Chapter 6 – Now I Am

Chapter 6 – Now I Am

Juliet Pierce

I slept like the dead. So did Samy. I guess adrenaline crash plus a whole bottle of “Frenchman” will do that.

I woke up first, slipped out of bed, brushed my teeth, threw on jeans and a tank top. Celeste had taken the kids to the park, which meant I actually had a couple of quiet hours before the chaos returned.

Coffee. That was step one.

“Morning, sunshine!” I chirped when Samy finally zombie-shuffled into the kitchen.

“Morning? For who? I feel like I got hit by a truck.” I slid a steaming mug into her hands.

“That’s the magic of a good Frenchman.” She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck.

“How do you wake up happy every single day?”

“When you spend seven years in the dark,” I said softly, “you learn to be grateful every morning the sun comes up.”

Samy’s face fell. “Ju, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay.” I smiled to let her know I meant it.

I grabbed my purse. “I’m hitting the market before the kids get back. Want to come?”

“Can’t. Meeting José.”

“Samy…”

“I know what you’re going to say,” she snapped, already defensive. “But he still needs me.”

He needs your bank account.

I bit my tongue. Nothing I said would change her mind today. José was a lazy leech who used Samy’s gratitude toward his late mother like an ATM card. Samy worked herself to the bone; he slept all day and partied all night on her dime.

I just sighed. “Gratitude isn’t the same as obligation, Sam. Rosa raised you both. She’d be the first to tell him to get a damn job.”

Samy’s eyes welled up. I kissed her forehead and left before we both started crying.

The second I stepped outside—

“Ju!!”

I didn’t even need to turn. That voice belonged to Oliver.

“Morning, handsome.”

Oliver was pure golden-retriever energy wrapped in a gym-god body: sun-bleached brown hair, honey eyes, and a smile that should come with a warning label. He adored my kids; they adored him back.

He also had two massive red flags:

Seven years younger than me.

Little brother to one of Brooklyn’s biggest dealers, Chris.

Samy swears Chris secretly wants me but would rather die than hurt Oliver. I think she’s been reading too many mafia romances.

“Heading to the store?” Oliver offered his arm like we were in some 1950s rom-com.

I laughed and took it.

“So how was last night?” he asked.

My whole body tensed. No way I was telling him where I’d really been.

“Great money, light work. Samy and I love that combo.”

“No drunks puking on your shoes?”

“Thank God, no.”

We wandered the aisles. He pushed the cart, picked the ripest peaches, carried every bag. On the walk home the summer heat was brutal, so I fed him spoonfuls of the ice cream I’d bought while he juggled the groceries. We were laughing like idiots.

Two feet from my building, a black SUV screeched to the curb.

Chris stepped out.

Older, darker, scarier version of Oliver. Black tank, muscles for days, and ink that swallowed every inch of visible skin—shoulders to knuckles. The same style I’d seen last night on certain men at Paradise.

I realized I was staring. Chris noticed. One brow arched, slow and knowing.

I jerked my gaze away before Oliver caught me.

“What’s up?” Oliver asked.

“Need you to come check some papers with me,” Chris said.

“I’ll help Ju up first—”

“No worries,” I cut in, grabbing my bags. “We’re literally at the door.”

Oliver kissed my cheek. Chris gave me a curt nod that somehow still managed to feel like a full-body scan.

I escaped upstairs, put everything away, made lunch, and waited for my tornadoes to come home.

“MOMMY!!!”

Two tiny humans crashed into me. We ate, watched a princess movie, then a car movie, laughed until our sides hurt. I asked Celeste to watch them again tonight. She waved off the money I tried to give her.

“What kind of grandma charges to spoil her grandbabies?”

Hours flew. I kissed the kids goodbye, got ready, and at exactly eight o’clock Samy poked her head into my bedroom.

“Ready?”

“Nope.”

I turned back to the mirror, let my hair down in loose waves, picked up the black lace mask from my dresser, and tied it on.

I faced her again.

“Now I am.”