SAINT BAPTISTE 2: the soul ties series

Chapter 6

“Yeah, Jackie?”I groggily answered with my eyes closed. “It’s seven in the morning and you’ve called me?—

“Ugh! That’s how you answer your phone? Bonjou!” Every single time my cousin Jacqueline called me, she was the same. Excited. Always had too much fuckin’ energy. It was too early for that shit. “Where are your manners?”

“Good morning, Jackie,” I greeted through a sigh as I massaged my temples.

“That’s a little better,” she complained. “The email I sent you. You never got back to me on it?—”

With dipped brows, I interrupted. “Email? What email?”

She didn’t say anything. The only thing I got from her was a sigh. Good. I appreciated the brief moment of silence. I used it as an opportunity to look for the email she sent me.

The Baptiste Family Business was a very well-oiled machine. Everyone played a role. Although the women didn’t get their hands dirty, the role they played was important too. They were nurtures. They took care of us. It took me getting into this role to truly see just how valuable they were. Growing up, I only appreciated the meals and the cultural wisdom but there was a major shift once I was appointed head of the family. They oiled the machine that made sure it ran efficiently. Without them, there would be no machine.

When we went from the typical street shit, to occupying spaces Pops ‘nem never even dreamt of, it was that nurturing that kept us afloat. Eventually, it went from simple suggestions to actually giving the women positions to help the men stay on course. We didn’t need righthand men because we had them. I had Jacqueline. She was assigned to us. Samuel’s descendants. Jahad rarely used her. However, I wasn’t as polished as that nigga. Jackie for sure had her work cut out with me. She stayed busy. But... she liked it. I gave her something to do.

“What is this?” I asked, confused. “What?—

“You can’t read?” She responded, repaying my rudeness with attitude.

“I can read very fuckin’ well, Jacqueline. I’m not?—

“You’re being honored. The event is in a month and a half. You should prepare a speech. You have a fitting with the tailor Tuesday. I was thinking, something custom made? For the both of you. And?—”

“I don’t have a plus one,” I interrupted.

“Wait, what?—”

“I’ll need a date. Don’t bother sending a list. Pick whoever looks good, Jack. Aight? I?—”

“You haven’t needed a date in?—”

“I’m aware of how long it’s been, Jackie.”

Needing a date fucked with me. I had to attend The Black Effect, a formal event that celebrated thriving black business owners, created by a local organization called the Motor City Black Business Alliance. The only reason I didn’t decline was because I couldn’t. They were honoring me with an award, and it would be bad business not to show up. Keeping up appearances was important in the Baptiste family. If you were at the head, you had to have someone on your arm at events. It was non-negotiable. Since I’d been in position, if there was an event for me to attend, she was on my arm. I didn’t go out often, but when I did, she was there. For three years straight, I didn’t need a date. Didn’t have to be set up. Hadn’t been set up since high school prom.

Jacqueline was quiet again. I could almost hear the questions swimming around her big ass head. Questions that were better in her head than out of it.

“Well,” Jackie said though a sigh, breaking the awkward silence. “In that case, I really wish you had gone over it when I sent it. Last week. Do you need me to send you email remind?—

“No I do not need you to send me email reminders, Jackie. My phone does a pretty good job already?—”

“Tone sou Tét. Apparently not. It is imperative that we stay on course, Saint.”

It was too early.

Too fuckin’ early. I hadn’t slept. Couldn’t remember the last time I slept a full night... yes I could. I could remember the last time I slept very fucking well. I was next to her and it damn sure wasn’t last night. So yeah, my patience was thin. Too thin to be lectured by my older cousin at seven o’clock in the morning.

Zeroing in on the ceiling, I massaged my temples and closed my eyes. The minute I closed them, I saw her. Every time I closed them, I saw her. I couldn’t escape her. I couldn’t focus. Needed to. But shit. How was I supposed to focus? If I couldn’t sleep? I was losing it. I thought she’d only take the best part of me when she left, but apparently, she took everything.

