by Nia Arthurs
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Author’s Note
When I was writing Shanel’s story, Kaz was crying out to be heard, but I tried to ignore her because I didn’t have a plan for her character.
I’d originally written her to have ‘disappeared’ when Shanel got transferred to the alternate dimension, but something about that didn’t sit well with me.
Everyone in Brighton Academy already treated Kaz as invisible. She was the Token Black Friend—expendable and tossed aside when she wasn’t needed.
So I gave her a story. And I gave her a voice. And, at first, there was no clear direction to her personality. Slowly, I coaxed her out of her shell and I realized that Kaz was determined. More determined than anyone had ever given her credit for.
She had never been loved properly and when she met Morgan, she didn’t allow herself to believe that he would care for her.
But he was exactly what she needed. Someone who was willing to be sensitive. To be her friend. Morgan’s patient care and tenderness toward her brought Kaz alive and I’m so glad Kaz got to share her story.
Remember that you also have a voice. And you also have a story. I hope that you write it boldly and beautifully.
Until the next whirlwind BWWM romance.
~ Nia
P.S. I hope you enjoyed Kaz and Morgan!
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Bound In You
SNEAK PEEK
Sneak Peek! Bound In You Chapter One
Braxton
I’m dying.
I don’t need Dr. Crenshaw to hem and haw his way through my diagnosis for me to understand. It’s all over his face. Eyes darting left and right. Sweat beneath his arm pits. The thinly veiled hesitation.
I’m used to people responding to me in fear. I’ve come to expect it, almost revel in the creeping, rabid anxiety that steps into their eyes and the indecisiveness in their twitching lips as if they can’t decide if they should run or befriend me.
The game to see how long people will associate me with my mob boss uncle is one I’ve been playing since I was a teenager.
But this is no time for games.
Doc holds my life in his hands and I’ve lost patience with his side-stepping. In life, the only way to be successful is to charge ahead, forge a way when there isn’t one, and take what you want by force. When time is running short, restraint is a waste.
Doc licks his lips. “I’d still recommend a few more tests—”
“I’ve done hundreds.”
“A proper diagnosis requires—”
I lean forward. “Tell me.”
Crenshaw goes pale. “Well, I…”
“Tell me I’m dying.”
He swallows. Hard. His hands tremble as he grabs a handkerchief and dots at his brow. “It’s not looking good.”
“And there are still no cures?” I ask.
“Not that we know of.”
“The medical facility I bought—”
He clasps his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry, Braxton. You’re so young…”
My eyes sharpen at his condescending tone. “Scrap the condolences and fix this.”
“W-what?”
“Find a way.” I stand and button my jacket smoothly. “Find a way so I can live.”
“O-or you’ll kill me?” He chokes.
A corner of my mouth lifts. “Have a good day, Doc. I’ll be in touch.”
His garbled cries are the last thing I hear as I step out of his office and stride down the halls. Bright white lights beam from the ceiling, bouncing harshly off the white tiles and white walls. The black waiting chairs add darkness to an already ghostly light.
So sterile.
So… cold.
Words can’t express how much I hate hospitals. The stench of bleach. The desperate faces of loved ones holding on to hope to the bitter end. The overworked nurse. The pompous doctors.
Even worse? The fact that my life depends on this place. On the knowledge that the experts should have but don’t. Incurable diseases are an embarrassment to modern medicine. Science has come so far that we fool ourselves into believing we’ve got everything under control. But there’s still so much we don’t know. Like why I’m on the verge of death at thirty-four. The height of my life. My crowning glory.
Death isn’t welcome yet. I have something I need to do.
One very important task.
But it can’t happen in the time that I’ve been allotted. Hell, it hasn’t happened in the past ten years. I’ll need at least ten more before I can let the Grim Reaper steal me away.
Sunlight blazes over my head as I step out of the hospital. Digging my fingers into my pocket, I pull out my shades and slip them on. A sharp breeze tugs at my hair and cools my heated skin. Puffy clouds sail contentedly through the blue sky, carrying the wisps of a memory.
I close my eyes and I’m there, lying in the grass watching the clouds and pointing out what they resemble. That one’s a bear holding cotton candy. That one’s a ship with a pirate. I hear my mother’s laughter, so tinkling and light, and my chest twinges in pain.
The innocence of that moment feels like a lifetime ago.
Darkness stole everything from me.
And justice still hasn’t been served.
No. This is not the end.
I must live.
A sleek black car pulls up to the sidewalk and parks right in front of me. The driver steps out, rushing around the hood to open the back door. He’s dressed in a blazer pressed neatly over a stark white shirt and blacks slacks. Familiar brown eyes taken me in.
“Sir?” Dan gives me a questioning look.
I remain in place, my gaze on the clouds. “I’ll walk.”
