He Who Is a Protector (Sadik Book 3)

by Love Belvin

  Jamil scoffed, I assumed finding it funny himself.

  “Look, Ellis!” Marco began, face beet red, perspiration dropping from his black hair strands. “I don’t know what the fuck this is all about, but—” he lowered his voice. “my wife and kids ain’t got shit to do with it. Right, brother?” He tried scoffing.

  “That’s where the shit gets tricky for me, Marco.” I stood in front of him, hands crossed, the Glock 17 eye-length to his face. “I only have one brother, and I damn sure don’t remember queen birthing you. Do you, Marco?”

  “No, man!” he cried. “C’mon! What the fuck are you saying? I didn’t mean it that way!”

  “Then choose your words carefully.” I tapped the tip of the gun on his head at each syllable. “In fact, that’s my message to you tonight. It’s why I’m taking away time from my damn family to be with a fuckin’ Rizzo.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, man? This is my family’s house—my wife and kids, Ellis!” he begged. “They don’t deserve this shit, man. Not after how we lost my father! We’re still handling that shit.”

  “Funny that you mention your family grieving and your father being down. My family’s grieving, too, and we’re compromised twice over. Our jefe is down, and so is our next in line. The last thing I would have expected from a, now, bastard like you was insensitivity. You should know how it feels to be compromised.” I pushed the gun into his skull.

  “What the fuck, man!” he grounded out through his teeth, breath choppy.

  “You jumped the fuckin’ board and spoke directly to the queen.”

  “Irene—”

  Before he could finish her name, I smacked his fucking face with the gun in my hand. Blood splattered in a sheet against my clothing. “That’s Mrs. or Queen Ellis to you, bitch.” I groaned in his ear as he choked on his blood.

  Once he gathered himself, Marco apologized, one palm in the air. “I’m sorry, Ellis! I’m sorry. I won’t fuck that up again. Queen Ellis from now on!”

  I shook my head. “That ain’t what got you fucked up with me. The fact that you didn’t acknowledge there’re rules to this shit. I don’t give a fuck what was established in The Commission, but in my universe, that you simply exist in, fucks like you don’t have the right to speak directly to my mother on shit.”

  I stood straight while he held his gushing lip, panting out of control. Marco had no idea how inopportune his offense was. I’d been balancing a lot of shit and could use an outlet to offset the building rage since learning of my father and brother’s betrayal. This shit was therapeutic for me.

  “All I did was try to keep shit simple, man! Lia’s been sick with worry since Iban tried that shit. I’ve got a mom, too, bro! This shit’s been stressing her the hell out because it’s stressing my little sister the hell out. My dad is gone. What did you expect me to do?”

  “Mind your fuckin’ business and let them sort that shit out. As sensitive as I am to my mother’s feelings, I would have never thought to call Catena to get involved. I don’t know how it’s done in your community, but in my family, we protect our queen. She’s fuckin’ royalty to the family and the world at large.”

  “Shit!” he spat out. “And mine isn’t! She’s stressed as fuck, too. At least yours still has a breathing husband. Fuck that!” He stood to his feet, blood shooting down his chest. “My mother doesn’t deserve the stress either. She’s our fuckin’ queen—”

  I felt his teeth break from their respective holding spaces in his gums when I shoved the barrel of my Glock in his mouth. Marco’s body dropped back on the bench, eyes looked to pop from his head.

  At the same time, the tall cat with him leaped our way until Rory zapped him below with a silencer. He fell face forward trying to reach for his bleeding lower leg on the way down.

  “Ah!” he screamed.

  Jamil was down with the G36 at the back of his head. “The first person coming through that door from the house is getting one straight in the head, no questions asked. If I were you, I’d shut the fuck up!” he growled.

  My gun was still in Marco’s mouth. I could see the ire in his eyes. However, it was over-powered by fear. Marco knew he was powerless, I’d weakened him in his own home. His grief surpassed my mother’s earlier at the hospital. I could now sleep tonight. After a few strokes between his swelling lips, I pulled my Glock from his mouth then lifted it into the air, examining it.

