𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | 𝐃.𝐄.

22

Next Day.

"Will you be safe please?" Imani asked, looking over at Saint, who sat in the driver's seat.

"Yeah. Do you think when we go home tonight we can finally talk?" He returned a question, and she he a pondering look on her face.

"About?" She rose an eyebrow, and he tilted his head to the side.

"Come on Imani, you know what I'm talking about. If we gone start fresh we need to let everything go so we can move forward." He told her, and she scanned her eyes over his face, before leaning over.

He grabbed her neck once her lips pressed against his, sliding his tongue in her mouth and closing his eyes.

Her tongue fought slowly against his as the kiss deepened, and he groaned after wining, his other hand wrapping around her neck as well.

"Okay, okay Saint." She laughed, pulling her bottom lip from his mouth.

"I miss you." His hand slid between her legs, and she smiled, letting it rest there.

They hadn't had sex and barely have touched each other these last few days, and he really did miss that intimate time, but he would wait if she wanted to.

"We can talk, yes. And after, we can do something else." She chuckled, rubbing his face, and he leaned over to peck her lips a few times.

"I love you." He told her, pulling her shirt up and kissing her stomach, making her laugh.

"I love you too baby. Be safe." She smiled as he kissed her forehead, and then she got out of his truck.

Spider bucked at Saint from the porch, and he chuckled, shaking his head. He was glad that Pierre understood where he was coming from when he did what he did. He genuinely was sorry, for the shooting, not for hitting him. El oh el.

Saint watched Imani's hips effortlessly sway as she walked, her ass sitting in the gray biker shorts she wore.

Knowing that he was still watching, she bent over, placing her hands between her legs, and he busted out laughing, honking his horn as she laughed as well.

"Bye! Good luck." She waved, and he smiled, pulling out of Pierre's driveway, and then out of his neighborhood.

Saint couldn't even front like he wasn't a tad bit offset about meeting with his father. He hadn't seen nor heard from him since he was a kid.

He never really had a good bond with Judah. He was one of those fathers that forced their dream onto their kids, though it wasn't what the kid wanted.

Unfortunately for Saint, he really didn't have a choice. He was literally forced into the streets, to keep building what his father started. Judah was never as big as Saint though, and Saint figured that's why he was retaliating this way.

Saint had no help, building the empire that he now owned. Everything that he had, he built from the dirt-literally. He had no handout and no favors, he did everything on his own.

That's why he wouldn't allow his father to try and randomly come in and start some shit just because he was leaving. It'd be different if this was Judah's empire as well, but it wasn't. He was an old head, and his days had been over.

Saint drove down the long road that led to Rikers Island, his stomach beginning to turn. He hadn't planned on ever seeing his dad again once he'd gotten locked up, and now that he was-it made him nervous.