“S-sir?”
Without answering, I turn and stride down the sidewalk. My shoes thump against the ground, eating up the concrete. Pedestrians briskly clear out of my path. It’s an instinctual avoidance. As if they smell the Valtin blood and know enough to move away from it.
Or maybe I’m overthinking things. Since my diagnosis, I’ve become overly sentimental. The things that meant nothing before suddenly shifted in my perspective—like memories of watching the clouds with my mother. If only I’d treasured those quiet moments instead of being restless. I always ran from her to play with the friends who would eventually grow up to turn their backs on me. If I knew then what I do now, I would have remained in the grass with my mother, counting clouds until sunset.
A throb starts at the base of my skull. It’s my first warning, but I don’t heed it. Pushing my body further, I continue my walk. The scent of coffee grabs my attention. Since my diagnosis, I haven’t touched the brew, but I feel particularly rebellious today.
What’s the sense in having rock-solid restraint if I’m just going to die at the end of it all anyway? My efforts brought me this far, but the same door keeps closing in my face.
There’s no solution.
No treatment.
No hope.
My feet turn in the direction of the coffee shop but, before I can enter, my strength leaves me and I end up collapsing against the window of the store. My head plunks against the cool glass.
Two frightened faces peer back at me. Customers sitting around a table on the other side of the window leap to their feet. Warbled voices scream loud enough through the glass, desperate pleas of ‘are you okay?’
It’s been so long since anyone has asked me that question.
Not because I’m okay.
But because I always appear to be.
There is no crack in my shell. No holes in my mask. Up until recently, I managed to keep my diagnosis a secret from even my uncle. But, as the disease worsened, so did my ability to maintain control of my body.
The sharp pain in my head intensifies. It’s at once overwhelming and
familiar. My fingers crawl against the glass and I twist my legs, trying to keep myself upright when I feel my body slipping.
A pair of hands latch on to me.
Dan.
His brown eyes fix on me. “Sir?”
“I told you I would walk.”
“So?”
“You disobeyed me.”
“You disobeyed your doctor’s orders first.” He slings his arm over my shoulder. “What the hell were you doing running into a coffee shop?”
“You’re fired.”
He grunts and helps me to the car. When it seems he wants to shove me inside like I’m an invalid, I brush him off and climb in on my own. My pride gives me the strength to do this much. The air conditioner is running at full blast. I suck in a deep breath to steady myself.
My fingers tremble as I pop open the cooler fitted into my lux vehicle. Instead of drinks, however, I pull out a bottle of pills from a long line standing like faithful soldiers on the shelves. The pain prevents me from unscrewing the cap.
Dan reaches back and plucks the bottle from me. With one shake, he deposits the pills into the middle of my palm and hands me a bottle of water. I accept both, knocking the medicine back and sinking into my chair.
“That was dangerous, sir,” Dan says, peering at me intently.
“My own body is trying to kill me.” I let out a haunted breath. “That’s the only danger I’m worried about.”
“That’s the danger I’m referring to.”
I scowl at him. “You’ve gotten chattier lately.”
“Because you’ve gotten more stubborn.” He turns around and starts the car. “I’m assuming the doctor didn’t have any good news.”
The silence that rings out is my only response.
Dan sighs loudly and pulls into the highway. He’s been with me for five years and he’s proven his loyalty time and time again, but there’s a part of me that still demands distance. Anyone that gets too close can become an enemy. And… I don’t want to lose Dan. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s done a convincing job of pretending that he cares.
One day, if I find out that he’s been a spy all along, I’ll laugh and proudly declare that I never trusted him. Not with everything.
It’s a lesson I learnt at a young age.
Trust no one.
Trust nothing.
It’s an effective tool in my arsenal and so convincing that, at points, I don’t even trust myself. Who knows if I’ll ever find the time to meet someone who can change my mind?
Time’s run out.
Nothing matters now.
And everything matters now.
Life is squeezing me into a corner and Death has a grip around my neck, but being so low has given me power. No one can hold my life as collateral. I’m a dead man walking. I’m a shell of a ghost. I’m untouchable.
Taking out my phone, I dial a private number.
I need to make my moves now that I have nothing more to lose
In a few weeks, I’ll be dead.
***
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More books about strong yet vulnerable black women and the diverse men who love them are coming soon.
Also by Nia Arthurs
The Token Black Friend Series
Trapped In You
Caught In You
Make It Marriage Series
Be My Always
Be My Forever
Be My Darling
Be My Lady (A Make It Marriage Short)
Be My Light
Be My Spark
Be My Wife
Be My Hope
more coming in 2020
Caribbean Crush Series
His Exception
Her Deception
The Complication
Grudging Hearts Series
Forever Loving You
Forever Craving You
Forever Claiming You
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