𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐖

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

KHALIL GRIFFIN'S POV

¡WARNING: MATURE CONTENT & MENTION OF ABUSE!

Marquez let me up as I moved back on the couch away from him. I moved my legs up on the couch as I held my head in there. I told myself I wouldn't be afraid of anyone but I was and it was of him. I thought I was done dealing with him when I left.

"We need to talk."

"You need to get the hell out now Marquez. I told you I was done and I meant it. I'm done playing these games and I am done being afraid of you," my voice shook as I spoke, seeing him sit closer to me. I whimpered as I flinched away, trying to get as far from him as possible.

"I'm sorry okay, I been told you I was sorry. I never meant to hurt you or cause you the pain that I did. Nothing I did was ever meant to hurt you Ali," he said as I winced getting up to go towards the kitchen. I walked around the bar as he followed me, trying to get closer.

We kept circling it before I picked up a knife, finally stopping him as the tip of it touched his chest. "Don't call me that. You don't get the luxury of doing so anymore. You lost that privilege when you said you loved me and then turned you back on me. And all to appease some motherfucker who didn't give a fuck about you! But I did!"

He raised his hands up in surrender as I pushed forward, making him back away as he hit the wall. I pressed the knife deeper as it nicked him before I held it up to his throat.

"I know what I did―"

"You know what you did but you didn't care! I'd done everything I could to make you happy just for you to slap me around and tell me that I had to do what you said. Told me I had to not be seen or else things would get bad for you as if I was not suffering myself. Your old man controlled you and therefore you controlled me so you could feel like some type of man."

"Just listen to me. I know what I did was wrong, including putting my hands on you when I thought it'd make you listen to me. The stuff I did, I was on some sucka shit to please my dad but I ain't never lied when I said I loved you. Cause I still do," Marquez said as I dropped the knife backing away.

My hands shook as I dropped on the ground, cradling myself. I broke down in tears as sobs rung out of mouth. Marquez dropped to the ground on his knees next to me as I looked up at him. He brought his hands up carefully to touch me as I moved his hand down to touch my face. I felt ashamed of myself that I enjoyed the same hand that beat me so much.

I leaned into it as it felt like old times when he'd comfort me after. It looks like that conditioning never left my system.

"I'm the not same person as when you left. Khalil, I'm sorry," he said strongly as I tried to speak out an response but gasps of air just came out.

He pulled me into his chest as I gripped his shirt tightly in my grasp. I rested my head on his shoulder as I tried to gain back any sense I had. The sense of freedom I once had is gone though. I'm back to losing the game I once thought I won for sure.

PRYCE WATKINS' POV

I paced back and forth in my living room as I waited for Greg to get here. After hearing that Greg was the one to take care of the person who did, I felt odd. I mean considering that this does involve him it would make sense for him to be the one to take care of it. But men taking responsibility for the mistakes they make in my life isn't something I've seen much of.