Ayida #2
The question landed like a stone in water no splash, just ripples I'd been tryin' not to look at.
"I think part of me has," I said quietly, eyes fixed on the braid forming beneath my fingers.
"But part of me hasn't." Because part of me still woke up hopeful and counted days.
"Hope is a dangerous thing," she murmured.
"I know," I said. "But it's the only thing that make this pain make sense. " She was quiet for a long moment.
"You love that St. Jean boy, nothing could change that," she said finally.
It wasn't a question either. "Yes ma'am," I answered.
Too fast. She nodded once. "That kind of love don't come without cost." My fingers tightened around the braid.
"I'm not scared of the cost," I said. "I'm scared of what happen if I stop believing.
" She leaned back slightly in the chair, trusting my hands completely.
"Faith ain't about believing you gon' get what you want," she said.
"It's about believing spirit is here for you, even when you don't." My chest burned.
"What if I'm not strong enough for that?
" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
"What if I wake up one day and I resent him for wantin' somethin' my body can't give?
" Her voice softened then. "That fear don't make you weak," she said. "It make you human."
I swallowed hard, blinking fast. "And what if I become bitter?
" I whispered. "What if I become my mama?
" That made her sit up straighter. "You ain't her," she said firmly.
"And you ain't her mistakes. You carry blood but you also carry choice.
" The words had barely settled in my chest before the house answered back.
The lights flickered twice. Then dimmed so low the room dipped into shadow, like the house itself was holdin' its breath.
Before I could speak, a sudden rush of wind slammed through the place hard enough to make the screen door fly open with a violent bang. The curtains lifted and twisted, snapping through the air like they were alive, brushing against my arms, my face, my throat.
The candles.
All of them.
Every single flame Madame Laurent had lit through the house snuffed out at once, plunging us into a heavy, unnatural stillness that rang louder than noise ever could.
My heart started racing.
Outside, the sky shifted fast blue folding into gray, gray bleeding into something darker. The clouds churned low and tight, rolling over each other like they were arguing about where to break first.
A storm was forming. No, Something was coming.
My hands froze mid-braid. "Madame" I whispered.
She didn't turn around. Her shoulders squared like she'd been expectin' this.
"Something is happening," she said lowly, voice steady but reverent.
Then she began to hum. A slow, deep melody rose from her chest. Old.
Familiar. The same song she used to hum when I was small and restless, when nightmares chased me out my sleep and into her bed.
The one she sang when grief sat heavy in the house and words weren't enough.
My throat tightened. I hummed along instinctively, the sound trembling at first before settling into my bones.
The tune slid out of me like muscle memory, like my body remembered before my mind did.
The wind eased slightly. The curtains fell back into place, swaying slow now, like they were listening.
I finished braiding her hair, fingers moving without thought, guided by something deeper than instruction.
Each braid felt deliberate. Sacred. Like I was stitching protection into her scalp, into myself.
-
After leaving Madame Laurent's house, I did something I almost never did.
I checked Noles' location. The dot pulsed on my screen like it knew I was hesitating, like it knew I was crossing some invisible line.
I stared at it for a long second longer than necessary, thumb hovering, heart beating too fast for no good reason.
I didn't know why I was going. That wasn't true. I knew exactly why.
I needed to feel him. Needed to breathe the same air, hear his voice without a phone between us, remind my spirit where home lived.
After everything that had been stirred up, I needed to ground myself in something solid.
I pulled up outside Velvet and parked next to his car.
The sight of it eased something tight in my chest. He was here.
Alive. Moving. Existing in the same world as me.
I didn't bother calling. He wouldn't answer.
He never did when he was working. I locked my doors, stepped out, and walked inside like I'd been there before.
The front entrance was roped off, velvet cord stretched tight, a woman and a security guard standing watch. The woman's eyes skimmed over me slow, assessing, dismissive, her posture already sharp with judgment. "Can I help you?" the guard asked. "Yes," I said softly. "I'm here to see Noles."
The woman shifted her weight, arms crossing over her chest. "And who are you?
" I smiled, sweetly. "Ayida," I said, extending my hand just enough to let her see the ring catch the light.
"Ayida St. Jean. Noles' wife." Her mouth parted just slightly.
The smile I gave her let her know I noticed.
The guard cleared his throat. "You can follow me. "
I giggled under my breath, waved at her with my ring hand, and followed him through the club.
The deeper we went, the louder the bass pulsed under my feet, vibrating through my bones.
Women moved through the space in silk and lace, laughter around them.
Perfume, liquor, money, sweat. it all blended into something decadent and heavy.
Exactly how Chiana described it. An upscale whorehouse dressed up as ambition.
We climbed a side staircase, the noise dulling as we moved higher, then walked down a long hallway lit low and gold.
He stopped at the third door and knocked.
"Somebody wife here," he said, cracking the door just enough to speak inside.
"Stupid ass nigga, who wife?" Pierre's voice snapped. "We all got wives."
"She said Noles. But I don't know."
