CHAPTER EIGHT #3
The words echoed long after the call ended.
She let out a shaky breath, reaching for her Kindle just to have something to hold.
Something that didn’t talk back. But the ache stayed.
Stubborn as ever. Right there in her chest. Then her phone buzzed again.
Cassius. Her heart jumped. She wanted to hear his voice.
Even if it cut her open. She told herself to ignore it.
To be strong. But her thumb hovered too long.
She let it ring out. The screen flashed again.
This time... She answered blindly. Swiped before she could second-guess it.
Her voice came out soft. Teasing. Pretending she was braver than she felt.
"Ain't you getting married, Cassius? What you doin' calling me this late?
" Silence. Then a laugh. Low. Ugly. Her stomach dropped.
"Wrong nigga..." he said, amusement lacing his tone. Her blood went cold. "Marcus..."
"Nah," he said. "Say my name again like you just said his."
Jackie froze, her fingers tightening around the phone.
"You slippin', Jackie," he went on, smug. "Niggas calling you late night, got you gigglin' like a teenager. Don't forget who the fuck you belong to."
"I don't belong to you," she snapped, but her voice cracked.
"But you do," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "You gon' always belong to me. The sooner you get that through your head, Jackie, the easier this gon' be."
"You don't ow—" Marcus cut her off, his voice like a blade.
"And as long as you wanna keep in contact with my son, you gon' follow my fuckin' rules."
"I've followed the rules!" she burst out, her voice shaking.
“And you still took our calls away. I haven't spoken to my son since May.
It's now September. He just started his senior year, and his birthday is next week.
He needs his mother too." Silence settled over the line.
Then Marcus's chuckle slid through, low and ugly.
"Barely." He laughed. "Be very fuckin' clear, Jackie.
That's my motherfuckin' son. I don't care if you carried and birthed him.
That lil' nigga came from my nut sack, and I've provided for him.
All that boy know is private school and suburban livin'.
The only time he ever been exposed to the hood was when he came to see you and your bastard in it.
" Jackie's throat tightened, anger cutting through the fear. "Don't ever disrespect my fuckin' son."
"Oh, shut the fuck up," Marcus snapped. "You had that lil' nigga to spite me, and you know it.
You thought you was doin' your big one havin' that baby by that square-ass nigga.
Then when he died, your ass was right back in the hood, in that raggedy-ass house where he found you.
" Her voice trembled, but she didn't back down.
"First of all, I had my son out of love.
Something you know nothin' about." He laughed, the sound cold and sharp.
"Love? That's what you call it? Look where love got you, Jackie.
Alone. Broke. Crying over a phone like a bitch who don't learn.
" The words hung heavy between them, his voice thick with venom, hers trembling from the weight of everything she’d already lost. “The fuck, cat got your tongue?
" he sneered. "That boy 'bout to be a grown-ass man.
He got himself a little piece of pussy now, just got his L last week, already lookin' at cars.
Any mothering he needed? That time been passed.
" He paused, his voice cooling into that quiet authority that always made her stomach twist. "So I suggest you fall the fuck in line, show some respect, and remember just who the fuck I am.
Shit could've been so simple, but you wanted to play independent, bring niggas into our business, and pretend you was bigger than the program.
"Now look at you. Begging. Pathetic. Anyway," he said, amusement returning to his voice, "in a week or so I'ma drop my pin.
You, and you only, gon' drive to that location.
If I get wind, you brought somebody, if I even see a shadow that don't belong to you, that visit gone before it start.
"You understand me?" Jackie's heart thudded.
“A visit?" she asked softly.
"Marcus... is it to see—" He cut her off, amusement curling into his voice.
"Don't worry 'bout what it is for. Just be there. "I like a bitch who can follow directions."
Her voice shook. "I just need to know... will my son be there?" He let out a low laugh.
"You'll find out when you show up." Her throat closed around the words she wanted to say.
"I understand." With that, the line went dead.
Jackie laid there frozen, the phone still pressed against her ear, her heart hammering, tears stinging the backs of her eyes.
She wanted to scream. Wanted to tell someone.
But Marcus had her where he always did. Trapped between her silence and her son.
She set the phone down like it might burn her, slid it beneath her pillow like a secret, and prayed, the words coming out small and raw.
"God, if You can hear me, wrap Your arms around my son. Keep him safe. Let him know his momma is trying. In Jesus' name I pray, amen."
The words fell into the quiet, swallowed by the dark.
And just like that, the house went still again.
Jackie laid there, eyes open, staring into nothing, her hand pressed flat against her chest like she could calm the pounding there.
The silence didn't feel peaceful. It felt heavy.
Like something she'd already survived once before.
Her throat tightened. Her fingers curled into the sheets.
And before she could stop it...her mind took her back.