"Your gun, Christian," I whispered breathlessly, the reality of who he was momentarily flashing in my mind. Even in bed, he was a dangerous man. He didn't stop. I felt the vibration of a low, dark smile against my skin before he spoke, his voice grazing my ear. "Gun's under the pillow," he whispered. ౨ৎ Lelani, 20 never asked for chaos. She wanted a quiet life, a clean future, and a chance to finally breathe. Christian, 24 was the kind of man she promised herself she would never get close to dangerous, secretive, and tied to a world she has no business stepping into. But fate doesn't care about warnings. And he's not good at letting go. Something about her pulls him in. Something about him keeps her from walking away. All she knows is this: The boy she shouldn't want is the only one who touches her right.

"Move from in front a mi," I say. But it comes out softer. Weaker. More honest than I intended. I'd be on the first plane out of here tomorrow. Nothing that we've said in the past twenty minutes would matter once I am on that plane. We are tied to each other, and our pasts don't have to intertwine any more than they already have. He doesn't move. I step sideways. He mirrors me, like he's tethered to the same gravity. "Kymani-" "Selah" My name in his mouth feels like a dare. A part of me wants it to feel like a promise. I shake the thought. After what feels like a standoff written in the marrow between us, he finally exhales and steps back. Barely. But enough. I don't waste it. I slip from his hold, my heartbeat pounding in my throat, in my ears, in the soles of my feet as I bolt toward the door. I leave him there. Leave the house. Leave the heat still burning between us. And I run. Fast, desperate, the same way I did the first time I left this place. The same way I survived. I don't look back. Not at him. Not at the house. Not at the version of myself that's still trembling inside those walls. Not anymore.

" 𝘙𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 - 𝘐 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 " 𖢇

Yuh go out ah yuh way fi hurt mi And mi go out ah mi way fi hurt yuh Wi keep goin round inna circle No, this ah cyah love, this ah surgery I Do not own any photos used in this book

19 year old Ka'Moura moved from her small community in St. Thomas called 'Stony Hill', where she was suffering from poverty, to start a new life...a better on in the city...In the town rather. Wah dem say when a country girl move to the city? 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐧 Wanna know how her journey in the city goes? Read to find out. Highest Rankings🏆. #1 in teenauthour #1 in countrygirl #1 in jamaica #1 in youngwriterprize #1 in newstory

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