Running my hand over her scalp, I told her the truth. “My father used to work in politics. He never held office, but he was the person people called when they wanted a problem to go away.”

  “Like Olivia Pope?”

  I chortled, pulling her until she was situated on top of me. Lazily, I ran my fingers through my locs and said, “Yea, like Olivia Pope. Without all the extra shit. Very few people can point him out in a room. And he likes it like that.”

  Ericka pulled back to look at me, silently urging me to go on.

  “Growing up with him as my father taught me that it was more about who I knew and less about what I was doing. Because if I made the right connections, there wasn’t a problem I couldn’t make disappear.”

  “And it works? Every time?” Doubt colored her words as she pinned her eyes on me.

  “Yea, but that didn’t happen overnight. And if my father wasn’t who he was, it would have taken me decades to build up to the level we’re on today. I got a head start.”

  I rolled us over onto our sides.

  “Hmm,” she hummed, her arm snaking around my waist so she could run her nails up and down my spine. “But it’s so different from football. How did you make the transition so effortlessly?”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t effortless. My father never really wanted me to do this. It was the reason he pushed sports so hard. Football, track and field, and baseball. He wanted something to stick. For me to get a scholarship and never have to do this kind of work.”

  A beat passed of me just enjoying her hands on me before I found my train of thought and continued.

  “And it did work. I got a scholarship to play football. And then I got drafted to the league. But then I fucked up my knee. Twice. And I didn’t want to sit around doing nothing when that ship sailed.”

  “I see.”

  “My father never did what I do, technically. I’ve built a legit business with your brother, and the skills I learned from my father are just an added bonus that help things move smoother. We don’t always default to that. But when we do…we’re good at it.”

  “Is Aaron the only ex of mine you’ve confronted?”

  “Why?”

  “Because the guy I dated my first year down here mysteriously disappeared, and I want to know if that was a coincidence or you did something.”

  Hunter Zane.

  Thirty-two. Tech salesman. Perpetual abuser. And a man dense enough to cheat on Ericka Smith.

  Ericka claimed that he never laid a hand on her, but the fact that he’d hurt her at all—and had hurt so many women before her—made him easy prey.

  “He got caught in a house fire at his Airbnb in Orlando.” I watched her process the information before her eyebrow rose. “Freak accident.”

  I kept my voice even.

  “Right, freak accident…” Her voice trailed, but I wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet.

  So, I changed the subject.

  “Are you going home for Thanksgiving?”

  She tensed before she could mask her natural reaction. “I don’t really want to see my mom.”

  Her answer didn’t surprise me.

  Last year, Smith hosted Thanksgiving at his place, and Ericka had conveniently shown up once their mom left to go to her hotel. This year, Smith had already told me he’d be in South Carolina, so I wanted to gauge how she was feeling about the holiday.

  Knowing that Ericka and Derrick had a strained relationship with their mom kept me from butting in for the most part. But Derrick had been doing the work to get back on good terms with her.

  Ericka preferred pretending the woman didn’t exist.

  It was wild to say that I was closer to her mom than she was, but it was the truth. I went home with Smith from time to time, acting as a buffer even when he didn’t ask me to. It was tense the first few times, but now that Venita was used to me, she welcomed me with open arms, and I got to see the way Smith softened toward her after the fallout.

  With Ericka, it was different.

  “I’ll go with you,” I offered, nudging her nose with mine.

  Ericka’s eyes jumped all over my face. “But your family’s here.”

  “My mom is going on a cruise with her best friend,” I chortled. “And my dad is going to Colorado with some friends from college.”

  “Oh.”

  We were so close, our lips touched as we talked. Her minty breath cooled my skin every time she opened her mouth.

  “They spend every other day together and like spending their holidays with their friends. It’s always been their thing. So I would be home alone anyway. Unless I went to my Aunt Bri’s house in Lauderhill.”

  “You should do that.” Her face lit up. “Your cousins are really sweet.”

  “So come with me. Or I go with you to South Carolina. Either way, I’m not letting you spend it alone.”

  She hedged, biting her bottom lip. “I could pick up a shift at the hospital.”

  “But you won’t.” I nudged her again, pressing kisses against her forehead. “You’re coming with me.”

  Still not convinced, she shook her head lightly and smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s better than a no.”

  Ericka’s laugh filled the space between us, pulling at my heart. I loved that sound coming from her. It told me I was doing something right. Creating a space she felt comfortable enough to not only occupy but let loose in, and that feeling would never get old.

  “I love you,” I confessed, my voice barely audible.

  Instead of the dumbfounded look she had the first few times I muttered those words, her eyes registered acceptance. “I know.”

  Smiling, I kissed her lips. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”

  After three twelve-hour shifts, it would be her first day off, and I planned to spend it right up under her.

  Ericka burrowed herself deeper into my space. “First, I want to sleep in. Then I want to spend the day at your pool.”

