CHAPTER NINETEEN
JACKIE
The lock clicked and Jackie just stood there.
Back pressed against the door, eyes closed, as the echo of his voice lingered in her chest.
Come lock this door behind me. Even the way he said it, steady and certain, was doing something to her.
Something she didn’t want to unpack. She exhaled slowly, her head tipping back against the wood.
The faint scent of him still clung to her.
Clean. Warm. Expensive. It melted into her skin like it belonged there.
“Girl, don’t tell me therapist bae got you over there blushing. ”
Jackie’s eyes flew open. Kormia was sprawled across the couch, bonnet half-on, plate of lo mein in hand, grinning like she’d just caught her in the act.
“Ain’t nobody blushing,” Jackie said, pushing off the door.
“Girl, bye.” Kormia leaned against the arm of the couch, fork pointed like an accusation.
“You look like that man just kissed you on the porch before headin’ off to war.”
“Shut up,” Jackie said, laughing despite herself. “I’m serious!” Kormia cackled, slapping her knee. “You standin’ there with your back to the door like he just confessed his love or something.”
Jackie rolled her eyes, brushing past her to clear the table. “You so fucking messy.”
“Look, I ain’t mad at it,” Kormia said, throwing her hands in the air, smirking.
“That man was fine as hell, and he was on your body.”
“He was not,” Jackie said quickly, trying not to smile.
“What y’all was doin’ in here anyway?” Kormia pressed, eyes scanning the half-eaten takeout, the flickering candles, and the two pillows on the floor.
“I ain’t know guidance counselors made house calls after the kids’ bedtime.”
Jackie shot her a sharp look over her shoulder. “He’s not a guidance counselor.”
“Mmhmm.” Kormia dragged her fork through the noodles, unbothered. “Well, whatever he is, y’all had ambiance. Candles lit. Music playin.’ Looked real grown and sexy in here.”
Jackie turned back to the sink, stacking the containers a little too carefully. “We ate dinner. Talked. Waited for his cobbler to finish. That’s all,” she said, trying her hardest to sound casual.
“Uh-huh.” Kormia narrowed her eyes. “You can minimize it all you want, but energy don’t lie. And I know what I felt when I walked in.” Jackie glanced over, one brow raised.
“And what was that, Miss Vibration Specialist?” Kormia grinned, fork midair.
“Attraction. And that shit was thick enough to chew.” Jackie froze for half a beat, then shook her head.
“Well, I hate to break up whatever fantasy you’re creating in your head, but you’re wrong.
” Her voice was calm, but the stiffness in her shoulders said otherwise.
“What you saw was two adults sharing a meal. Platonically. Nothing more.” She rinsed a plate, jaw tightening.
“Not to mention, that’s Max’s therapist.”
“Oop, not the ethical boundary defense,” Kormia teased.
“Let me find out, you gave this some thought, huh?”
“Even if I wanted to,” Jackie said, wiping down the counter and flicking off the light, “I wouldn’t.” She started past her cousin toward the stairs. “But you do want to, though,” Kormia said, grinning without looking up from her plate. Jackie turned and threw a pillow at her, laughing.
“Good night, clown.”
“Good night, lover girl,” Kormia teased through a mouthful of noodles.
Jackie shook her head, but the smile that broke across her face was soft and real.
She climbed the stairs slowly, still catching faint traces of his cologne in the air.
The scent followed her all the way to her bedroom, curling into her sheets like memory and temptation, until finally she exhaled, allowed herself to smile again, and called it a night.
Jackie’s phone buzzed against the nightstand, sharp and jarring in the quiet. She blinked hard, trying to focus on the glowing numbers on the dresser clock that read 3:18 a.m.
Her stomach dropped. Only one person called at hours like this. She hesitated just long enough for dread to settle in her chest, then swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“Wake the fuck up.” Marcus’s voice came through the phone, low, cold and clipped.
Jackies skin prickled before her brain caught up.
“I’m up,” Jackie said quickly, sitting up, the sheet clutched in her fist. “Good.” Silence stretched on the line, thick and weighted.
She could hear him breathing, steady and slow, like someone completely in control.
That was the part that scared her most when he sounded calm.
Then came the faint click, followed by a text notification. “I’m sending you the location.”
Another pause. “You got till six a.m. to get there.” Her breath hitched. “Marcus—”
“Clock starts now.” And just that fast the line went dead.
Jackie stared at the phone, the quiet in the room pressing in on her like weight.
Then came another buzz. One text. No address.
Just a pin drop. Her fingers trembled as she clicked it open.
Somewhere off I-95 South. Two and a half hours away.
Jackie’s chest constricted, but she didn’t hesitate.
Not once. She threw back the covers and pulled on clothes.
She’d learned a long time ago that asking why only made things worse.
Marcus held all the cards. And more importantly, Marcus had her son.
And if he said come, she came. She grabbed a hoodie from the chair, keys from the dresser, and her bag from the floor.