“Listen. I’ve been a little busy this week and for that, I do apologize. I can assure you that going forward I will be on top of things, aight?”

That silence lingered a little longer before Jacquline finally said something. “Saint?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay? Sick? Should I bring you some bouyon?—?”

I lightly chuckled and shook my head. “Nah, I’m good. I appreciate you and again... I apologize. Going forward, you will get my best.”

“Okay, now. I’m just saying. You’re not sounding like yourself. First you answer my call without manners, tell me you need a date, then you’re apologizing. Seems like you’re all over the place. I’m trying to make sure you’re doing alright. That’s all.. I?—“

“I promise I’m good, Jack,” I interrupted, shaking my head.

“If you say so, I believe you,” she paused. “As far as the date. I’m going to look around and?—“

“Do not send me a list. Pick whoever, Jackie. I mean it.”

I didn’t need to see a list. It would’ve matter who was on it if she wasn’t. I didn’t give a fuck. Whoever I took would be nothing more than an accessory. A nice lil’ arm piece. That was it. The only thing I needed was for her to look good.

“Okay.,” she somberly replied with a sigh. “You know... They doubted you. The elders. They said you would fail. Do you know what happens if you fail? Samuel’s descendants then appears unsuitable. Everything will be handed off to Emu. it will not go down to Blaise. Do you understand what that means? You lose rank. You have no idea what it means to be ranked below where you sit now.”

With that, we ended the call. Tossing the phone aside I interlocked my fingers behind my head and put my eyes back on the ceiling. And there she was... again. Eyes wide open, she was there. Always there. I didn’t need to close my eyes to see her. Somehow, I had to find a balance between living inside of that hazy little illusion, and reality. That’s what I’d been doing. Slipping and living in that fantasy we created five days ago. When I could... in those tiny cracks in time where I was allowed to... I slipped. Slipping was easy, it was finding my way out that was the problem. Shit was warm and peaceful there.

With a deep breath, I shook the thought away and finally sat up on side of the bed. Clasping my hands together, I looked to the floor and moved my head from side to side, to crack my neck. In all the years I’d been fucking, I’d never had a woman do me the way she did. I was completely out of my element. I had to shake back though. I had too much weight to carry as is. As much as I’d love to carry another one hundred and something pounds on my shoulders, I couldn’t. I had to let her go. The promise I made to Jackie was peanuts; I made a promise to the family. I couldn’t drop the ball.

“The meetingwith the lawyer on the 24th,” she paused to take a sip of her coffee. “I won’t be… I won’t be able to make it. Is there any way?—“

“Why won’t you be able to make it Tash?” I interrupted, with my head tossed back against the couch, eyes closed, just listening.

We were having our weekly family meeting. After a while, I realized that the easiest way to handle juggling all of the shit I had in my hands would be by giving some of it off to Tasha and Blaise. That was the only way both the family and the business would be taken care of efficiently. There was only so much I could do on my own. The meeting was finally coming to an end but in true Natasha fashion, she stalled and waited until the very end to finally speak up about whatever had her antsy since she walked in the crib. That was the last thing I needed, since Blaise was late, and we didn’t start on time. He had a new bitch.

Ari didn’t like her. She didn’t care for any of the ho’s in his lil’ cult, for real. But there was something about the new one that really got under her skin. She hated shorty and threatened to keep Bebe away from him if he didn’t agree to keep his lifestyle away from their daughter. She was getting older and asked too many questions. The nigga went on about the shit for a good fifteen minutes before we got down to business.

“Um.”

With a sigh, I lifted my head and looked over at her. Something was up with her. Had been since she showed up. Her smile was forced. She was fidgety. Kept fucking with the big unnecessary puffball hanging off her Chanel bag.

Through a deep breath Natasha said, “I can’t do the 24th. I’m going to be out of the country and?—”

“Out of the country?” Blaise interrupted with a cocked brow. “Out of the country with who?”

