Hey, book bae!
Enjoy this sneak peek of In His Possession before it goes live June 1st. It is available in eBook form on Amazon here - bit.ly/IHPBLove - and in paperback form on my website. Just click the tab that says Books :)
Assad
“I’on know why you wasted your time going over there anyway,” Hassan grumbled as they sat at their usual table in the back of Assad’s bar, aptly named Kirby’s.
The table was always left empty, no matter how packed the bar was. It didn’t matter where Assad was or how comfortable he was in that space, he never allowed anyone to sit or stand behind him. That was a lesson their uncle had to learn the hard way when an enemy caught him slipping from behind and killed him.
“If she ain’t cleaning some shit that don’t need to be cleaned, she organizing or planning or doing whatever the fuck she can to not focus on what’s happening in real-time,” Hassan continued.
Between the two brothers, Hassan was definitely the one most bitter over their situation with their mother, which made no sense to Assad since he was the one who dealt with the brunt of her abuse, neglect, and drug use when they were kids. If anything, Assad did everything he could to shield Hassan from it, and maybe that’s why Hassan hated her as much as he did. Not because of what she did to him, but because of what she did to his brother.
Still, Assad loved his mother… unconditionally… no mother how toxic and unhealthy trying to have a relationship with her was.
“She’s allowed that,” Assad countered.
“The fuck for? ’Cause Colt broke her heart thirty years ago?”
Assad’s head shook as he remained patient, not swayed by his brother’s passion. The same passion that kept Hassan from being ready to take over the business should anything happen to Assad. He was too fucking emotional. Always acting or reacting first instead of thinking things through logically. It was that way of moving that made them an easy target for their enemies, which was why Hassan was hardly ever allowed to speak during meetings. Money was his main priority… something that forced him to remain in his head… not in his heart.
“I’m not about to go there with you,” Assad dismissed, standing as their waitress arrived at their table.
Every time he stood in the presence of a woman, she smiled. Waitress or not, Assad had been groomed to be a gentleman, and he would always give women that respect. Honestly, he liked being soft with them, because it calmed the beast he had to be in the streets.
“Hello, Mr. Black,” she greeted with a grin. Her eyes lowered to Hassan who was still seated as she added, “Mr. Black.”
“Good evening, beautiful,” Assad replied as Hassan all but fucked her with his eyes.
“When you gon’ give a real nigga a chance?” Hassan asked, taking her hand and pulling her between his legs.
“What I tell you about fucking with her while she’s on the clock? Try to get your dick wet on your own time,” Assad commanded, pulling his vibrating phone out of his pocket to silence the call.
“Mane, fuck you. If I wait until she off the clock, her ass gon’ run outta here so fast I won’t even have the chance to talk to her.”
“Well… maybe that should be your confirmation that she don’t want shit to do with your ass.”
Maliya giggled softly, covering her mouth as she composed herself. “Do you gentlemen want your usual?”
Assad eyed his brother before deciding for them. Instead of going for their usual French Connection with Hennessy Black, he requested, “Give us a bottle of D’USSÉ XO.”
“Yes, sir.”
Assad slumped down further in his seat after she walked away, needing the alcohol quickly so he could begin to relax.
“I know you don’t understand why I choose to try and celebrate her birthday with her every year, but I appreciate you keeping this tradition with me.”
Hassan’s head shook. “Long as you know I do it for you—not her. I’on mind taking shots with you to celebrate her life, because, without her, I wouldn’t have you. I’ll always be grateful to her for that. For you.”
Smiling with one side of his mouth, Assad gripped the back of his brother’s neck and pulled him closer to kiss his temple. Hassan hated it every time he did it, but Assad would never stop showing his brother love. Their father made him promise to look after Hassan when he left the country, and that was a responsibility he would never take lightly… no matter how old they got.
“Fuck I tell you about kissin’ all on me and shit, bruh?” The frown that covered Hassan’s face made Assad chuckle.
“If you were in tune with your masculinity, it wouldn’t bother you so much. I’m your brother, nigga. I’ma always show you love.”
Hassan’s eyes rolled as Maliya set her tray on the table. He licked his lips, eyes lowered to her breasts, and Assad couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. Maliya wasn’t the slightest bit interested in Hassan or any man into illegal activities for that matter. She was working the night shift while in college, mainly because Assad’s bar was exclusive and his patrons tipped well. But she was a lady about her shit, and she was smart as fuck, so she put up with Hassan’s flirting and advances just like she did everyone else’s because she knew her pocket would be fatter by the end of the night.
“If you need anything else, just let me know,” Maliya directed after placing their shot glasses in front of them.
Doing the honors, Assad poured them both a shot before they toasted to their mother’s birth, her life, and their existence. She may not have been the most present parent, but everything she and Colton did shaped the man Assad was today, and as he looked around his bar… he was filled with a sense of pride that would forever leave him grateful.