Okay, all right.

Right.

“The girls come to you?” I asked cautiously.

“Yeah, believe it or not, some bitches get off on that shit. But not all of them, Anya. Most of them get in a situation where they need money. I am not a benefactor. Life leads them to that shit, I offer administration, vetting and protection. They gotta do it, they do it safe. That profession, babe, oldest in the world and it is never gonna die. You think it’s right or wrong, life led me to my code. That business is not legal and it f**kin’ should be. Women on the streets, they got nothin’ unless they’re really f**kin’ lucky and they got a man who looks after them, keeps ‘em safe and doesn’t expect freebies. That is rare. The only one I have ever known is me.”

“So you don’t take freebies?” I whispered and his face got hard, the room filled with his vibrating heat and I again whispered, this time quickly, “You don’t take freebies.”

“Me or any of my boys. They got a taste, they pay. My girls do not give that for free. And I have never stuck my c**k in one of them. Not one. They do not walk the streets. They did for Nair. They do not for me. Exclusively clients. And they do not get paid twenty dollars a blowjob. They get paid what they should for givin’ that up to some ass**le who gets off gettin’ it. I get my cut for keepin’ ‘em safe and dealin’ with hassle. Our first date, babe, the first day you spent with me, had a girl, too sweet for the f**kin’ business, too weak. Took it up the ass. Twice. Two different visits from this guy. She did not want that shit. She did not get paid for that shit. I did not get paid for providin’ that shit. And he did not say he wanted that shit. First time she took him, she didn’t report it. Second time, she called Rhashan and Rhash called me. Dude got a visit. He’s no longer on the client list and it was me, personally, who broke his cheekbone and his arm so if he thinks he can go to another shop and pull that shit, he’ll think again.”

I held his eyes. Then I asked quietly, “What did Nick do for you?”

“Nick was supposed to be my eyes and ears in the club. He watched the Russian dealer. He made certain no one but who I knew worked my club. No bitches not in my stable. No dealers. If he got a whiff that some outfit was casin’, lookin’ to take over territory, however they might do that, he reported it to me and we put a stop to it before they got any ideas or had enough time to assess my organization and find a weakness. He kept an eye on my staff, bartenders skimmin’ off the top, waitresses pullin’ bullshit moves, he reported it or, if it was piddly shit, dealt with it. You know my problems with him. What you don’t know is he did that shit and I paid him at the same time he played the big man. Sittin’ in his VIP section, suckin’ back Hennessy Paradis on me. That shit is not cheap. Took his eyes off the ball frequently in order to play big shot and get himself some pu**y. And he was the Russian dealer’s biggest client. Blow. Staff, unacceptable. Family, he made me eat that shit. The shit with you, babe, last straw. But even before that, had that shit in my life with my Mom a junkie and the world as it is, I gotta deal with the Russians when I would definitely rather not deal with those f**kin’ lunatics, I do not need my brother in that shit. And I didn’t want it in my house. I talked to him, he didn’t hear me. I told him that shit was not in my condo, he didn’t listen to me. He f**ked with you, I was done.”

“Do your parents know that Nick –?”

Knight interrupted me.

“I shield them from Nick’s bullshit but other than that, my parents know everything, Anya. I told you I had a good life and except for daily headaches like everyone’s got with work and shit, I do. And when I say everything, I mean everything. Way they met, Carl needin’ to clean her shit up, they are not Ozzie and Harriet. They know I got girls. They know it’s not only this club, the real estate I own but also that business that set their asses up in their house in Hawaii and lets them live a good life. You might think it’s whacked but with my life, my family, it isn’t. They’re proud of me, they believe in what I do and they don’t hesitate to say that shit to me.”

I pulled in a deep breath and Knight watched me do it.

Then I shared, “I’m scared of buildings falling on me when I’m in underground parking lots.”

At my words, the entirety of his powerful frame jerked.

Then he asked, “What?”

“I know it’s irrational but it’s true. Shit happens. My parents got murdered during a carjacking. So I know. Some architect makes an error with his compass or… whatever, crash. The building collapses on top of me.”

“Anya –” he whispered.

“And,” I went on, cutting him off, “I’m scared of elevators. I get in them and unless I can focus on something else, all I can think is that they’ll plummet me to my death. I never took the elevator in my building. You live on the fifteenth floor. I’m in okay shape but that, uh… no.”

Knight was silent a moment then he asked softly, “Baby, why are you tellin’ this shit to me?”

“Because you just told me all your secrets. I thought I should return the favor.”

At my words, instantly, his head dropped to contemplate his boots but I knew he wasn’t seeing his boots because I saw his eyes close on the way down.

“Knight?”

His head shot up and he growled, “Here.”

I went there and two feet away, his arms shot out, his fingers curled tight into my h*ps and he yanked me to him, his arms closing around me. One of his arms stayed super tight around my waist, plastering my body to his while the other hand drifted up and tangled in my hair.

His eyes holding mine captive, he whispered, “You cool with this shit?”

“It’s a shock, I will admit. But you told me if I hear shit, I should come to you and you’d explain. You explained and you did it thoroughly. But bottom line, I’m the woman for you, Knight, I was made for you, just as I am. What you don’t get is, you’re the man for me just as you are. I get that, honey. And I got it a while ago.”

I got out the “go” in “ago” but just barely before his hand in my hair tilted my head one way, his slanted the other and his mouth slammed down on mine.

Then he plundered and I held on, like usual, like always, enjoying the ride.

He tore his mouth from mine but slid his lips along my cheek to my ear, holding me close, tight, in a way it felt he’d never let me go and he whispered, “Fuck, I love you.”