Running my hand down over my waves, I tossed my head back against the couch. Here we go. These meetings were hard to get through already, todays especially. A nigga really didn’t need the added-on stress. Type of time I was on, I was liable to let these two muthafuckas go at it however they felt necessary.

My patience was thin. Lack of sleep played a big part in that. I’d love to say that Naoki was the furthest thing from my mind, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t at the front of it. But she was there. Always there. Lingering in the shadows. Every time there was a brief moment of silence, she crept to the front of it. I hated the shit. Couldn’t shake the fucking woman. I was like a got damn addict, looking for his next fix. Except, there would be no next fix. It was only the beginning of my rehabilitation, and I was going through withdrawals already.

Tasha shifted around a bit and shrugged her left shoulder. “Yes, out of the country. With who doesn’t matter. I just won’t be here. So, we need to see if we can switch the meeting to?—”

Taking a deep breath, I sat up again. “Where out of the country are you going to be, Natasha?” I questioned, with my eyes fixed on the brown and tan hues swimming around the cup of hot coffee as I stirred it. Coffee. I had coffee. Maurine prepared it for me this morning. Said she brewed it for the ‘family’ but I knew Maurine well enough to know she’d prepared it for me specifically. She noticed the bags under my eyes. I saw her focus shift to them this morning when she arrived. She didn’t mention them. Instead, she brewed a strong ass pot of coffee, poured me a glass, and made sure to mention that she made coffee for my meeting. I thanked her and accepted it, although I had never drunk a cup of coffee in my life.

A question like that, asked by either of our brothers, would have been asked with their eyes on hers but I didn’t need to look her in the eye to invoke intimidation. I rarely questioned Tasha. Shit, barely called her by her full name. If I was asking her anything by her full name, the gravity of my question had been conveyed crystal clear.

“Bali,” Tasha said through a sigh. “I’ll be home that Sunday morning and?—”

“Who are you going to Bali with?” I continued slowly stirring my coffee.

There was a brief silence before another one of her sighs filled the massive space. “A friend.”

“I’m sure that friend has a name,” Blaise interjected.

She took another deep breath, and that awkward silence filled the massive space for a second time. I let her have it. It was aight. I sat with it because this wasn’t a conversation Tasha was used to having. She was stressed. I sat in silence, impishly stirring coffee I didn’t drink, and Blaise stood against the armoire with his arms crossed over his chest gawking at her with his top lip turned up into a snarl. I understood the hesitation perfectly. Patience was one of my strongest traits. However, even my patience could run thin.

After a minute too long, I stopped stirring and shifted my eyes up at her. Finally, she spoke.

“His—”

“His?” Blaise rudely spat with a grunt before pushing up away from the armoire to pace. “He only wants to fuck. Didn’t we teach you anything? You are a Baptiste,” he said through clenched teeth. And tight lips. “Act like it.”

I didn’t expect the nigga to keep his cool for long. He never could. He was a fool to believe she was talking about anything other than a nigga when she mentioned Bali. Fuck did he think? Tasha was going on a girls trip out the country? Natasha didn’t have friends; she had cousins. Just like us. We didn’t move around with anybody outside of the bloodline unless there was sex involved. Blaise just like Jahad, hadn’t separated teenaged Natasha from grown up Natasha. I understood. Even she had a hard time separating the two. It wasn’t just the naivety it was a lot of shit.

I was fucking up. We were fucking up. Years ago, Tasha would have never been able to blindside us. We would have known who Natasha was dating before their first date. Shit... low key, would have known the minute there was an exchange of phone numbers. But... things were different. Shit was hectic. Between Samuel’s declining health, the change of positions, and me trying to keep my fucking head above water, keeping close tabs on Natasha had gone unchecked. That was an area that couldn’t go neglected.

Blaise and I made eye contact. We did that thing that only Baptiste men could do. Communicated with our eyes. This wasn’t on me. It was on us. But because Blaise didn’t know what the fuck accountability was, he’d place the blame solely on me.

