I Promise by Adrianne Byrd Page A

the unlock button.
    He locked it back before she could open the door. “What is your problem?” he bellowed. The volume of his own voice stabbed needles into his brain.
    â€œYou’re my problem,” she fired back. “This whole situation is my problem.” She unlocked the door again.
    He locked it. “What the hell did I do?”
    â€œLet me out,” she screamed.
    â€œNot until you talk to me,” he lowered his voice, but didn’t change his agitated tone.
    â€œWe have nothing to talk about.”
    Malcolm killed the engine, then turned and grabbed her by the shoulders.
    Reacting like a caged animal, she jerked back as her hand lashed out across his cheek.
    Shocked, he released her.
    She won the battle for her freedom and the war with the locks, as she bound out of the car and slammed the door in her wake.
    â€œAlex, wait.” Malcolm jumped from the car and rushed after her. When he caught up to her, he snatched her by the wrist and jerked her around to face him.
    She struggled to break his iron grip.
    A few curious gazes turned their way, but no one came to her aid. “Let me go.”
    â€œNo,” his voice thundered.
    She stilled her movements and confronted his questioning gaze. She’d had enough. It no longer made sense for her to wait quietly on the sidelines to watch him bounce from one woman to the next, while she nursed a broken heart.
    â€œPlease, let me go,” she requested calmly.
    Their eyes locked. The air between them charged with enough electricity to make hair stand on end.
    â€œI’m not letting you go until you tell me what is wrong with you.”

Chapter 12
    C hristian stepped into Jordan’s spacious high-rise apartment, amazed by the few pieces of furniture. She expected more from him, maybe something bold, arrogant, yet sophisticated. Instead, his place was simple. “So this is your apartment?”
    â€œAre you that disappointed?” He removed his shades and peered down at her.
    â€œQuite the opposite, I assure you.” She smiled and moved farther into his home. Black-and-white photographs of Atlanta’s Auburn Avenue in its heyday, monopolized a bookcase along with framed political leaders Martin Luther King, Jr., and Malcolm X.
    Tossing his keys down on a nearby table, Jordan gestured for her to walk ahead of him. “It won’t take me long to pack a few things. Can I get you anything to drink?”
    â€œActually, I’m dying of thirst.”
    â€œWhat would you like?” he asked, dashing into the kitchen. “I’m a bit thirsty myself.”
    â€œWater will be fine,” she called out, then stopped when she reached the archway to the living room. One sofa, a glass coffee table, and a Persian rug were all that occupied the large room.
    â€œHere you go.”
    Christian jumped, slapping her hand over her heart.
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
    She accepted the outstretched glass while sharing a fading smile. “That’s all right. Did you just move here?”
    â€œYeah, about three years ago.” His rich laughter washed over her like a powerful tidal wave. Her knees weakened at the flash of his two dimples and she was suddenly aware of how close they stood.
    â€œIt’s okay. I’m asked that question a lot. I keep telling myself that one day I’m going to decorate this place, but I haven’t found the time just yet.” He held her gaze. “Maybe all it needs is a woman’s touch.”
    How she remained standing was a mystery. Her gaze lowered and she took a sip of water. “I guess Opulence is keeping you on your toes.” It was the only thing she could think to say. Her brows furrowed in confusion at the sullen expression that crossed his features then disappeared. For a moment, she thought she had imagined it.
    â€œThat and having my own business on the side.”
    â€œYou have your own business,