  “Shit, you’ve bloodied my tool, Rizzo.” My gaze met his. Marco’s mouth was trembling, hands shaking as he balanced himself on the bench, half his body in the air. “I should make you clean it, but I have to beat my old lady home.”

  “Nah. Fuck that,” Jamil intervened. “Make his ass lick it clean.”

  My eyes lit with excitement. “How many licks would it take to make my Glock blow, Rizzo?”

  Rory walked over snickering and handed me a ripped towel. I chuckled myself as I slowly backed out of the garage.

  “Clean this shit up before your lady sees it,” were my last words to him before we left for the waiting truck.

  Kissing his warm cheek always brought pure joy. It was late. Late, and I’d had him out past his bedtime, but I didn’t regret it. Seeing Sadik pass joy to Tasche at dinner made it worth it. I was blue all day at work, missing this little fellow. Now that we were…home, I could relax. My eyes swept over his new nursery. It was undoubtedly smaller than the one at the high-rise. Sadik was able to hire a designer who made this place a gorgeous, gray, white, and black nursery with a stripe and polka dot combo within two and a half days while we stayed at a hotel. It was without a doubt cute, but just as the entire apartment, too small and…not home.

  Sighing, I turned for the monitor and grabbed it on the way out the door. After less than ten steps, I was at the end of the hall, walking alongside the small kitchen where Rory was crossing out, headed into the living room with a bowl of ice cream.

  “You’re going to be okay?” I asked her.

  “Yeah, man!” she hissed, annoyed. “You act like I can’t handle lil’ man. You ain’t going far.”

  Not wanting to get into it with her, I rolled my eyes and marched to the door, mumbling under my breath, “Fine. Let me go answer my summons.”

  “Mmmhmmm,” I heard her hum behind my back.

  Rory didn’t want to push me tonight. I wasn’t in the mood for her attitude. It was enough I had to deal with her boss. I closed and tested the lock on the door behind me. Then I gaited a few yards down the narrow hall, passing a small gate before heading to the metal door leading to the rooftop.

  When the baby and I got in from Jersey an hour ago, Rory told me Sadik wanted me to see him outside. As tired as I was after getting S.Q.E., II down and showering myself, I decided on obedience. Things had been uncomfortable between Sadik and me since that last night in St. Justin. I had no idea why he needed to see me before coming to bed.

  The moment I stepped outside, I saw him reclined in a chaise lounge chair. It was pitch black out, but the string lights hung around the perimeter illuminated the area. He wore a sweat suit, socks, and Ase Garb sliders. It was a casual look for him on a weekday. Perhaps it was telling of his mood. The sight of a tumbler with brown juice and a cigar resting in an astray revealed a relaxed state.

  Maybe…

  I took a seat on the chaise, next to his outstretched legs.

  “Hey…”

  He turned to me, feline eyes glistening against the glow. “Hey.”

  “What happened there?” I gestured with my head to his swollen fist wrapped in a soiled bandage.

  Sadik glanced down at his hand with mild interest. He casually tossed the hand. “Busted it playing ball in hard bottom shoes at the office.”

  My brows lifted. “Ellis International has a basketball court?”

  “Outside. On the concrete,” were the words he used, likely lying. It was my gut intuition, but I wouldn’t challenge him. Sadik was a layered man, capable of depravity deeper than my worst nightmares. The man I married had
murdered and altered lives irreversibly. This may have been par for the course. “He’s down?”

  I nodded and pulled the monitor close to his face so he could see his son resting on his side, little fingers curled.

  “How did he do at the restaurant?”

  “Better than I thought. He carried on a full conversation with Tasche like they’ve been besties for years.”

  “My prince,” he boasted while thumbing the screen affectionately. “He understands the value in socializing already.”

  I couldn’t help my goofy smile. “Tasche’s understandably in love.”

  “How could she not be? What about your other friend?”

  I took a deep breath, expression crestfallen. “Weird.”

  “Weird how? You give her the money?”

  I called Sadik the day after we returned from vacation with the idea I’d come up with. Though I was still angry with him, I felt the need to bounce the idea of giving Randi so much money off of him. After a long pause of consideration, he suggested I go for it.

