheers. I was hearing her voice trembling in my memory. I was seeing her bruised face, swollen eye. My heart had been hurt.
I cocked my fist again, driving a hook so sharp it rattled up my arm.Crack. His head snapped, and spit and blood sprayed. He spun into the shelf of sweet tea. Bottles rattled like bones in a dice cup, one crashing down and busting open, tea spilling across the floor to mix with his blood.
“Ahhh, shit, shit! Stop! Nigga, stop!” Kam squealed, voice breaking like glass.
“Lawd, he baptizin’ that nigga in sweet tea!” somebody hollered.
“WorldStar finna eat this up!” Another laughed.
“Damn, can we call 12 on 12? He on his ass!”
“I ain’t neva, eva, eva, eva, rooted for a nigga in blue like this before! Go, Mr. Officer! Fuck him up, G!”
Chambers checked on Jonay first. “You alright, sis? Hold tight. I got you.” Now his boots were heavy behind me.
“E! Chill the fuck out! We got him!”
I dropped to my knees, hands cupping her swollen face like she was made of glass.
“I’m so sorry, gorgeous. Baby,… look at me, baby. I’m here now. You safe.”
I didn’t even realizeI was crying until the breeze kissed my face, and the tears turned cold. The air outside The Nook was thicker than my trauma, dense with judgment, curiosity, and silent prayers. I could feel every stare burning into my back as Elias carried me like I was made of glass and grief, like if he put me down too soon, I’d crack open and spill sorrow all over the sidewalk.
Elias was still holding me like I was sacred, like breaking eye contact would break both of us. His arms trembled, but they never faltered. His grip was strong but careful, like he knew the pain I was in before I even opened my mouth to name it. The way his hands shook while cradling my waist made me realize he was barely hanging on too. But he didn’t let go, not once. Not whenI whimpered. Not when I sagged against him like my spine gave up on being brave.
Folks outside the store had stopped what they were doing. The aunties with curlers still wrapped in scarves and half-empty carts of canned peaches. The kids who were just begging for blue slushies from the corner vendor now huddled behind their mama’s thighs. Even the old heads with dominoes and knee braces, who never missed a Saturday gossip rotation, went silent like they were watching a sermon unfold in real time.
My head rested against Elias’s chest, and his heart was pounding wildly behind his badge like it wanted to fight for me too. It was a battle between protection and vengeance, God and the Glock. And I didn’t even know which one I needed more.
“I got you, baby… I got you,” he kept murmuring, his voice rough like gravel but warm like a hood sunrise after a long night. Every word dripped steadily, hitting my ears like it was patching something cracked inside me. He said it again. And again. Like if he fed it to me enough times, it’d root in my bones and never let me go.
He placed me in the passenger seat of his unmarked cruiser like I was made of lace and lavender, like even the thought of me being touched wrong was a sin he’d never forgive. His thumb brushed my busted bottom lip like it offended him to see me hurt. His eyes scanned my face with a kind of hunger that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with love dressed in panic.
“You good, Chambers?” Elias barked over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off me.
“Yeah, we got that ho ass nigga detained. Witnesses already speaking. Cameras all up in the corners. We good.”
Elias dipped his chin in a single nod, his jaw wired tight like it was holding back a riot, every word he didn’t say clanging around in his skull like a warning shot waiting to go off. His eyesflicked back toward the chaos, and I knew if Chambers hadn’t been there, he would have killed Kam on the spot and buried the pieces in cement.
“Follow us to County,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m not dropping her off at no urgent care where they gon’ ask her what she did to deserve it. Fuck all that.”
Then he turned to me, and his voice dropped so low and sharp it felt like a promise and a threat at the same time. “You mine, baby. Not just to love… but to war for. I’ll ride for you barefaced and bulletproof, heart first, soul loaded. Ain’t no line I won’t cross for you.”
Mine.
It didn’t feel possessive. It felt holy. Like the kind of claim that wrapped you in safety instead of shackles. Like maybe I was worthy of being kept after all.
I didn’t argue. Couldn’t. My throat was full of ache and iron and shame that didn’t even belong to me. But the way he saidmine, like a declaration, like he was speaking it into law, made my lungs believe in air again.
He slid his hand under mine, rough and steady, his thumb rubbing little circles into my palm. Then he took my hand and gently pressed his mouth to it, like he was signing a contract in heat and breath, staking a claim so deep it would echo in my bones long after the kiss was gone
“You still with me?” he asked.
I nodded slowly.