Tasha squinted at him with fire behind her brown eyes. “You taught me a lot,” With a scowl, she rolled her eyes. “Anyway, like I was saying... You know what? Fuck what I was saying. The flights are booked and I’m leaving rather y’all like it or not. Contrary to what the two of you may believe about me, I’m not just some stupid little girl. I know what I’m doing.”

“You do?” Blaise condescendingly asked with a snarl. “Hm? Tell us, Tasha. Tell us, what are you doing exactly?”

“Whatever the hell I want to do,” She beefed up, challenging him with a snarl of her own. Another chuckle forced me to stand up straight. “In case you forgot, I’m a grown ass woman. I’m not a child anymore and I can move around as I please.”

That was true.

She was spittin’.

Still didn’t take away from the fact that Tash didn’t have the usual upbringing so mentally, she wasn’t as mature as the average twenty-six-year-old woman.

I ran my tongue over the corner of my mouth before pushing up from the couch.

With a nod and a light smile, I agreed. “Facts. You’re not a little girl anymore, Tash. You can move around as you please. Nobody’s trying to stop you from doing you, sé. You know how this shit go.” Standing in front of her, I stuffed my hands into the front pockets of my navy-blue slacks. “How long you know buddy?”

“A few months,” She proudly answered with her eyes locked on mine, before snatching her apricot peacoat off the couch and draping it over her forearm. With her thin shoulders pulled back and head held high, she averted her gaze between Blaise and me. “I had Carlisle do an extensive background check on him before we went on our first date. Remember I’m a Baptiste too. I might not know how to operate a drug empire or?—”

“Poze (Chill),” I gritted with my eyes shifted up at her. Pulling my hands from my pockets, I circled my index fingers in the air to remind her of the houseguest she’d obviously forgotten about.

“She’s a Baptiste,” Blaise condescendingly mocked with his arms crossed over his chest, his accident thicker than usual. “What is this niggas name, Natasha? Hm? You say you had Carlisle do an extensive background check on him. You don’t give a job like that to Carlisle.” He scowled with flaring nostrils. “You give that job,” he paused and pointed at his chest. “To me!”

Tasha frowned with disgust and shook her head. “Blaise, please. Like I said, Carlisle handled it, and he checks out.”

I stood there, in silence, just... watching. Letting them have their worthless exchange of words. Watched as the vein running down the middle of Blaise’s forehead was on the verge of bursting. Watched as Natasha nervously twiddled her rings, pretending to be the ‘grown ass woman’ she so badly wanted to convince us that she was. Just... watched and observed in silenced. Paid attention to the shakiness in her voice as Blaise’s raised, his laced with worry. He was nervous too. Realizing just how much of a handle we didn’t have on things. His eyes were shifty. Probably tormented by the fact that he had a daughter. A little girl who too would grow into a young woman and think she ‘had It’. Bro was spiraling. But what they both needed to do was fucking relax.

“Relax,” I said through a sigh.

They didn’t hear me.

Continued their worthless, heated exchange. Natasha called Blaise an asshole. Blaise called her a cheap whore. I’d heard enough.

“Chill!” I yelled, with my eyes locked on Blaise, finally getting both their attention. “Chill,” I repeated, this time a lot calmer than before.

I shifted my eyes to Blaise, and we did that thing again. Spoke a language that was understood only between him, Jah, and I. And... he relaxed. Enough. I would have liked for him to stop pacing, but he hadn’t. He paced, roughly running both of his hands over his thick hair. He needed a cut, badly. He was untamed. His beard was just as unruly. I made a mental note to check in with him. See what was up with the nigga. After what he’d said about Ari tripping, I could only imagine what he was going through.

Listening to Natasha... learning about this new nigga just now... made me do a bit of self-reflection. I hadn’t been checking in with my peoples. I always checked in with them. I was the one that made sure everyone was straight. I hadn’t though. I’d been so wrapped up in what the fuck I had going on that checking in with them had been the furthest thing from my mind. I was slipping, Slipping a little too much.

