Chapter 7
I was a light sleeper, but not always. For most of my life, I slept like the dead.
Then I got with Teagan, and for some reason, her asthma liked to get active during the overnight hours.
That was how I heard the sound—the creaking of the floorboards and what sounded like talking a few levels louder than whispering.
Since Eastley and I were the only people in the house, I knew it was her. I just didn’t know what was going on.
I tossed back the covers and got out of bed. I grabbed my basketball shorts and pulled them on my naked lower body. Then I eased my feet into my slides and padded down the hall.
Her bedroom door was closed, and it kinda sounded like she was praying.
Once I realized that she wasn’t in any danger, my heart rate began to slow.
I hadn’t even realized that it picked up, but once it slowed, I knew what it was.
It was a trauma response from all the times I woke up from a dead sleep and needed to be on go for Teagan, for asthma related emergencies.
I leaned against the wall outside of her room and listened. Once my heart wasn’t thundering in my ears, I could make out what she was saying.
I’m safe in Sweet Jackson.
I’m safe with Quentin.
How I feel is understandable.
I’ve been through a lot.
I’m on the path to healing.
I’m safe with Quentin.
My ego puffed up a little at the thought that she felt safe with me. Women typically felt safe with me, especially in my role as a self-defense instructor. Still, it was cool to hear Eastley say that she felt safe with me.
Teagan felt safe with me. She trusted me to protect her and to take care of her.
Sometimes when I let the wrong thoughts take root in my head, I blamed myself for not being there when she needed me the most. Logically, I knew it wasn’t my fault.
Teagan had a fatal asthma attack. It could’ve happened at any time.
My father told me over and over that it was God’s grace that had me out on the road that day.
He believed that being there with Teagan, watching her lose consciousness, would’ve fucked me up even worse.
I wasn’t there, so I couldn’t call it. I made it to the hospital in time to hold her—cradle her in my arms while she left.
All I could do was hold on to the truths that I did know.
My wife was loved. I loved her, had since the day I met her, and would until the day I left the Earth.
She never doubted my love. She loved me as fiercely as I loved her.
She never would’ve blamed me for what happened.
I slid down the wall, until I was seated on the floor.
I blew out a deep breath, then I bowed my head and began to pray.
I prayed for both Eastley and for myself.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there praying—saying words that I didn’t plan or expect to say.
All I knew was that when I finally said “Amen” and looked up, she was standing in the open doorway.
“What are you doing out here?”
“I heard you walking . . . and talking. I wasn’t sure if you were talking to God or what. I didn’t want to interrupt. I sat out here in case . . . you needed me.”
“And you prayed? I heard you say amen.”
“And I prayed.”
Her eyes ballooned. “You prayed for me?”
“For you. Over you.” I shrugged my shoulders as I stood from the floor to my full height. She caught me off guard when she wrapped her arms around my waist in a hug.
“Thank you.” Her head rested against my chest.
After a few seconds, I wrapped my arms around her too. “You have a nightmare?”
“How’d you know?”
“I told you that when KD told me what you went through at the hospital, I did some research. It’s not unusual for trauma survivors to have nightmares.”
“Do you have nightmares?”
It took me a minute to decide whether or not to be honest with her. I decided to tell the truth.
“Not as much anymore. When I first lost Teagan? All the time. The same one over and over. Thought I was gonna lose my fucking mind.” I huffed out a deep breath.
“People wanna know, brothers wanna know how I got so . . . intertwined with God. Shit. I had to attach myself to God, or I wasn’t gonna make it.
There was no way I could’ve ever survived losing Tea if I didn’t cling to God like a motherfucker.
” I patted her back a few times before breaking the embrace.
Holding her soft body against mine was a recipe for disaster.
I wasn’t sure how she would react if I bricked up while we were hugging.
I wasn’t sure how to react to the idea that that was even a possibility.
I didn’t know what it was about Eastley that made my mans want to come alive when he was dead for every other woman.
“I haven’t had a nightmare since I’ve been here. I’ve slept good every night for the last week or so. I’ve been thanking God, because lack of sleep was taking a toll. But I think it’s from the anxiety I feel about tomorrow.”
