Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Rolani pulled up to his house a little after eight, cutting the engine and letting the silence settle around him.
The night had been solid—better than solid.
Being invited to dinner with Kennedi’s parents, even when she hadn’t appreciated him showing up unannounced, all of it stuck with him.
He kept replaying small moments: her making his plate, the way she’d looked at him in that driveway.
Once again, Kennedi had come around and had his nose wide open. He hated it too, because he’d stand by her being foul when she left. It didn’t matter that it was months ago. He felt he was owed something, a phone call, shit, anything.
But life hadn’t slowed down. Between Monroe, business, and everything else pulling at him, his schedule stayed packed; he didn’t know how he was going to add her to it, but he had to. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her.
Starting tomorrow, avoiding each other wasn’t an option. And he planned to use that to his advantage. He’d prove himself in the margins, between meetings and work obligations, show her he wasn’t whatever version she’d built up in her head.
She could run all she wanted before. But now? She was on his turf. And she couldn’t outrun him.
He may have left SBB, but you were never really gone.
Access still existed out of respect; if he wanted to put the word out to hit his line if she was spotted, it was what would happen.
If he wanted the word out that she was off limits, it would be done before sunrise.
He wanted to. But Kennedi wasn’t property.
She was grown. Steel-spined. Even if he’d turned her to putty a few times.
“Shit,” he fussed, thinking about that night as he got out of the car.
His phone lit up in his palm as he walked through the front door.
Two notifications: one from Kennedi, her name glowing across the screen.
About time. He knew that showing up at her parents’ house and forcing her hand would mean she would understand that texting him back was a must. That’s how it was supposed to work—he pushed, she responded.
Simple.
And he didn’t give a fuck about it.
Kennedi: I like the chase, remember?
A slow grin spread across his face. Of course she did. That was the problem. She liked the tension. The game. The way he applied pressure and then eased up enough to make her feel in control.
His phone buzzed again.
The second was from the facility. Robin’s weekly call was scheduled for five minutes from now.
He dropped onto his couch, loosened his chain, and waited. When the automated voice announced the call, he accepted without hesitation.
“What’s good, big bro?”
“Shit, you tell me. How are you holding up in there?”
“Same shit, different day. But I ain’t call to talk about me. I heard some interesting shit through the grapevine.”
Rolani’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah? What you hear?”
“Nigga, I heard the baddie from Velvet back in town.”
“How you know about Velvet? Nigga that was months ago.”
Rolani couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. “News must travel slow with you slaw ass, gossiping ass niggas. Don’t yall got some noodles to concoct?”
“That’s cold. Nigga, you know how it is. Everybody got eyes, and everybody talks. Especially niggas in jail and the pillow talking hoes that love em’.” Robin laughed, but there was genuine curiosity underneath. “So who is she? And what Tahlia bird ass gon say?”
“Fuck Tahlia. It ain’t fucked with that girl in months. And y’all niggas need to mind y’all business. Not y’all living vicariously through bitches at the club.”
“Fuck you nigga. I will when you do.” Robin’s tone shifted slightly, more serious now. “But for real though, you keeping this one tucked I see.”
Rolani leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “I met her in LA. At G’s premiere. Her name’s Kennedi. I ain’t got much more to tell than that because she got me fucked up.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Kennedi... that the one you put on the Luther tab?”
“Yeah, she loves Luther’s. I had to come through on that.”
“That’s what’s up. You being careful though?”
“It ain’t like that,” Rolani cut in. “This is different. She’s different.”
“Different how? I hate when niggas say that.”
Rolani sat forward, elbows on his knees. “Man, yo jaded ass. She’s different because she doesn’t need anything from me. Got her own career, her own money, come from good people. Smart as hell, independent—” He paused. “And the body—. I fuck with her.”
“Aight, aight.” Robin laughed. “I get it. She bad. I heard niggas in here acting like she a fuckin T-bone steak.”
“Tell them bum ass niggas to back the fuck back on that one. I’ll call the warden on they asses. Lock y’all niggas down with a quickness. On my granny.”
“That’s fucked up, bruh. I hope she what you need. I really do. Don’t nobody deserve it more than you. I been praying Pearl send somebody down there for you.”
“‘Preciate, that.”
“When do I meet her?”
“As soon as you touch down. But I gotta make sure she quits that running shit first.” Rolani laughed. “She keeps yelling ‘keep it professional’ since we work together now. But we passed that. ”
“Oh, you fucking up the workplace?” Robin’s laugh echoed through the line.
“Man, I ain’t trying to fuck nothing up.
Paige and G had been on me for months about meeting her, but I wasn’t trying to hear it.
” His voice dropped, got more serious. “But from the second we met on the plane, she’s all I can think about.
Muthafucka ghosted me for six months. Now she’s back around and… ”
“You’re stuck.”
“Like a kink in a chain, bruh.”
“Then don’t fuck it up,” Robin said simply. “Don’t let your pride, fear, or your past shit, anything get in the way. I already did that shit and look where it got me.”
Rolani heard what his brother wasn’t saying—the regret about his friend Spirit, about the choices that led to where he was now.
“But I ain’t tryna talk about that,” Rolani said, though he was still smiling, thinking about showing up at Kennedi’s parents’ house like he had every right to be there. The memory warmed him even now, but it didn’t stay long. It was time to get into the real reason for the call.
“We need to talk about Monshay. You asked me to give you time to handle it. I did. Now I’m finna send some people to find her ass and drag that bitch back to face her daughter.”
