19. Jahsir
jahsir
. . .
It was the last place I wanted to be, but at the same time, the only place that made sense.
Each year, Mulholland Falls pulls together the city’s most popular and most underrated restaurants, offering small bites of everything from jerk wings to truffle sliders.
It was the city’s largest food festival and a cultural main event.
The mayors and other city officials looked forward to a full-on takeover that showcased just how diverse and proud Mulholland’s food scene had become.
There was no way I could miss it. But I had to be careful.
The Taste came with thick crowds and police.
Everywhere, which is why this was the last place I should have been.
But I needed this day with my girls. Red had been busy grinding at her boutique, and I’d been locked in the studio, painting nonstop to prep the collection I’d bring back to Monaco.
We were overdue for family time, especially outside of the loft.
Crimson had us dressed like triplets in matching fits— green, white, and black everything.
Even the Nikes were synced. We took family day to another level.
Vendors lined the blocks displaying their best. Sha-Ray’s was there, near the east entrance, with the rest of the seafood. The scent of Old Bay, garlic butter, and sweet corn muddled together. But even with all of the seafood vendors being side by side, Sha-Ray’s stood out.
Across the way, Neise’s was grilling corn for elotes over an open flame, the smoky heat catching in my throat as the buttery corn hissed and popped.
Sweet chili oil clung to the air near the Asian fusion stands.
Some teens walked past us with a tray full of jerk chicken and plantains.
The strong spices of cloves, scotch bonnets, and garlic diverted us, causing us to turn and head in that direction.
It was fun chaos, memorable chaos. Kids weaved through the crowd with dripping snow cones, while their parents held giant turkey legs.
Someone was selling fresh-cut mango on a stick, dusted with Tajin.
Voices were heard in every direction, whether it was yelling or laughter.
It was enough to overstimulate anyone, which is why I kept a close eye on Crimson.
But she was actually fine. Looking over her shoulder had become a thing of the past, and if she was good, I was great.
Running into a familiar face was likely on the busiest days, which is why when we saw Ms. Ruby with some man, I wasn’t surprised. Crimson was kneeling next to the stroller, feeding Scarlett some Italian ice, when Ms. Ruby approached us.
“Look at my big girl! My goodness.”
Crimson looked up at me, rolling her eyes, then planted a smile on her face.
“She is big. Hey, Auntie Ruby.”
“Hey there, it’s been a while. You don’t call or come by to check on your aunt. You must still be mad.” She stated, reaching out to hug Crimson. Crimson obliged, returning the embrace.
“No, I’m cool. I’ve moved past a lot of things. I just choose where I give my energy to, family included.”
“You kids kill me these days.” Ms. Ruby shrugged. “Families argue, you don’t just cut someone off.”
“You also don’t allow them to continuously mistreat you. But Auntie Ruby, that is in the past. I hope you are okay because I am. There is no love lost.”
“Can I hold Scarlett?” She asked. I watched Crimson briefly hesitate, then she agreed. Ruby took Scarlett out of the stroller and held her close, continuing to gush over her adorable beauty. When she was done, she handed her to me.
“Jahsir.”
“Ms. Ruby,” I replied to her greeting, then she walked away.
There were no hard feelings with Ruby. That was Rashad’s mama, and I asked the questions I needed to ask.
I know she wondered if I ever said something to Crim, and I didn’t.
It wasn’t necessary because Crimson was good, financially and mentally.
She’d already made up in her mind to love her aunt from a distance. I didn’t need to add insult to injury.
“How you feeling about that?” I asked as Ruby disappeared into the crowd.
“Bae, I’m not thinking about my auntie. I’ve learned from Hadiya that our relatives pass trauma around because that’s all they know. It’s up to us to do something different. As long as I don’t repeat that same toxic behavior with Scarlett, then I won.”
“Word,” I added, kissing her on her forehead. After placing Scarlett back into the stroller, we were on our way.
We moved through the day, continuing to taste our favorite foods. The weather was beautiful, and as the day stretched on, the crowd got thicker, signaling us to be on our way out.
“Ooh! Kaye’s Kakes!” Crimson beamed as we headed toward the entrance. “I didn’t know they had a location in Mulholland Falls.”
“Me neither,” I added. “I thought she was only based out of Chicago. I wonder if she got some white chocolate chip peanut butter cookies.”
“Let’s check. And I want to get Scarlett’s birthday cake from there, so I’m hoping she has a business card.”
We headed over to the booth and spoke to the owner, Melanee.
She gave us samples of her banana pudding cups, strawberry crunch cups, chocolate-covered strawberries, and some cake pops.
We took our bundle of goodies to a shaded area with a bench.
Crimson moaned as the flavors danced around in her mouth.
The day had caught up to Scarlett, and she had finally passed out in her stroller.
Looking up, my demeanor changed. I saw Que heading toward us with some woman who wasn’t his wife, another dude, and another woman.
I assumed they were on a double date. Crimson looked up, and her mood shifted completely.
As he approached, I hoped he’d come correct.
I didn’t feel like laying this nigga out on family day.
What’s good, bro?” Que reached his hand out.
“What’s up?” I locked my hands together. It was insane how safe this nigga felt. I ain’t like that shit. He thought we was cool.
“I see lil mama sleeping, so I won’t bother her.”
“As if you could.” I chalked up. “What’s up, nigga? What you need?” I asked, frustrated at his intrusion on our day.