Her movements were quiet, automatic, but still efficient.
Fear didn’t make her sloppy. It made her focused.
She was halfway down the hall when she heard it.
“Mommy?” Jackie froze. Max stood in the soft light spilling from the bathroom, eyes squinting against the dark.
He looked so small. Barefoot, curls messy, pajama pants twisted at the ankle.
“Hey, baby,” she whispered, forcing a calm she didn’t feel. “What you doin’ up?”
“I had to pee.” He rubbed his eyes. “Where you goin’?” Her throat tightened.
“I just gotta handle something, okay? Grown-up stuff.”
He frowned, stepping closer. “Can I come?”
“No, baby.” She knelt, brushing a hand over his cheek.
“You stay here with Auntie Kormia. I’ll be back before you wake up.”
“You promise?” Jackie nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah baby,” she whispered. “I promise.”
He stared at her for a second, like he could tell something wasn’t right.
Then his shoulders dropped. “Okay.” She walked him back to his room and tucked him in.
“Mommy,” he murmured, half-asleep now.
“Today’s MJ’s birthday.” Her heart cracked open. “I know, baby.”
“Auntie Syxe gave me some money to put on his birthday table,” he said, his voice drifting.
Jackie smiled faintly through the ache in her chest. “That’s real sweet.”
“I wish I could tell him happy birthday,” he yawned, eyes fluttering closed.
“Maybe next year.” He sounded so hopeful it nearly broke her.
“Maybe,” she whispered, biting her lip as the tears threatened to spill.
She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple.
“I love you,” she whispered against his hair.
Max mumbled something soft in reply, already slipping back into dreams.
Jackie lingered there, her hand on his back, tracing small circles as she whispered a prayer. One she didn’t have the words for, but a plea, nonetheless. A travel mercy. Asking God to keep her safe and bring her back home. Jackie turned off the light, kissed Max again, and went to wake Kormia.
Her bare feet were soundless against the floor as she moved down the stairs. The street outside was pitch black, so quiet she hear the sound of the breeze pressing against the windows. She headed straight for the couch. “Mia,” she whispered, shaking her cousin’s shoulder. “Wake up.”
Kormia stirred, mumbling, half-asleep. “Jackie? What the hell—”
“I need you to stay with Max,” Jackie said quickly, pulling on her sneakers. That woke Kormia all the way up. She sat upright, bonnet askew, blinking through the dark. “Why? Where you goin’? It’s damn near four in the morning.” Jackie hesitated just long enough for Kormia’s expression to change.
“Jackie,” she said, voice rising. “No. Please don’t tell me you—”
“He called,” Jackie said quietly. The air shifted.
Kormia’s face fell, anger and fear fighting for space.
“You can’t be serious.” Jackie didn’t answer.
She was already zipping her hoodie up, slipping her phone into her pocket, movements damn near mechanical.
“Jackie!” Kormia stood now, voice cracking.
“No. You can’t go meet that nigga by yourself. What if it’s a setup? What if he—”
“I don’t have a choice,” Jackie cut in, steady but soft. “He sent a location. You know what that means.” Kormia’s eyes glassed over. “And what if you don’t come back?”
Jackie’s throat worked around a tight swallow. “I will.”
“You don’t know that,” Kormia snapped, stepping in front of her.
“I’m comin’ with you.”
“No.” Jackie shook her head hard.
“You stay here with Max. Please. He can’t wake up to an empty house.”
Tears welled in Kormia’s eyes.
“You asking me to sit here while you walk into something blind?”
“I’m asking you to protect my baby in case I don’t—”
The words hit them both at once, heavy and real.
The silence stretched. Then Kormia exhaled, shaking her head.
“Nah. I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I,” Jackie whispered. “But MJ’s out there, and if this is the only way to see him again, I’m going.” Kormia bit her lip, pacing for a second before stopping. Then she dug into her purse, pulled out her keys, and pressed them into Jackie’s hand. “Take my car.”
“Mia—”
“No,” Kormia said firmly.
“Take it. If something go down, mine’s newer. The GPS works. It’s faster.”
“Kormia, I can’t—”
“You will.” Her voice trembled now, but her stare didn’t.
“You want me to stay here with Max, fine. I’ll do that. But you takin’ my damn car.”
Jackie looked at her, really looked at her and for the first time she saw it.
The fear. The love. The loyalty that had been there since childhood, through every ugly chapter.
Standing in front of her scared and still choosing to help her go anyway.
Finally, she nodded, slipping Kormia’s keys into her hoodie pocket.
Then she reached into her bag and pulled out her own.
“Here,” she said, handing them over. “In case.” Kormia took them, her hands shaking.
“You better call me when you get there. And when you leave. You hear me?” Jackie nodded. “I hear you. She turned for the door.
“Jackie.” She paused. Kormia’s voice broke.
“Please come home.” Jackie’s heart ached, but she forced a small smile.
“That’s the plan.” Then she opened the door, stepped into the dark, and didn’t look back.