Robin’s whole demeanor shifted, the playfulness draining from his voice. “Bruh, that hoe ain’t worth it. Fuck her. Swear.”
“I hear you, my nigga. I do, but nah, she gotta answer for this. And I don’t care if she does it in spirit, if you get me.”
Robin’s sigh came through heavy. “I had Duke file the paperwork last week. I’m moving forward with getting her rights terminated.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. She ain’t showed up for Monroe in months, Ro. She missed her birthday, missed her spelling bee qualifier, missed every weekend she was supposed to have. I’m done making excuses.”
Robin never bad-mouthed her in front of or anywhere near Monroe.
Rolani didn’t agree with that approach. Monroe was smart as hell, probably smarter than both of them combined.
All that pussyfooting Robin did, pretending like Monshay wasn’t the piece of shit at the bottom of the toilet, rubbed Rolani the wrong way.
Monroe was his heart, his whole world, and unless it was death itself, there was no excuse for being a shit parent. None.
There was heaviness in Robin’s voice. This wasn’t the passive acceptance Rolani had been frustrated with—this was a man who’d reached his limit.
“What Monroe say about it?”
“I haven’t told her yet. Waiting on Duke to tell me when.” Robin’s voice cracked slightly. “But she already knows, you know? She stopped asking about her mama months ago. Just stopped.”
“That’s fucked up, bruh.”
“Yeah, it is. But I can’t keep letting her hurt Monroe to protect Monshay’s image. My baby deserves better than a mama who treats her like an option and plots on the one who been raising her.”
Rolani cracked his knuckles; this was a sore spot for him. “You need me to handle anything? Say the word, Rob, I’ll take the trash out.”
“Nah. I need you to be there for Monroe. Be the constant you’ve always been. She’s gonna need that when this shit gets official. And keep running Luther’s for me. That restaurant’s for Monroe and the future Prachers.”
“You know I got both. Always.”
“I know you do.” The humor left Robin's voice. “That's why I can do this from in here. ‘Cause I know even if I fuck it up, you got my back, and you got hers. I’m about to walk these next few months down.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“Word on the street Spirit gon’ be back full-time soon. I know y’all history complicated, but… I love you, and I want you to be happy one day. Get that shit right if that’s who you want. Fuck the time. Fuck the past. Man up and handle it.”
“I hear you, but I gotta handle this shit with Monshay first. If I go after Lovelynn, I can’t miss. And I can’t do shit for her locked up.”
“And I don’t expect you to.” Rolani pushed up from the couch.
“One minute remaining,” the automated voice cut in.
“Aight, I gotta bounce,” Robin said. “But real shit, Ro—if this Kennedi woman is really the one, don’t let her slip. You deserve that. We both do. And Monroe needs to see what a real partnership looks like.”
“I hear you.”
“And yo—tell my baby I love her. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“I got you.”
“Love you, bruh.”
“Love you too.”
The line went dead.
Rolani slid the phone in his pocket and headed upstairs.
Monroe’s door was half-open, her ceiling of clouds and LED lights illuminating the room and the posters on her wall. She was curled on her bed, tablet in hand, braids splayed across her pillow. When she spotted him, her face transformed.
“Unc Ro!” she squealed, dropping the tablet and sitting up.
He sat at the foot of her bed, tugging playfully at one of her braids. “You miss me?”
“Duh.” Her nose scrunched, but her smile faltered quickly. “She’s not coming back, huh? Daddy’s being too chill about it, and he’s avoiding me.”
“Roe, I pray you never know that bone-tired feeling, so I can’t even say one day you’ll get it. But...” he paused, selecting his words carefully. “You know how your mama is. But you got us, shorty. You’re not alone. Ever.”
Her little shoulders slumped. “But why won’t she get it together for me? I know I can be annoying and too smart for my own good, but I’m...I’m her kid. That’s a given.” She laughed a little, but the sound held no humor.
He looked at her then, seeing questions in her eyes that no fourteen-year-old should have to ask.
He reached out, pulling her small frame into his arms. “It ain’t you, Monroe.
Don’t ever think it’s you. Grown folks got their own battles, but that doesn’t mean you’re not loved.
It doesn’t mean it’s your fault either. You the smartest, funniest, toughest kid I know.
Don’t ever let anybody make you question that. ”
She nodded against him, arms squeezing tight.
“I’ma figure this out,” he promised, voice low, more to himself than to her. “Me and your daddy both. You gon’ be good. That’s on me.”
“And on Pearl,” she said, finishing.
“Especially on Pearl.”
When she finally let him go, her smile was smaller but steadier. He kissed her forehead and stood. “Oh, and that one last thing you wanted? I may be very close to securing that.” Monroe’s eyes went wide.
He pulled up a picture of Kennedi. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
She squeezed them shut, grinning.
“Okay, open and tell me your first impression.”
Monroe peeked through one eye before a wide smile formed on her face.
“She’s very, very pretty. She also looks smart, too smart for you, Uncle Ro.”
“Damn, it’s like that.”
“Just kidding, when can I meet her?”
“It’s a work in progress. But soon,” he winked, stepping out of the room and pulling the door to a soft close.
Back in the kitchen, Rolani looked at Kennedi's picture on the screen — her smile, those eyes.
This had become a nightly habit for him.
He'd gladly accept being called infatuated because maybe he was.
It hadn't been long, he understood that, but what they’d shared had meant everything to him.
Since losing Pearl, everything had felt heavier.
Quieter. Color had drained from the world.
Then Kennedi showed up and brought back a piece of him he hadn't realized was gone.
She was the one.