“I wanted to holla at you real quick,” Que replied.
“Me and Scarlett will meet you at the car, bae,” Crimson interjected, catching the attention of the friend.
“Where you going, beautiful?” he asked.
“Aye, nigga, don’t speak to my woman. Pay attention to the bitch on your arm. Fuck you talking to my girl for?” He bellowed.
“Just greeting the lady. It’s a problem?”
“Shit, it can be. Fuck you mean?” I stepped up to him.
“Hollon.” Que stepped between us. “I just wanted to holla at you real quick.”
“Later, I’m with my family,” I replied confidently, eliciting a smirk from Que.
And with that, I turned to walk away. I don’t know what the fuck he wanted, or why he thought I was on board with it, but I killed that shit real fast. I couldn’t stand that nigga, and I was just waiting to take his ass out.
What irked me as well was his disrespect and disregard for women.
I could have sworn he was married. Every time I saw that clown, he had a new bitch on his arm.
And they were all so clueless, thinking they hit the jackpot, when they were signing up to be part of his circus.
Furthermore, I didn’t like the effect he had on Crimson.
She didn’t say nothing the entire ride back.
A perfect day went down the drain because of his clown ass.
When we got back to the loft, I dropped my keys on the hardwood floor, and Crimson nearly jumped out of her skin as if she heard a gun go off.
“What’s wrong with you? You’ve been jittery since we left the Taste.”
“I think I just need a shower, I’m tired.” She lied as she took Scarlett out of the stroller and placed her on the couch.
“Talk to me, Red.”
“Que. The uh, the guy that was with him. I’m pretty sure he’s the one who robbed the bank.”
“What? Why do you think that?”
“It was the way he moved. I felt it as soon as they were approaching. And his…his voice.” She trembled, which told me everything I needed to know.
“It’s familiar, especially the way he said beautiful.
I’ll never forget that comment, or his tone.
It was menacing then, and to-today, when he spoke, it sent chills down my spine.
It was him, Jah. And if it was him, that means-”
“It was Que all along, just how I suspected.” I stood, grabbing my keys from the table until Crimson intervened.
“Jah, no. Where are you going?”
“A nigga gotta answer for that shit. You know I’m not letting that slide.” I responded, moving past her. Crimson was on my heels, following me upstairs. I sat on the edge of the bed and opened my drawer. I took the lock box out, retrieving my gun from it.
“A gun? Jah, stop.”
Her plea fell on deaf ears. I placed a kiss on her lips, then moved around her. “I’ll be back.”
I called in a few favors to alter the cameras outside the strip club.
Once they were manipulated, we parked beside Que’s car, waiting for him to show up.
It would only be a matter of time before he came out.
The only thing that would deter us is if he had one of the dancers with him.
I hated asking God for favors to do some dirty shit, but I prayed hard this time.
I needed that nigga to be solo; that was the only way this would go right.
“You know I don’t need you for this, Rashad. If shit goes left, we both can end up locked up. You just did a bid-”
“And I’ll do that shit again behind my cousin, man. Is she sure?”
“Even if her mind was playing tricks on her, her body said otherwise. It was them niggas. I trust her with my whole heart.”
“Then it is what it is. There that nigga go.” Rashad announced.
Que approached his car while me and Rashad hopped out of the car and rushed him, covering his mouth and dragging him into the nearby forest. I always thought this club was in a weird spot, especially with all these women around.
Anybody could be lurking to snatch them up if they were caught lacking.
Rashad held him in a tight grip. I looked him in his eyes.
“If you tell the truth, I might let you live. Did you hit Crimson’s bank?”
“Man, we back to that?”
“You’s a sloppy nigga. And that bitch ass nigga you had with you earlier gave y’all away. You want it slow or quick?”
“Come on, man, please, please!”
“Is this nigga pissing on his self?” Rashad asked. We both looked down Que’s leg and saw a stream of yellow liquid dripping down his legs and yellowing up his white shorts. “Bro, do this shit. If he gets piss on my Mikes, I’mma beat his ass.”
I retrieved the plastic bag from the front pocket of my hoodie. It held a hefty amount of chili powder, cayenne pepper, and ashes. Que’s eyes went wide when he saw the bag. He went into full-blown bitch mode.
“Jahsir, please! PLEASE MAN! I got kids.”
“Nigga fuck yo kids. You better hope I don’t murk they ass, too.
” And with that, I placed the bag over his head and taped it tightly.
I knew the shit was brutal. I was sure his throat was burning and his eyes were stinging.
Rashad held him firmly while his body convulsed and he gasped for air.
All we heard were muffled screams as Que’s body thrashed back and forth while he sucked in his own heat. Soon after…
He stopped thrashing…
stopped fighting…
stopped breathing.
We let his body drop, and it rolled down the hill.
He’d be discovered in the next few days, but we weren’t worried.
We wore shoes larger than our normal size and shoe covers.
We even cut the bag off his face, and took a few pieces of jewelry and his wallet.
It will look like a robbery gone wrong. It was quick, clean, and over.
Untraceable
Back in the car, we rode in silence until Rashad broke it.
“Aye, bro, you’d really kill that nigga kids?”
I burst out in laughter. “Man, hell naw, I just wanted those words to haunt his ass. I hope the thought plays in his snake ass mind over and over while he burning in hell. And shit, even then, he still may not give a fuck.