The next day was the Braveheart Juneteenth/Father’s Day Barbecue.
It wasn’t open to the public or anything.
Just the brothers, their families, and invited guests.
Still, it was always a large event. It was too big to hold it on the grounds of the clubhouse, so it would be at a local park.
We couldn’t control who showed up. I understood why Eastley had anxiety about it.
“You still thinking about going?” I questioned.
“It’s always been my favorite Braveheart event. I’ve missed it for the last seven or eight years.”
I grinned at her. “Exactly, so missing it again shouldn’t be a hardship.”
She whacked me on the forearm with her open hand. “Shut up. I’m here. I’m home. I’m not trying to miss it this year. I plan to be there. Anxiety be damned.”
I nodded my head in acceptance of her decision. “If that’s what you wanna do.”
She pouted. “I was forced to endure kickbacks every weekend at Kobey and Asia’s. I should be able to attend an event I wanna attend.”
“Nobody’s arguing with you but yourself,” I teased.
She rolled her eyes and gave me a grin. “Shut up.” She gave me another hug. Her body melted into mine, and for however long she stayed pressed up against me, I didn’t think about Teagan at all.
Eastley and I arrived at Legacy Park about an hour and a half into the festivities.
The park was packed with families and groups, all out celebrating the holiday.
I felt the tension start to roll off of her as soon as she spotted the crowd.
It was funny to me how fast I was able to learn her.
I could literally see her start to sink inside herself.
“E,” I started as I pulled my truck into a parking space next to the bikes of the brothers who’d already arrived.
She shook me off. “Don’t say it, Q. I know I don’t have to be here. I know. I’m just trying to get . . .” She sighed. “I don’t know. Some version of normalcy back. This is a normal thing to do . . . support my brother at his friends and family event. Support the club.”
“If it gets to be too much.”
She nodded. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll text you, and we can leave.”
It was my turn to nod. I turned off the pick-up.
Before I could get out, she caught my hand in hers. When I turned to look at her, our eyes met. “Stay close.” Her voice trembled the tiniest bit.
“I got you,” I confirmed with another nod of my head. “I’ll keep an eye out for you. And if I feel like it’s too much, even if you don’t say it, we’re out.”
“Okay.” She agreed.
KD and Asia were holding court at one of the tables under one of our oversized Braveheart Brotherhood Inc. customized tents. We both headed straight for them. I watched discreetly as she moved between the people and took a seat close to Asia.
The conversation carried on around me. I didn’t really notice.
My attention, behind my shades, was pretty much on Eastley.
She looked simultaneously delicate and fashionable in the outfit she wore—a cropped graphic T-shirt, paired with a pair of shorts that were too fucking short if she wanted my opinion.
I mean, almost all the women in attendance were dressed similarly, but I couldn’t help wishing that Eastley had worn a jogging suit or one of those sundresses that went to the floor.
“I can’t really tell East’s little ass nothing, but I ain’t want her to come today.”
I tuned back in just in time to hear KD talking to me. “Yeah, me neither. But you’re right; she won’t listen.”
He chuckled. “You talked to her about it?”
I decided not to tell him about the fact that she had a nightmare the night before.
That would just work him up for no reason.
“When we pulled up and she saw all the people, I told her we ain’t have to stay.
But she said this is her favorite Braveheart event.
She said she wasn’t missing it.” I shrugged my shoulders.
He nodded. “Yeah—” He was cut off by the revving of motorcycle engines, loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the music our DJ was playing.
I looked up to see the members of The Lewd Boyz, a local motorcycle club whose history was rooted in bigotry and white supremacy. As they rode through the park, revving their engines and flying their confederate flags, it was clear they were only present to disrupt the Juneteenth celebrations.
KD’s eyes stayed on the white boys. My eyes swung over to Eastley. Even though we were both wearing shades, I knew she was staring back at me. I mouthed the words “You cool?”
She nodded slightly.
Soon enough, the bikers moved on, our DJ turned up the volume, and our celebration continued.