  “Yeah,” My eyes drew to the brick siding of the building. I didn’t feel like rehashing it with him. Randi clearly didn’t like Sadik, and I knew him well enough to know she was a peon in his massive universe. I also didn’t want to tell him how I told my friends about our marriage and expectant child. That would mean me sharing their reactions. “I did. She was unusually quiet all dinner long. I guess I can understand…with her losing Ricky and all. She lost her home, too.”

  From my peripheral, I could see him nod with extended lips as he gazed into the NYC skyline. For a long while, no words were passed. There was a chill in the night air, causing me to tug on my thick housecoat. The city was polluted with heavy horns adding to the already teeming energy, even at this late hour. I hated living this deep into one of America’s largest metropolises. It was never a desire of mine.

  “Thanks for meeting at DiFillippo’s.”

  “Huhn?” My head whipped to face him.

  “Rory told me you were considering Michelle’s. Thanks for changing your plans.”

  I lifted my brows in a shrug. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice. Sadik and I had already been in a precarious place so soon into our marriage. His words in St. Justin wounded me. He’d scolded me for mourning my brother. Worst part of it all was I now agreed with him. I now questioned my judgment. That second-guessing didn’t feel good at all.

  “How was your day?” I hated the lack of bass and indifference in my voice.

  This couldn’t be how I behaved as a wife—as a woman. I couldn’t allow Sadik to bulldoze my individuality.

  He exhaled, bringing the tumbler to his full lips for a nip. “Long,” he answered after swallowing. “Meetings back to back—on the way to the office, at the office, leaving the damn office,” he mumbled. “I went to visit my father today.”

  A spark of hope flared in my chest. “How was that?”

  He tossed his head in a shrug. “As to be expected. He’s weak and tired, worried.”

  I swallowed hard, eyes falling away. “Did you tell him you’re moving to New York?”

  “No.”

  My regard shot over to him. Sadik was gazing the night air. “Why?”

  “Because we’re not moving to New York.”

  “We’re not?”

  Those multi-hued irises hit me, darkened with resentment. “No,” the one-word emphatic. “My wife has made her desires clear. We’re settling our family in New Jersey.”

  The unsaid emotion filled his eyes. They were so gripping it seared me, forcing me to look away. What was this thing with him? Never had I been so desired and admonished from the same source. Sadik’s moods were always extreme and never misunderstood. He was angry with me. Good. I was frustrated with him.

  Still…

  I found myself leaning over his torso, hungry mouth taking me to his full lips where I brushed against him. My heart thundered in my chest when I caught his lazy regard roving from my lips and slowly up. His eyes closed in a rare sign of submission then his lips parted. The faint scent of brandy teased my senses. His breaths hitting my face intoxicated me, and I kissed him, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth. I slowly pushed my tongue in his warm mouth, and Sadik received me with a wide caress of his own. The woodsy tang of his cigar mixed with distilled grapes, apples, and berries of the Mauve, and the distinct taste of him brought me back to St. Justin.

  When I could no longer breathe, I pulled back, wiping my mouth. “I miss you.” Again, no bass in my delivery. My eyes slid over to find the tumbler frozen at his mouth, his regard examining me. Immediately, I questioned my decision to share that. “Well, some things about you.”

  A silent scoff escaped his chest. Monotonously, he demanded, “Show me.”

  She rolled and plopped over me, moving with inspiration. Her fingers clawed into my shoulders, pussy clenched my dick when she lifted, squeezing from her thighs. Her face was tight, eyes low, and tits flopping like a porn star’s.

  Bilan leaned over, tongue pushing from her mouth and swiped it over my lips. Her breaths were animalistic, her hips fast and fluid. She pulled me in as her thrusts propelled. Her grip on the back of my head enabled her to lift her bouncy tits in my face. I pulled one in my mouth, sucking her nipple as she jerked my cock, riding me hard trying to stifle her cries. Her second orgasm wasn’t coming as expressive as the first. She didn’t want to share it with me.

