my lips, tugging at the flesh I know to be red and swollen.
“He did this?” There’s brimstone in Grip’s demand, fire in his glare.
“It doesn’t matter.” I pull away from his hand, embarrassed that Grip’s seeing the results of Parker’s rough kiss. It’s a dim reflection of what he’ll do to me later, I’m sure. “I need to go.”
“The thought of him touching you . . .” Grip swallows, his voice falling into a dark abyss. “Of him hurting you, kills me, Bris. That I can’t protect you, it kills me.”
There’s blood thirst in his eyes, and I have no doubt if Parker were in this room he’d be dead. But he isn’t here. He’s out there wreaking havoc on our lives, and I have the means to stop him.
“I need to go.”
He catches my elbow, his touch firm and gentle. In his outstretched palm he holds the gold necklace.
“Don’t forget this.” He proffers it to me.
“Keep it till I get you out of here.” His handsome face wavers as tears fill my eyes but don’t fall. “If you still want me . . . after, I’ll take it back.”
I glance up at the camera in the corner before leaning in to lay my lips against his, pouring everything into that brief contact. When my lips would cling to his, I force myself away and out the door without looking back. Tears blur everything ahead of me, and I slam into someone right outside the door in the hall.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble to the person I almost ran down. “Oh, Ms. James, excuse me. I wasn’t . . . watching.”
“How is he?” She skips past my apology, looking over my shoulder to the closed door.
“He’ll be better when he’s out of here.” I brush the useless tears away, reaffirming my commitment to this course.
“This is some bullshit.” Ms. James’ righteous anger shines from her dark eyes. “My boy has never done drugs, much less would be carrying enough to sell.”
Her mouth pulls into an unexpected grin.
“A little dro every once in a while, yes, but slanging ’caine? No way.”
“I know. We all know. It’s a setup, but we’re getting to the bottom of it. I promise you he’ll be out soon.”
“A setup?” Her question is a rapier pressed to my neck, a threat to draw blood if she doesn’t get answers. “Who set my boy up?”
“My ex-boyfriend.” I face her head on, knowing this will only add to the myriad other reasons she has to dislike me and want me away from her son.
“You ain’t been nothing but trouble to him,” she says harshly, tears liquefying the chocolate eyes. “I knew it. I knew him being with someone like you would only mean trouble.”
“You were right.”
“First the traffic stop and turning my son’s community against him.”
“I wouldn’t say they turned against him,” I disagree carefully. “Calling Marlon a sellout?” Her head tips, her brows lift. “Saying he disrespected Black women when he chose you over Qwest? That ain’t turning against where you come from?”
Every one of her accusations is a tiny arrow that finds its mark. “I’m sorry.” I force myself to meet her eyes. “Not for being with Grip, but that being with me brought this on, but I’m going to fix it.”
“The damage has been done. My son’s record—”
“Will be cleared.”
I look at her. I feel so hard right now inside. I’m marbleizing my heart to get through this ordeal with Parker. I do that to protect myself, but I crack the shell long enough to say what I need to say more gently.
“Ms. James, I’m going to do whatever it takes to get him out, to fix this,” I say. “But when he’s out, I’m still going to be with him, if he wants me. All the things you love about him, I love about him. He isn’t a sellout because he loves me. And I’m not just after him for whatever you think the novelty is. We love each other.”
I dredge up a smile and hope she doesn’t notice the tears I can’t seem to clear from my eyes.
“I need to go, but he wants to see you, and our ‘favor’ only extends so far. He won’t have much more time to visit.”
Even with her looking at me as if I’ve committed a crime or personally put her son here, I want to ask her for a hug. For a touch that tells me I can go through with this. That as abhorrent as it will