I couldn’t slip where Tash was concerned. Baby sis was too green. I needed to keep close ties on her. The type of ties that would go unnoticed. But first, I had to diffuse the situation. While I gave a fuck about what she had going on, I needed her to trust me. I needed her comfortable. The way Blaise was carrying on, wouldn’t work.

I looked away from Blaise and softened my expression before I put my eyes on Tasha. “Sis,” I stressed. “We trust you. This nigga B just bein’ B. You know him. You know us. We love you and want to make sure you’re safe. That’s all. It’s all love, baby.”

Her shoulders raised and fell with a light sigh. “I know what I’m doing. I’m safe?—”

“Would we be who we are if we didn’t make sure though, Tash? All bullshit aside.”

The corners of her mouth turned up with a grimace. “No.”

“Exactly,” I casually told her with raised brows before fishing my buzzing phone from my pocket. Nix, confirming a shipment. “Sit down for me, Natasha.”

She rolled her eyes, but her spoiled ass sat on the couch. Once she was seated, I locked eyes with Blaise and gestured towards the couch opposite of her. He brushed his hand over the top of his wild mane, pushed away from the armoire and made his way to the other couch to sit. He needed to pay attention to the difference between the way he handled her and the way I handled her. Blaise was no good with women. Neither of us knew what to really do with them. I mean shit, what nigga really knew what to do with a woman?But I knew enough to understand that they needed to be handled with a certain type of delicacy. Blaise didn’t know what it meant to be delicate. With anything or anybody. Shit, sometimes he struggled with Bebe too. However, because she was his daughter, he was as gentle as he could possibly be.

“Listen... Let’s do this.” I paused. “I’ll check in with Julian and see if we can move the date. If not, you’ll just have to be briefed on it when you return.”

As I made my way over to the couch Blaise sat on to sit beside him, I could feel Tasha’ eyes burning into me. “I really hope you’re not about to?—”

“This is the part where you listen,” I interrupted as I bunched the top of my slacks up to sit. “With your ears. Not your emotions. Take them shits out of it.” With my eyes locked on hers, I lightly nodded. “You hear me?”

She crossed her arms and Blaise lightly grunted. “Uncross your arms. Sit up straight and listen. You’re a Baptiste, right?” With flaring nostrils, he added. “Act like one.”

Tasha slowly uncrossed her arms and shifted around in her seat. Shoulders back, head straight, eyes locked. On Blaise. He gave her a light nod of approval, turned to me, and gave me the same nod, with different meaning.

I continued. “You want us to trust you. We trust you,” I interrupted before biting down on my teeth to bite back on my words. “We don’t trust him. With you. This isn’t about you.”

“If you trust me, me trusting him should be enough.”

Blaise laughed.

Not because what Natasha said was funny, but because it was sad. I understood the sentiments. It was sad. Sad because she didn’t get it. There was so much about this... so much about us that she didn’t understand. How sheltered was she? Who did she think we were? What family did she think she was a part of? How na?ve was she, really? What had Samuel done to her?

Samuelfailed her.

Not us.

“No sis,” I mumbled. “That’s... that’s not how this works at all, Natasha.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Before she could cross her arms again, I jumped up, snatched her hand and grabbed it. “Listen to me. I need you to really listen to me,” I stressed with a squint, deciding it was best for me to sit right next to her.

“To us,” Blaise added.

I looked over at him. I needed the nigga to follow my lead. I needed him to read the fuckin’ room. This was a delicate situation. Natasha was, indeed, a grown woman but she didn’t have the mentality of one. Natasha was like a teenaged girl, finally free. If we didn’t proceed with caution, she’d rebel. We didn’t need that. Shit, I didn’t need that. I had enough on my fuckin’ plate already.

“That’s not enough. Not because we don’t trust your judgment but because of who we are,” I squinted. “You get my drift, Tash? For a second, set your emotions aside. Step outside of your body and really look at what you want us to be okay with. Think ‘bout it, Tasha. Look at us. Look at the family you come from. You knew how this conversation would go; you’ve been nervous since you walked into my house.”

