CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
JACKIE
The truck didn’t feel like a truck…it felt like a tank.
The doors were thicker than anything she’d ever seen.
The windows looked black from the outside and barely transparent from the inside.
Radios crackled up front, followed by low conversations she couldn’t quite make out.
She sat in the rear seat with Max stretched across her lap, clutching his tablet, his Spider-Man pajamas wrinkled from the ride.
Every now and then he shifted against her lap, and Jackie tightened her hold without even realizing it.
She couldn’t stop thinking about breakfast. The way his little face had crumpled.
The tears. The absolute certainty in his voice when he’d said he’d seen Marcus.
His name alone made her stomach turn. How had she missed it?
How had she not known something was wrong?
A mother was supposed to always know. She replayed every pickup, every drop-off, every conversation, every hug, every smile, searching for anything she’d overlooked.
Some sign. Some clue. Anything. The guilt sat heavy in her chest. Worse than that was the thought she couldn’t shake.
MJ. Jackie knew Marcus like the back of her hand, and she knew he hadn’t shown up at that school for Max.
Not really. Marcus knew exactly what he was doing.
And if he’d taken MJ with him…Jackie squeezed her eyes shut. God, please protect my son.
Silence settled over the truck, heavy with the presence of armed men.
Professional killers. Men trained to spot danger before it appeared.
One sat on either side of her. Neither spoke much, nor looked nervous.
It was almost like transporting frightened women and children was just another Tuesday morning.
Jackie swallowed hard and looked back out the window.
The city disappeared first, then the traffic, then the neighborhoods.
Until eventually the truck rolled through a set of wrought-iron gates so large they looked like they belonged outside a government building.
Her eyes widened. “Where are we?” she murmured.
The estate stretched farther than she could see, stone walls, manicured grounds, security cameras, guard stations, and armed men were positioned strategically throughout the property.
The truck didn’t simply drive onto the grounds.
It stopped twice at separate checkpoints.
Each time guards approached, credentials were checked, and the gates opened only after verification.
By the time they reached the main house, Jackie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen this much security in one place outside of television.
The mansion itself looked less like a home and more like something important enough to be protected by its own army.
The truck finally came to a stop. One of the men beside her opened the door.
“We’re here, ma’am.” Jackie nodded. Her legs felt unsteady when she stepped out.
The cool morning air hit her immediately.
Max never stirred. She shifted him higher against her shoulder, grabbed her tote bag, and stepped onto the driveway.
The front doors opened before she could reach them.
Two people emerged, the first was Brother Amin—Jackie knew instantly who he was.
The older man was tall, distinguished and perfectly composed.
Beside him stood Sister Malika. Brother Amin approached first. “As-salamu alaikum.” Jackie blinked. The greeting caught her off guard.
“Wa alaikum as-salam,” she answered automatically. A warm smile touched his face.
“Welcome home.” The words nearly broke her. Not because of what he said.
But the weight his words carried.
Jackie had only met Brother Amin once at the gala, and even then he was kind and welcoming. He might’ve been the only one there who was. His eyes moved briefly to Max before returning to her.
“Are you hurt?” Jackie shook her head. “No, sir.”
“And Max?”
“He’s not hurt.”
“Good.”
The simple answer seemed to relax something in him.
Sister Malika crossed the distance next.
The woman Jackie knew rarely smiled. Today she looked genuinely concerned.
Her eyes immediately went to Max sleeping against Jackie’s shoulder.
For a moment she just looked at him before reaching up and rubbing a hand across his back.
“How is he?” Jackie looked down at her son, just as a lump formed in her throat.
She couldn’t answer. Didn’t trust her own voice.
So, she just shook her head instead. Something tightened in Sister Malika’s expression.
Then, completely out of character, she rested a hand on Jackie’s shoulder.
It wasn’t long, dramatic or too drawn out.
Still, Jackie could feel the sincerity in her touch.
“We got yall.” Jackie nodded. Because if she opened her mouth right now, she was going to cry.
Suddenly, a shadow appeared beside her. It was Cash’s younger brother, Jamil.
Jackie had never met him personally, but she recognized him from a few of Max’s games.
He had the same hazel-brown eyes as his brother, only he was darker and sported a low-cut fade.
He was tall and broad like Najee but had that same slim athletic build as Cash.
He wore a white thobe, a pair of jeans cut at the ankles, and some black-and-white low-top Golden Goose sneakers.
Jamil stepped forward. “Damn, little man knocked out.” Jackie instinctively tightened her grip and moved back damn near three feet.
Jamil immediately stopped and put both hands up.
“My fault, sis.” A grin tugged at his mouth.
“Young bull was looking a little heavy. I was just trying to lighten the load a lil bit.”
The embarrassment hit her instantly, she hadn’t even realized she’d done it.
But she wasn’t letting Max go to anybody.
At least right now. Jamil’s smile softened.
“Momma bear aint playing about her cub. I feel that.” Brother Amin nodded once.
“Jackie.” His voice was calm, steady, and certain.
“You’re safe now.” Jackie looked around at the checkpoints, the cameras, the armed guards, and the men positioned throughout the property.
