CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
NAJEE
The smell of onions and peppers woke him up before his alarm did.
Najee opened one eye and smiled. Jackie was cooking.
And not the usual weekday scramble she threw together before school and work.
This was a full-blown production, and Najee could smell it.
He could hear the scrape of the spatula against the cast iron, as music played low from Jackies portable Bose speaker.
He lay there a moment longer, just listening.
Then he rolled over and reached for her side of the bed.
It was cold. She’d been up awhile. By the time he made it downstairs, Jackie had completely taken over the kitchen.
Turkey scrapple. Scrambled eggs. Home fries loaded with onions, Jalapeno peppers, and cheese.
French toast—the good kind made with challah bread that took entirely too much effort for a random Friday morning.
“Damn,” he said, stopping at the island.
“What we celebrating?” Jackie didn’t even look up from the stove.
“Negro, please don’t act like I don’t feed y’all asses.”
“I’m just saying,” he replied, stepping behind her and pulling her close as she playfully tried to twist away.
He planted soft kisses along her neck. A low moan slipped from Jackie’s throat before she could catch it.
Najee felt her body soften against him, that familiar shiver running through her thick frame.
His dick twitched in his sweats, already starting to thicken just from the warmth of her ass pressed back into him.
Jackie smelled like brown sugar and pistachio. Something that was uniquely her.
It was taking everything in him not to put her over his shoulder and carry her ass back to bed.
“Damn,” he muttered against her skin. “Ewww.” Both of them looked toward the kitchen table.
Max sat there with his tablet, looking thoroughly disgusted.
“Y’all nasty.” Najee laughed. Jackie rolled her eyes.
“You got five more minutes with that thing, then go get your spelling words. Najee instructed. “I’m quizzing you on the ride to school.” Max dropped his head back dramatically.
“Aww man. Not another quiz.”
“It’s Friday.”
“And?”
“I’m tired of quizzes.” Najee gave him a look.
Max immediately went back to pretending to read whatever was on the screen.
Three minutes later Jackie walked over, took both devices, and dropped them into a woven basket on the counter.
“Y’all got twenty-three hours a day to stare at screens.
Y’all can survive a device-free breakfast.” Max slumped even harder.
Najee wasn’t much better, “Bae, I need that for work.” Jackie ignored them both.
Three minutes later she set plates down, and suddenly neither one of them had shit else to say.
Jackie set her mug on the table and looked across at Max.
“Alright, baby. How was your week? Let me know if I’m walking into any surprises when I open this lady’s email this morning.” Max shrugged. “I been good.”
“Just good?” she asked, playful. He nodded around a mouthful of French toast. Jackie smiled. “Well, I’m picking you up today. So if you were as good as you say, maybe we can grab ice cream after school.” His reaction was immediate. “No.” The table went quiet. Jackie blinked. “No?”
“I don’t want you to pick me up.” This time he didn’t even look up from his plate.
Jackie frowned, trying to laugh it off. “Well damn. Tell me how you really feel.”
“Mommy, I’m serious. I don’t want you picking me up.”
His voice came out sharper. Najee looked up from his plate.
Jackie looked more hurt than anything. “Okay…” she said slowly.
“Then who do you want to pick you up?”
“Mr. Najee.” The answer hit Najee square in the chest.
Jackie stared at Max, then back at Najee. “Why?”
“I just do.”
“No, baby. Tell me why.”
Max went completely quiet, pushing his eggs around the plate, withdrawn.
Najee had spent enough years working with kids to recognize avoidance.
Something was wrong. Jackie saw it too. The humor drained from her face.
“Maximus.” Nothing. “Fat Daddy.” Still nothing.
Najee set his fork down. “Hey champ,” Najee said as he reached across the table and laid his hand on Max’s.
Max finally looked up. “Why don’t you want your mom picking you up?
” Max dropped his gaze again. His little shoulders shrugged as the silence stretched.
Then the tears came—one rolling down his cheek, then another.
Jackie was out of her chair in a heartbeat.
“Baby?” Her voice cracked. “Oh my God, what’s wrong?
” She dropped beside him and pulled him into her lap.
“Look at me.” Max shook his head. “You’re not in trouble, I promise.
” More tears from his eyes. “Baby, you’re scaring me.
” Najee stayed quiet, watching, waiting.
Whatever this was had been weighing on him for a while.
Finally, Max looked up. Eyes red, wet, terrified. “Mommy… I saw the monster.”