  I listened to her rattle off what she wanted for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. What drinks she wanted. And what she wanted to do after she turned into a prune in the pool.

  She was still adding stuff by the time she dozed off, and I fell asleep holding her—happier than I’d ever remember being.

  EPILOGUE

  JONAH

  A week and a half later

  “Does everyone have their phone?” Devyn called as the four of us filed out of Smith’s apartment and headed to the elevator.

  “Yep.” I was the first to speak.

  Derrick confirmed with a grunt.

  And Ericka…didn’t say a word.

  The frown on her face had been getting deeper and deeper ever since we got up this morning, and I couldn’t say I blamed her.

  It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and the day we’d decided to hit the road for South Carolina. We were supposed to leave yesterday, but a work emergency kept me and Smith busy late into the night.

  Something told me Ericka was hoping for a similar emergency today.

  Silently, I watched as she tucked herself into the furthest corner of the elevator. She didn’t say anything as we descended, and when Devyn and Derrick stepped out to head for the SUV we rented, she moved at a snail’s pace erasing the space.

  I brought up the rear, trailing her without a word.

  It was five a.m., but she was used to being up early for work, so I knew that wasn’t bothering her. It was the person waiting for her at the end of the trip.

  She wasn’t even angry; it was sadness and hurt radiating off of her in waves, and that made me feel like shit for convincing her to go.

  Everyone loaded their luggage into the trunk of the truck, playing real-life Tetris as we all came to the realization that we might have overpacked for a three-day stay.

  Derrick and Devyn walked around the truck to get inside, but I hung back. Catching Ericka around the wrist, I pulled her into me and stared down at her.

  Never needing a reason to touch her, I gently massaged the wrinkle between her brows.

  “Fix your face, baby.”

  “I don’t want to go see that lady,” she explained, and the hurt in her words punctuated that point.

  “You know we can leave as soon as we get there if you don’t like it?”

  “It’s in the middle of nowhere, it’s not exactly easy to just leave.”

  Pulling out my phone, I pulled up my wallet app and showcased the two first-class tickets I bought on my way home from work last night. They were flying out of the nearest airport to her hometown.

  Ericka took them in with shock apparent on her face, then relief.

  “I’ll never take you somewhere without an escape route planned.” She was fighting a smile now, and some of the nervousness knotting my gut subsided.

  “Okay.”

  Kissing her temple, I started the walk to her door. “You can always trust me to give you an out. I never want you uncomfortable if there’s anything I can do about it.”

  Before Ericka could respond, Devyn got out of the truck and lifted herself on the footrail beside her door to peer over the roof at us.

  “Come on, lovebirds. Derrick is treating everyone to coffee, and we need to hurry up before he changes his mind.”

  Ericka smirked, allowing her attention to be pulled away from our conversation.

  “You good?”

  “Mhmm.” She nodded faintly.

  “I love you,” I breathed against her temple before she could fully pull away from me.

  “I know,” she said. “I love you, too.”

  Struck by her words, I tried to make sense of what she just said, and she took that as a perfect opportunity to make her escape.

  With a sheepish expression, she turned and got in the car.

  As I slid into the passenger seat, Derrick looked at me like I’d lost my mind, and I knew it was because of the goofy grin plastered on my face.

  In a daze, I locked my seatbelt in place and ignored the hole he was burning in the side of my head.

  I didn’t care about anything slick he had to say.

  Ericka Smith loved me.

  That was all that mattered.

  That was all that would ever matter.

  THE END.

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  WHAT'S NEXT

  An Arranged Marriage, Erotic Short

  May 2024

  KHARMA

  Don’t smile in your mugshot or the jury will think you aren’t remorseful.

  It was solid advice. For somebody who gave a fuck.

  But what if I wasn’t remorseful? What if I was proud as fuck of what I’d done and would happily do it again?

  Could I remember everything I’d done leading to this moment? No. But that didn’t change the fact that Jonte’ Ramirez deserved everything I put him through tonight. Maybe more.

  Besides, I knew my case would never make it in front of a judge.

  I was brought here as a formality. A warning. A slap on the wrist, if you will.

  Speaking of wrists, mine hurt like hell after the way Officer Fuckface tightened the cuffs around them. The red and purplish bruises looked uglier under the fluorescent light of the jail's interrogation room.

  I was alone. Uncuffed and irritated in this tiny freezer box.

  The officer questioning me gave up after talking to himself for ten minutes. Another formality. We both knew I wouldn’t talk. And we both knew they wouldn’t actually make me. I, along with everybody else in New Hope, knew these pigs were on my brothers’ payroll, and they wouldn’t do anything to me outside of what they’d already done.

  So, here I was. Hungry and annoyed. And a little apprehensive about what was gonna happen when one of my brothers came to clean up my mess.