  When it washed over her, she reclined, finding my eyes again. Her pussy slammed into me, the skin of her soft ass slapping against my thighs. It confirmed what I’d sensed. I’d been here a time or two. Bilan was fucking me. I’d seen this countless times in my life, just hadn’t expected to see it from my…wife. From the woman I pledged my everything to.

  I’d been fucked with desperation by women who were so close to their fate with me, they could taste it. Women who knew I no longer had use for them. Women who wanted to show me the best time they were capable of, determined to change their exit from my life. I had one who fucked with so much exertion she collapsed on top of me. One pulled a muscle, fucking so long while dehydrated from drinking to prepare to make her plea in this manner, unbeknownst to me at the time. All of this to communicate fears.

  But this wasn’t “them.” This woman on top of me was my wife, the mother of my children, she even housed one in her now, though one couldn’t tell by the way she lurched my dick with full gusto. My vision blurred, and her freckles danced on her high cheekbones. The sound of her wetness on my thighs, the feel of it dripping down my balls all hit me at the same goddamn time. My feet tingled first then my sac. I clenched the fat of her hips through the pain of busted knuckles, thanks to Marco Rizzo, holding on while she detonated the bomb in my fucking groin.

  I sucked in air as I felt my cum jetting inside of her. For a long while, Bilan wouldn’t slow. She held me to her chest, rocking over me deliciously. When she stopped, her lips were on me again, tongue demanding. Bilan didn’t wait for me to catch on. She explored my mouth with hunger, hands all over my head, fucking owning me. The sound of our skin smacking together was replaced by our mouths. Bilan was “landing” me with this kiss as I throbbed inside of her.

  She eventually released my mouth so she could breathe.

  “You prove your point?” I asked, panting.

  Her head rolled over to face me. “Huhn?”

  “You weren’t expecting that second orgasm.”

  Bilan’s eyes fell as she lifted off of me, my receding dick slipping out of her. She left the bed and peeled on her robe before leaving out of the bedroom, closing the door. A few short minutes later, she returned with a washcloth for me to wipe myself clean of us. When I was done, I handed it back to her wordlessly and pulled the comforter over my naked body as she left the room again. I took a deep breath, resting against the headboard. So much was hanging between us. I hated the fragility so soon into our nuptials. I’d had enough on my mind with work.

  The sounds of Sadik sniffling hard drew my at
tention to his monitor on the nightstand. He was stirring from his sleep. I expected to see him carried into our bedroom any second now. Instead, I saw Bilan in the camera leaning over his crib, placing his pacifier in his mouth and rubbing his back. When he fell back asleep, she left the room, returning to ours.

  “Camille couldn’t tend to him?” I yawned as she began pulling out clothes from the dresser drawers.

  “She’s not here.”

  “Where is she? Downstairs?”

  When I moved my family into the apartment building, I had to move our staff, too. This was one of the larger units I did short-term corporate leases for. I did the same for a couple of apartments on the lower level. Two units so happened to be available when I needed them, however, both were just one-bedrooms. Rory took one and would occasionally share it with other security. Camille had the other and Kimmy, my housekeeper, kept personal items down there in the event she needed to stay overnight for convenience purposes.

  Now that Bilan had returned to work, Camille was supposed to stay with Sadik most nights. It was too soon for Bilan to pull an all-nighter with him. She needed her rest for work.

  “She’s at Elliswoods Palace, studying with one of the girls for their exam,” Bilan mumbled.

  “She’s not here with Sadik? What exam?”

  She turned to me. “Camille and another one of your mother’s staff are finishing up their master’s program this summer.”

  “What master’s program?”

  She shrugged, ducking her head. “In nursing. You didn’t know?”

  “No. But her job is here with my son.”

  “The commute was a bit much on her from rural Jersey to the City. I told her to meet me at my office tomorrow to pick him up.”

  “And do another street pick up like you did today after work? Her job is here. She gets paid to be with him.”

  Bilan took a deep breath. “Look, boss.” Her nostrils flared in anger, though I could see she was fatigued. “We’re all trying to make this thing work.”