Then back at Max sleeping against her shoulder.
For the first time all morning, she almost believed it.
Almost. Jackie adjusted Max higher on her shoulder and followed them inside.
Once the door closed, she stopped. The house was breathtaking.
Marble floors stretched beneath her feet.
Massive pieces of artwork lined the walls.
Sculptures sat beneath carefully positioned lighting.
Every room seemed to open into another room more impressive than the last. It looked less like a home and more like a private museum, or an embassy.
But before she could take it all in, a woman dressed in a tailored black uniform appeared.
“Welcome, Sister Jackie.” Jackie blinked.
The title caught her off guard. The woman smiled warmly, “if you’ll come with me.
” Within minutes she found herself being escorted down a hallway and into a guest suite larger than the apartment she currently occupied.
Another woman appeared with a basket. “We’ll take your shoes.
” Jackie slipped them off without argument.
Soft foot coverings immediately replaced them.
A second staff member entered carrying neatly folded garments, an abaya, a underdress, and a lightweight scarf.
“Only if you’re comfortable, Sister.” Jackie looked down at the clothing.
Then back at the woman. Jackie was Christian, but she was also aware of where she was, and the cultural expectations of the household.
So out of respect she changed into what the woman had given her.
Still, the wardobe change didn’t feel forced, or demanding.
If anything, they seemed determined to make sure she was comfortable.
“Thank you.” By then Max had started to stir.
His eyes blinked open slowly, and for a second confusion crossed his face.
Then he saw her and immediately relaxed.
Jackie kissed the top of his head. “I’m right here, baby.
” Max nodded and reached for his tablet without saying a word.
He had been silent since the reveal at breakfast and that may have hurt Jackie worse than the tears.
An hour later, Jackie and Max made their way downstairs.
The dining room table was packed with food—fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, steak, fish, pancakes, waffles, juices, coffee, and tea.
Enough to feed half of North Philly. Before she could take it all in, someone called her name.
“Jackie.” Relief hit her so hard her knees almost buckled.
“Syxe.” Syxe was already crossing the room with Sevynne balanced on her hip.
Jackie met her halfway, and without saying a word they hugged.
When they pulled apart, Syxe looked at Max.
“Hey, Fat Daddy.” Max gave a small wave from behind his tablet.
He wasn’t himself, but he was trying. Before either woman could speak, Micah and Imani came running.
The three kids quickly settled into a corner with their tablets like nothing had happened.
The sight almost made Jackie cry. Kids really were resilient.
Syxe shifted Sevynne higher on her hip. “Okay, somebody needs to tell me what the hell is going on.” Jackie told her everything, about Marcus, the school, MJ—never leaving out a single detail.
By the time she finished, Syxe didn’t say a word.
She just pulled Jackie into another tight hug.
That was all it took. The tears came instantly.
Jackie buried her face in Syxe’s shoulder and finally broke.
“What if he’s scared?” she whispered. “What if he thinks I don’t care?
” Syxe grabbed both sides of her face. “Stop. They’re gonna find him. ”
The certainty in Syxe’s voice sounded a lot like Brother Amin’s. God, she wanted to believe it, but right now she wasn’t so sure. Jackie was wiping her eyes when movement near the front of the house caught her attention. Several men entered at once. Her eyes immediately found Cash.
He looked exactly like himself, guarded, controlled, locked all the way in.
Their eyes met across the room. The moment stretched longer than it should have.
Then his jaw tightened and he looked away.
The front door opened again. This time Najee stepped inside.
Relief flooded through her. Before she could move, Max was already running.
“Mr. Najee!” Micah took off right behind him.
The two boys nearly collided with Najee at the same time.
It was then that some of the tension Najee had carried since Max broke the news finally left his face.
The softness returned briefly. He bent down and wrapped an arm around both of them.
“What’s up, fellas?” Max and Micah started talking over each other.
Najee listened anyway, like he always did.
The sight pulled a small smile from Jackie despite everything.
For a moment he looked less like a man coordinating security teams, and more like the man who quizzed spelling words on the way to school.
Then the softness vanished. Najee straightened and crossed the room.
He stopped beside Syxe first, then his eyes found Jackie.
His gaze moved slowly over the abaya and scarf.
Something shifted in his expression. “What?” she asked. A smile pulled at his mouth.
“Nothing.”
“Najee.” He stepped closer, close enough that only she could hear.
“You look beautiful.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks almost immediately before she rolled her eyes.
“Well, don’t get used to it.” His smile widened.
He pulled her into him, one arm around her waist, and pressed a kiss to her temple.
The tension she’d been carrying all day eased almost instantly.
Before they could say anything else, Cash’s voice cut across the room.
“Nah.” Najee looked up. Cash stood near the entrance of the study with Brother Amin and several other men.
The softness on Najee’s face disappeared.
The room suddenly felt heavier, and more focused.
Jackie followed his gaze toward the open study doors, maps, laptops, phones, and men moving with purpose filled the space.
It was then Jackie understood that this was no longer just about keeping them safe. This was the beginning of a manhunt.