  Out of my three older brothers, I knew Khaos was my best bet. He’d pick me up, take me to get something to eat and then drop me off at my apartment like nothing happened. But true to his name, it was no telling what he was caught up in at the moment. Which meant he was the least likely to show up.

  Kairo was a wildcard. He’d come if he felt moved to in the moment. And I knew those odds weren’t in my favor if he was up under or on top of somebody right now.

  Kash was the most reliable, but that reliable nature came with a lecture I was dreading. Especially since he was the only one who answered the phone when I called.

  That didn’t mean he hadn’t told Kairo or Khaos to come deal with me, but I doubted it.

  Groaning, I turned my head every which way to look around the room, pausing to snarl at the camera perched in the top right corner.

  “Fuck, it’s cold.”

  My nipples were stiffer than the wig on that bitch I’d seen with Jonte’. He was dead wrong for letting her walk out the house like that.

  And before you ask—no, I wasn’t fighting over a nigga. Not really, anyway. He wasn’t my nigga. I didn’t care who he stuck his little thumbtack in. But my friend, Violet, had spent one too many nights crying about it. So I took matters into my own hands. Literally.

  I met him in the bathroom of the movie theater and locked us inside. Memories of the horror in his gray eyes made me giggle. He’d been scared shitless when I tapped him on his shoulder with my blade. So scared he didn’t think to make sure he was still pissing in the urinal.

  I turned up my lips as it sprayed the wall and floor. And my scowl only deepened when I saw the short little nub protruding from his pelvis.

  Was that what Violet was losing her mind over?

  There was no fucking way.

  “God, that’s disappointing,” I said before I could catch myself.

  Jonte’ had gathered some of his wits about him by then, but his eyes were still locked on the serrated blade resting on his shoulder.

  “What are you going to do to me?” he asked in a shaky voice that made my lips curl in a sadistic smile.

  And then he started running. Pants falling off his ass and his hands grabbing at air as he reached the door. Only to realize I’d tripped the lock. I was the only one who could unlock it and now he looked close to shitting a brick.

  I wanted to be good and gone before it ever got to that point. Piss, I could handle. But shit? Absolutely the fuck not.

  I hadn’t really planned to cut his dick off. I just wanted to scare him. The plan went to hell when he swung on me.

  All bets were off then. And while I didn’t succeed in cutting his little imitation shrimp off, I nicked his thigh and gave his ass something to cry about since he wanted to try me.

  It was possible I got carried away because one minute I was unlocking the door to let us both out of the bathroom and the next I was in the back of an unmarked patrol car in front of the town’s only movie theater.

  Evidently, I blacked out in the hallway when Jonte' called me a bitch and the officer on duty at the theater yoked my ass up.

  Embarrassing.

  Oh, well. It’s what cheaters like him deserved.

  So, here we were.

  “Ms. Knight, you’re free to go,” a nasally tenor interrupted my recollections and pulled my attention to the open door.

  “Finally,” I huffed, standing up. I allowed the man to lead me through the short hallway to the desk to collect my belongings.

  When I had my things, I immediately reached in my bag for the Clif bar I kept for emergencies.

  The first bite made me moan, but that moan turned into a cry for help when the door leading to the front of the jail opened and my eyes clashed with a raven pair that didn’t belong to any of my brothers.

  “What’s up, Kharma?”

  “Dakota?”

  Who the fuck invited my husband to this jailhouse?

  ---------

  This will be available in KU on 5/31/2024. Preorder here

  Also by Shon

  Erotica

  His Majesty: A Second-Chance Novella

  Midnight: An Interracial Friends with Benefits to more Novella

  Yours: A Friends to Lovers Novella

  Cravings: An Instalove Novella

  The Finale: Even more King’s Town Content | Over 20+ extra chapters/deleted scenes PLUS read what happened at the yacht party once Cravings ended ☺

  KHARMA: An Arranged Marriage, Erotic Short

  Urban Romance

  Chubz & Kim: A Second-Chance, Age Gap Romance Novella (Takes place in King's Town)

  Standalones

  Unconditional: A Second-Chance, Slow Burn Romance

  Unstoppable: A Forced Proximity, Bodyguard Romance

  Untouchable: A Small Town, Friends to Lovers Romance

  Heaven Sent: A Small Town, Marriage of Convenience Romance

  Roomie, Lover, Friend: A Small Town, Roomates to Lovers Romace

  Acknowledgments

  This novella took on a life of its own.

  I didn’t really share it while I wrote it because it’s a deeply intimate project that I wanted to protect until I had it just right. So, I guess this is me saying I thank myself for seeing it through to the end.

  Whitney—thank you for cheering me on as I grumbled about the writing process. And thank you for accepting the quotes I sent you out of context and still expressing excitement. Lmao, you a real one and I appreciate that.

  Kai—thank you for helping me get this to its final, sharable form. I appreciate the care you took in editing these words and the story they convey.

 

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