Noles
I stared at the chart on my phone longer than I realized.
Different symbols flashin in the calendar on the app tellin me when her body was supposed to be most fertile and give us what we wanted.
I didn't know when I started trusting apps over instinct, but here I was tracking cycles like a nigga who was on the hunt.
Like time hadn't already proven it didn't promise shit.
I rubbed my thumb across the screen, jaw tight. Ayida wanted this. I wanted this. That part was real. But the other part of me, the part that crawled back from death angry and mean, didn't like waiting on anything.
Especially not fate.
Especially not bodies.
Especially not bloodlines.
Especially not curses I didn't believe in but still felt hovering over us like smoke you couldn't wave away. I typed the text before I could overthink it.
We miss you. ??????
I stared at it, smirked, then locked my phone. We were posted up in the lower level of the yacht, casino closed for the morning while Juste went through numbers like he was preachin scripture. Papers everywhere. Tablets glowin. Money talk floatin heavy in the air.
The hum of machines upstairs was gone, but I could still hear it in my head, coins, bells, voices, luck changing hands.
Juste was proud. Pierre was half listening.
Jules was quiet. That's how I knew shit was bad.
Jules didn't get quiet unless somethin was eatin at him from the inside out.
"And that's month and a half," Juste finished, tapping the table.
"We exceeded projections. By a lot." Pierre whistled low. "Nigga really did it."
I leaned back in my chair, crossin my arms. "Aye," I said, lifting my chin.
"I got a question." I said raisin my hand gettin their attention.
Pierre cut his eyes at me. "Put yo stupid ass hand down.
" I ignored him. "Since the casino off the ground and doin' what it's doin'," I continued, eyes on Juste, "when you gon' give me the green light to make the Baptiste family a memory?
" The room stilled. Juste looked at me like I'd just kicked over a church pew.
"Huh?" he said. "When the fuck we agree to wipe out a whole family? "
"When that old wrinkled-finger bitch opened her mouth about my wife," I said flat. "That's when." Juste rubbed his temples like he was already tired of my shit. "So what, now we just makin the family extinct because feelins hurt?"
"Feelins?" I scoffed. "She tried to mark her. Tried to break her spirit in front of everybody. That's war not feelins nigga." Pierre leaned back, watching me carefully now. Juste exhaled slow. "So what y'all thinkin'?" I didn't hesitate. "I can handle it clean. Quiet. Don't even gotta ripple."
"Stop talkin', Noles," Juste snapped. He turned to Jules.
"What you think?" Jules took a long pull from the blunt, smoke curlin around his face like a warnin sign.
"I'm wit' lil brudda," he said calmly. "This shit ain't gon' stop unless we end it.
All of it." Pierre raised his eyebrows. "Damn not you all in on this wild ass nigga plan. "
Juste stared at the table for a long moment. "Y'all keep talkin' about eliminatin' people," he said finally, "but ain't nobody got a plan. And I ain't lettin' shit come back on us, especially not now."
He looked at me pointedly.
"I'll figure somethin' out," he muttered. I nodded, but inside That wasn't enough. Not for me.
Because while they were talkin' strategy I was thinkin' about Ayida.
I didn't survive a coma to let the world chew her up.
I didn't claw my way back to life just to sit on my hands while mutha fuckas tested limits.
My love ain't gentle and It damn show ain't patient.
My love destroyed threats before they become memories.
I picked my phone back up, rereading her last message.
Be home soon.
I clenched my jaw. The smoke hung in the room. Same way my thoughts kept circling, never clearing, just looping back on themselves until my temples throbbed.
Pierre leaned back against the counter, glass in his hand, eyes half-lidded like this was just another night of niggas talkin' shit.
"Ju, you took your ass home yet?" Pierre asked, voice lazy.
Jules rolled his neck slow, shoulders tense like he'd been carrying weight too long.
"On some separate room shit, yeah." He nodded once.
"Better that way for the kids and shit."
He took a pull from the blunt like it was oxygen. Pierre smacked his lips. "Nigga, you know y'all been fuckin'." That made me chuckle low in my chest before I could stop it. Short. Sharp. No humor in it.
Jules shot him a look. "Do you niggas not understand what's goin' on?
" Jules said, rubbin his hand down his face like he was tryin' to wipe the whole situation away.
"This ain't no lil shit, my nigga. And on top of that, this nigga Nash on some obsessive, weird-ass shit.
