A'Lani Carter isn't looking for love not after everything she survived. She keeps to herself, does hair, and trusts nobody.
Then she meets Jae'Lon Wright.
He's the one everyone fears: dangerous, cold, and tied to the streets.
But around her?He's dif...
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The buzzing in A'Lani's ears didn't stop until she stepped out of the salon. It was past ten, the streetlights flickered like they were tired too.
Another long day of wigs, braids, touch-ups, walk-ins who swore their appointment "was at six." She was exhausted, her back hurt, and all she wanted was her bed.
She pulled her jacket closer and started walking toward her car at the end of the lot.
Quiet night. Cool breeze. Peaceful.
Until it wasn't.
A'Lani heard voices before she saw anybody. Low, angry, sharp, coming from behind the corner store across the street. She slowed down, her stomach tightening. She wasn't the type to investigate. People died like that.
She kept walking.
But then a voice cut through the air deeper, calmer, too controlled.
"No back up. I said back up."
A'Lani froze.
Something in her told her to turn around. Mind your business. Get in your car and go home.
But before she could move, a loud crash rang out, followed by the sound of someone running.
And then
Gunshots.
A'Lani's heart jumped into her throat. She ducked down instinctively, hands over her head, breath shaking. She could hear shouting, someone cussing, someone breathing hard.
She tried to crawl behind a car, but her hands were trembling too much to move fast.
"I told you not to fucking come around here—"
Another shot.
A'Lani's entire body froze in place.
Then footsteps. Heavy ones. Fast. Coming toward her.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Not like this. Not after everything. Not here.
Before she even understood what happened, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her behind a dumpster.
"Stay down," a voice whispered, deep, steady, warm enough to shock her still.
She looked up and saw him for the first time.
Jae'Lon Malik Wright.
Everybody in Cloverwood Heights knew of him even if she didn't wanna admit she did.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark eyes that saw everything at once. A face too good-looking for the life he was living. Tattoos peeking from under his hoodie. Calm expression, like bullets didn't bother him.
He was close, too close. His hand still rested on her hip, holding her in place.
She should've pushed him off. She should've told him not to touch her.