Her eyebrows jumped a little and I smiled.

“Exactly.” I stood up and flicked my wrist to look at my watch again. “When do you leave?”

She sighed. “The 22nd.”

“Alright, bet. That gives us time to look into the nigga before you go.” I told her.

Tasha drew back with offense. “You think I’m going to just walk him into an ambush?—”

“Ambush?” I asked with a frown. “Nah. Fuck you think? We gon’ jump the nigga when he?—”

“Don’t act like y’all haven’t?—”

“We’re grown ass men, baby girl,” Blaise interjected.

She cocked her head to the side. “Are you though?”

Blaise smirked and gave her the middle finger.

“This isn’t up for debate,” I cut in, in all seriousness. “I’ve given you patience. I’ve given you understanding. Now it’s time you did the same for me.”

Natasha and I had our own little wordless eye exchange. Lasted about fifteen seconds before she was grabbing her purse to get her phone out to text me. I was at my wits end with patience.

Blaise, with a smirk, said, “If we happen to like the bitch ass nigga... who knows, maybe I’ll let you bring ‘em to the grand opening.”

I shook my head, scoffed and grabbed my phone from my pocket just as Tasha’s text came through.

She pursed her lips together and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, thank you Blaise. For inviting my friend, someone you don’t know, before your own brother. I appreciate that so much,” she condescendingly replied with a phony ass smile. “Make it make sense.”

With raised brows I shifted my eyes over at Blaise. “What?”

Blaise was opening his own spot. The Inferno Lounge—a speakeasy in downtown Detroit. It would be his very first independently owned entity. Which was crazy, considering Blaise was thirty-one. Samuel kept him on a tight leash. Before Inferno, Everything Blaise owned was attached to him.

“You didn’t tell him, did you? Pussy,” Natasha said with a laugh before grabbing her things again. “He still haven’t spoken to Jahad about The Inferno Lounge. Do you know how fucked up that’ll be if our brother has to find out about Inferno from someone other than him? If Jahad’s not going to be there, neither will I be. If you like ‘the bitch ass nigga’ or not. Have a good day, brothers.”

Once Natasha left the house, the tension in the room heightened and for perfectly good reason. I told him a month ago to make sure he sat down with Jah and told him about Inferno before he sent invites to the grand opening out. He hadn’t, apparently. I got the text two days ago.

What we had going on stayed between us. There was no family gossip. The only thing people knew was that Jahad stepped down for the sake of starting a family. They knew nothing of what transpired between him and Samuel. Not even ma knew the details of the conversation they had. B sending a mass amount of text messages out, telling people about a grand opening that wasn’t scheduled to happen until New Years Eve, posed as a threat to our privacy. If Jah found out from anybody other than B...

“I’ll check in with the nigga when—” he stated, cutting into the awkward silence.

“There is no checking in, B,’ I interrupted. “You were supposed to pull up on him a month ago.”

“I’ve been busy,” He replied with nonchalance.

I shook my head. “What you’ve been is a bitch. Untuck your dick, nigga.”

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t see him as the man he’d grown into. I was thirteen—looking up at sixteen-year-old B. I mean, I always heardhim. Bitching, complaining, whining. Shit like that. But never saw him. Today, Blaise let that tough exterior down... just for a second because the minute he saw me see him, he put it right back up.

“Fuck you, bitch,” He said with pinched brows. “I have been busy. You want to discuss why you out, catching bodies over bi?—”

“Easy, nigga,” I interrupted with a smirk as I ran hot water into my mug.

“Yeah, aight. You hear me though, nigga.”

“And you heard me. I see you switched lanes, bitch,” I chastised with a laugh as I stood and extended my hand. “When I pull up on him about the will, I’ll slide to grab you first.”

He stood and we slapped hands. “Aight. ‘Preciate you, baby.”

“You already know,” I responded.