The room went dead still. Najee frowned and glanced at Jackie. The color had drained from her face. Not confusion—pure fear. “Are you sure?” she asked quietly. Max nodded.
Jackie swallowed hard. “Where?”
“My school.” Now Najee sat forward. “What monster?” Neither answered him.
Their eyes stayed locked on each other. “Was he in the schoolyard?” Jackie pressed. Max shook his head. “No. He was outside the fence.” Every hair on the back of Najee’s neck stood up.
“Outside the fence doing what?” Jackie questioned. “Just staring.”
Jackie covered her mouth. Max wiped at his eyes.
“He be there during recess. And sometimes in the morning.”
Najee’s pulse climbed. “Jackie, who the fuck is the monster?”
Still no answer. Max sniffled.
“Yesterday he called me over.” Jackie’s eyes widened.
“He told me to come here.” Now she was crying too.
“What happened next, baby?” Max looked down at his hands.
“I started walking over there.” Jackie pulled him tighter. “Then what?”
“I saw MJ.” That snapped Najee’s full attention. Jackie froze.
“You saw your brother?” Max nodded. “He told me to run.”
“They was in a black van. Like the kind Uncle Monty got.”
“So he was in a Sprinter,” Najee said aloud.
Najee was already reaching for his phone when the pieces slammed together. But first he needed the answer to one question. He looked directly at Jackie, voice low, controlled, and dangerously calm. “Jackie.” She wiped tears from her face.
“Who the fuck is the monster?” Jackie closed her eyes.
When she opened them, the fear was raw and naked. “Marcus.”
For a second nobody moved. The only sound was Max crying softly against Jackies chest. Najee moved first. He stood, crossed the kitchen in three strides, and grabbed his phone. “How long has he been seeing him?” Max answered before she could. “Every day this week.”
The words landed like a punch.
Najee’s jaw tightened. “Every day?” Max nodded. Fuck.
Najee ran a hand over his beard and dialed his aunt. She picked up on the second ring. “Nigel?”
“I need you to listen carefully.” Her tone shifted instantly. “What’s wrong?”
“I need the school on lockdown right now.” Jackie looked up sharply. “Najee—”
“No.” His eyes stayed on Max. “If Marcus has been posted outside that school watching him all week, we’re already behind.” The line went quiet. Then his aunt spoke. “Explain.”
Najee walked into the bedroom, phone to his ear, laying it all out.
When he finally finished explaining what Max had disclosed, his aunt wasn’t speaking anymore. She was moving. He could hear doors opening and closing. People being called. Instructions being given.
“I’m adding your uncle.” A second later Uncle Amin joined the call.
Najee brought him up to speed. The silence that followed felt heavier than any response.
“Amin, you there? Brother Hammed is pulling the footage now. Should we alert the parents? Close the school?” his aunt asked, voice tight with urgency.
Finally, his uncle spoke. “No—don’t cancel school.
Just tell the parents we’re on a two-hour delay.
” Najee leaned against the dresser. “I’m deploying my best men as we speak.
They’re going to sweep the perimeter and pull every camera angle around that school. ”
“And my family?” Najee asked. “I’m sending a security detail.” Najee nodded.
“I want Jackie and Max with us, in Abbington.”
“Done.”
“As for you, proceed with your day.” Najee frowned.
“You can’t be serious?”
“Oh, but I am.” His uncle didn’t sound concerned.
He sounded angry. “If Marcus believes nobody sees him, we’re going to let him keep believing that.
” Najee understood immediately. They didn’t want Marcus running, they wanted him comfortable and traceable.
His uncle let the silence linger for a moment.
“I trust you’ll bring Cassius up to speed in person.”
“Of course.” Najee agreed.
“After that, we reconvene in Abington.” Najee nodded.
“I’ll alert the necessary parties,” his uncle continued. “And I’ll call Malik.” Najee went still.
He hadn’t heard his father’s name in months. Hadn’t spoken to him in even longer. His uncle must have heard the shift in his breathing. “I know you don’t want him involved. Najee said nothing. “But this is bigger than you, son.” The words landed harder than he expected.
“Your father is resourceful, he can pull traffic cameras, toll records, city surveillance, red-light footage, private security feeds.” Najee closed his eyes.
Because of course he could. There wasn’t much that happened in Philadelphia that Malik Amin-Rashid couldn’t find if he decided it was worth finding.
“Between Malik and the brothers, we’ll find him,” his uncle said.
The certainty in his voice was absolute.
“Don’t worry son.” A pause. Then, he spoke again.
“He’s not leaving this city alive.”