" Pierre raised an eyebrow. "You mean how that bitch Jade was, once upon a time? " The name sat wrong in the room.
The air shifted. I felt Jules stiffen before he even said anything. His jaw flexed. His nostrils flared. That name was old poison. You don't bring that bitch up unless you tryna stir somethin'. "Aye, man. This completely different," Jules snapped. "You can't even compare the two."
He shoved the blunt in my direction harder than he needed to. I caught it, fingers tight around it, and leaned back deeper in my chair. Different. Everybody say that when shit come back around and bite them in the ass.
Juste cut his eyes over at Jules, face unreadable, but I knew that look. That nigga was about family but that nigga also believed in right being right.
"Nigga, how it's different?" He asked calmly, which was worse than if he'd raised his voice.
"Because I know you ain't about to sit up here and fix yo mouth to say this change how you feel about my niece.
" Jules' head snapped up. "What nigga? You don't love Juliana no more?
" Juste continued, tone sharp now. "You pushin' her to the wayside? " The room went quiet.
Jules sat forward, hand on his chin, eyes dark.
Ken "Nigga, the fuck you mean?" he said low.
"Juliana is my baby. My last pea in the pod.
I don't give a fuck what another nigga talkin' 'bout.
" His voice shook, not weak, but restrained.
"If a mutha fucka try to tell me otherwise," he went on, "you gon' see a nigga I ain't been in a real long time. Chill with that bullshit, Jus."
I watched his demeanor while he talked. That's how I knew he meant it.
Juste snatched the blunt out my hand mid-thought.
"Well, nigga, fix what the fuck you got goin' then.
" I exhaled through my nose, jaw tightenin.
Everybody always wanna talk about fixin shit like emotions don't bleed.
Like pride don't rot. Like mutha fuckas didn't make messes they didn't know how to clean up.
I leaned back, chair creakin under my weight.
"Look," I said, finally speakin up, voice steady but heavy. "I think all brudda tryna say is, for better or worse, you took them vows just like the rest of us did." Jules looked at me now. "She done stuck by you through your worst," I continued. "Why you can't stick by her through hers?"
The words hit the room and stayed there.
Jules scoffed, grabbing his glass off the table.
"So now all y'all niggas just on her cheatin' ass side?
That's fucked up." Pierre laughed, shaking his head.
"Nobody takin' her side, nigga. But you gotta respect the game.
" He leaned forward. "You started it. She just upped the score on yo ass without even tryin'. That's karma for that ass."
I laughed once, quick and humorless, dapin Pierre up as he reached for me.
Jules wasn't amused. "So y'all bitch-ass niggas tellin' me," he said, eyes sharp now, "Juste, you tellin' me if Chiana pulled some shit like this, you gon' be all forgivin' and lovey-dovey?
" Juste didn't even hesitate. "Nigga, please," he said, blowin smoke.
"Me personally? I ain't givin' my wife no reason to try to get even wit' me. " He shrugged. "I like home."
That made me laugh for real this time. "Fuck this nigga talkin' about?
" I said, noddin. "I'm wit' him." Jules turned to Pierre.
"P, you ain't said shit." Pierre shrugged.
Calm. "Ain't shit to say," he replied. "I got a child my wife take care of like she birthed.
I fucked up and did that." He looked Jules dead in the eye.
"If she decide to get even? I gotta respect it.
To say I'm leavin her and this life we created behind it.
Hell nawl. " Jules snorted. "Nigga, you full of shit. "
"I never said I'd be happy about it," Pierre said evenly.
"Or nice. I just said I gotta respect it.
" Jules waved us off, frustration pourin off him.
"I ain't tryna hear this shit." He leaned back, rubbin his temples.
"On the real, I keep prayin' this nigga Nash go on 'bout his business.
" His eyes lifted Hard. "I'm tellin' y'all, he got one more time to walk up on me and mine in public like that.
" His voice dropped to a whisper. "And I'ma splat his brains right there. I'm dead serious."
I looked at Jules and saw Decision on his face that should've scares the room.
Because I knew that look. I'd been livin' with it since the coma.
That place where rage stopped shoutin' and started thinkin'.
Where love turned into justification. Where lines was crossed and it was no lookin back.
All I could think, standing there with smoke in my lungs and blood in my memory, Was that if Jules was ready to lose himself, Then Nash had already sealed his fate.
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