Chapter 8 Kashmere Charm #2
I didn’t answer. I just stared at her. She sighed, shaking her head. “You out here trying to blow your brains out on a beach this beautiful? That’s crazy.”
I looked down at the gun, then back up at her. “You here to set me up?”
She frowned. “Set you up? Girl, what are you talking about?”
I studied her face for any sign of a lie. She looked confused but honest. Still, my hands were shaking too much to tell what was real. “You don’t know me,” I said.
“You right,” she said softly. “But I can see you hurting, and I’on like that.”
I didn’t respond because I didn’t trust her ass, and I damn sure didn’t trust how calm she was.
“My name’s Nooré,” she said after a while, her voice easy and warm. “I’m meeting some friends out here, and I came early to set up. I saw you sitting here crying and then I saw the gun, and I just couldn’t walk past that.”
I stayed quiet, watching her.
She looked around, then back at me. “Is somebody trying to hurt you?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
She raised her eyebrows like she didn’t believe it.
“You don’t look fine. Listen, black woman to black woman, I don’t like seeing one of us break like this.
Life get hard, I know it do, but whatever you going through, it ain’t worth dying over.
Not out here, and not when the world already trying to take us out. ”
Her words hit me harder than I expected, but I didn’t say nothing. She walked closer but slow, like she didn’t want to scare me. “Come over here,” she said, pointing toward the area she had set up.
I hesitated, but she smiled. “I ain’t crazy, girl. I just got some food, drinks, some weed and some music. If you gon’ be out here feeling like this, at least sit with somebody who understands.”
I looked out at the waves again. What did I have to lose? My life already felt done. I stood up, put the gun in my hoodie pocket and followed her.
Nooré had a whole vibe going on. There was a blanket laid out on the sand with candles glowing around it, a small speaker playing soft R&B, and a tray of fruit, weed, bottles, and cups.
Everything looked warm and inviting, like something off a postcard.
She moved around like she’d done this a hundred times, pouring drinks and fixing the setup before the sun disappeared completely.
“You smoke?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Good,” she said with a light laugh, lighting a blunt. “You need to hit this a few times and calm your mind before you do something dumb.”
She passed it to me, and I actually took it, trusting that everything would be okay. The smoke filled my lungs, and I coughed a little, but it relaxed me. I sat down beside her, staring at the candles. She poured two cups of liquor, added some lemonade and handed me one.
“I don’t know what you been through,” she said, “but I promise it’s temporary. Nothing stays the same forever.”
I took a sip, the burn steadying my nerves. “You don’t even know me,” I said.
“I don’t have to,” she replied. “Pain look the same on everybody.”
We sat like that for a while, passing the blunt, drinking, and listening to the waves.
She talked about random stuff, the island, her friends and how peaceful Halo Key was.
I didn’t say much, but I listened. It felt strange being around someone who wasn’t asking for nothing or expecting me to perform.
After a few minutes, two women walked up laughing and calling her name. One was tall with light brown skin and braids down her back, and the other had short curly hair with honey highlights. They looked like they belonged on a magazine cover.
“This is Soléa and Tirrah,” Nooré said, waving them over. “This is…” She looked at me, waiting for my name.
“Jayla,” I lied without thinking.
“Nice to meet you, Jayla,” Soléa said with a smile as she sat down and grabbed a cup.
Tirrah nodded, pulling out another blunt. “You from here?” she asked.
I hesitated, then shook my head. “No, I’m from… umm… Verris Heights. I came out here to clear my head.”
“What happened?” Nooré asked, her tone still gentle.
“My husband got murdered,” I said, the lie rolling out smooth. “It’s been hard dealing with it, so I came here to get away.”
All three of the girls got quiet for a second. Nooré reached over and touched my hand lightly. “I’m sorry, girl. That’s so heavy.”
I nodded, keeping my eyes low.
“Before we leave, let’s exchange numbers,” she said. “If you ever need something, anything, you call me. I mean that.”
I nodded again, even though I knew I wasn’t calling nobody.
The night kept moving, and the drinks kept coming.
I was starting to feel lighter, not happy, but less hollow.
The music played low while the waves crashed just far enough to sound like rhythm.
I caught myself almost smiling when they started joking about something one of their friends did last week.
That’s when two men appeared, walking toward us from down the beach.
One was short with locs that brushed his shoulders.
He was wearing a tank and shorts. The other one made everything else fade for a second.
He was tall and chocolate with a low tapered fade with thick waves, a beard that fit his face perfectly, and tattoos running down both arms. He had a clean white shirt that clung to his chest and the kind of smile that made my stomach flip.
To say he was sexy, would be an understatement.
I tried not to look, but my eyes kept finding him. Nooré stood up and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him like she’d been waiting to see him all night.
“Jayla, this my fiancé,” she said when they walked back over. “Lyrick, this is Jayla.”
He reached his hand out, and I shook it. His grip was firm, his skin warm, and I caught a faint trace of cologne that reminded me of something Pressure used to wear. I nodded and let go quick.
“You good?” he asked, his voice deep and calm.
“I’m straight,” I replied.
As the night went on, we all sat together drinking, laughing, and passing blunts around. I didn’t say much, but every time Lyrick laughed or leaned back, I noticed. There was something about him that pulled me in. Maybe it was how real he seemed, or maybe it was just the way he carried himself.
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was hiding.
These people didn’t know who I was or what I’d done.
They didn’t see a female who shot her fiancé or someone running from a family powerful enough to erase her.
They saw a stranger who happened to stumble onto their beach, and that was enough.
As the night faded and the drinks settled in, I caught myself thinking that maybe this place wasn’t just a hiding spot. Maybe it could be the start of something else. I looked at the waves again, then at Lyrick, and felt something I couldn’t even bring myself to admit.