"Look like she do voodoo?" Juste asked. The security guard nodded.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, let her in," Juste said.
The door opened fully and I stepped inside.
The energy in the room hit me immediately.
Jules sat off in the corner staring at nothing, his body thinner, his face harder, his spirit dimmer.
It hurt to look at him like that. "Wassam," Juste said, nodding.
Pierre followed suit. Juste turned and shouted down the hall, "Noles, yo wife up hea. "
"What the fuck you talkin' 'bout?" Noles' voice came first, then him, walking in with a stack of money in his hands and a blunt hanging from his lips.
Seeing him like that did something dangerous to me.
He was in work mode cold and focused. He set the money down, pulled the blunt from his mouth, and his eyes locked on me like the room had emptied out.
"Baeebbyy, you aight?" he asked, already crossing the space between us.
He kissed my face, my temple, my cheek quick, grounding, familiar.
I nodded. "Come on," he said, taking my hand and pulling me away from the room, down the hallway, into another space.
The room was dim, intimate. low couches built into the floor, a pole standing in the center like a quiet witness. "The longer I'm here," I murmured, looking around, "the more I see why Chiana and Amina hate it." He chuckled softly. "What you doin' here, Yi?"
"I missed you," I said honestly. "Needed to touch you. Feel you." His eyes darkened as he took me in, slow and thorough. His hair was rough, undone. His energy was sharp but tired. Beautiful in a way that scared me.
"Mmhmm," he murmured, pulling me to him, his mouth finding mine like it always did hungry, claiming.
His mouth trailed down my neck and back up to my ear.
I felt him reaching for my pants trying to unbutton them.
I helped push them off leaving me in my panties, before I reached for his pants.
He stopped made making me look at him confused.
"Take your panties off." He demanded reaching for them snatching them off before I could push them down.
He grabbed me by my arm pushing me face down on the couch.
He ran his finger up my wet slit making me moan out and shake at the same time.
He slid under me on his back planting my pussy directly in his face.
His tongue made instant contact with my clit making me writhe and moan out forgetting where I was for a minute.
_
I couldn't settle. No matter how tight Noles' arms were around me, no matter how steady his breathing stayed in my ear, my spirit wouldn't rest. His body was warm, solid, anchoring but my mind kept drifting, slipping between the edges of sleep like something didn't want me to go all the way under.
It felt wrong to sleep. Like I was being warned.
I shifted, damp with sweat, my nightgown sticking to my back. Noles' hand tightened instinctively around my waist, pulling me closer, like he could feel me slipping somewhere he couldn't reach. When sleep came, it came heavy with a dream. It wasn't soft or merciful.
The air went cold at my ankles unnatural, like somebody opened a door in a house with no wind.
I was standing in front of a house. Mid-sized.
Wooden. Crooked like it had been leaning for years and finally gave up trying to stand straight.
It sat off the edge of an old bayou, the kind where the water didn't move unless something disturbed it.
Moss hung low from the trees, brushing the roof like fingers that had been there too long.
The yard was swallowed by weeds. The porch sagged. Windows dark.
No life, But inside I could hear voices.
I moved without walking, pulled forward like the house had a hold on me.
The floorboards creaked beneath my feet as I stepped inside, the air thick and sour, heavy with fear and old anger.
The hallway stretched longer than it should have, walls closing in as I moved toward a door at the end.
The voices sharpened.
Nash.
Filesha.
And their mama.
They were arguing, frantic, venomous. "We get the money," Nash said, pacing, his voice sharp and desperate.
"After we make the exchange, we get the fuck on.
They gon' be too distracted to notice us slippin out.
That's the best option we got. We meet up in an hour and do the exchange. " I stepped closer.
That's when I saw Juliana. Standing beside Filesha, small, still, eyes too big for her face.
She looked confused. Like she didn't understand why the air felt wrong.
Mozele turned on Nash so fast the room seemed to shake.
"You just like your damn daddy," she roared.
"Weak behind pussy. This the second time pussy damn near cost this family every fuckin thing and it never end up being worth the nut. "
Her voice echoed off the walls, vibrating through my chest.
The argument exploded after that. Voices overlapping with accusations. Fear dressed up as anger. The house started to groan.
The walls bent.
The ceiling dipped.
The floor rolled like water under my feet.
Juliana moved She pulled free from Filesha's hand suddenly, like something told her to run. "Juliana!" Filesha screamed. It was too late.
Juliana bolted down the hallway, her little feet slapping against the wood, panic finally catching up to her body. They chased her but not fast enough. The hallway stretched, warped, like it was protecting her and betraying her at the same time.
She hit the stairs. I watched it happen in slow motion.
Her foot slipped. Her body pitched forward.
Her scream cut off halfway down. The sound of her hitting the bottom echoed once.
Then there was Silence. A silence so loud it pressed against my ears.
Filesha reached her first, dropping to her knees, shaking hands checking for breath.
I watched her face collapse as realization hit.
She looked back up the stairs, tears filling her eyes, and shook her head.
Nash froze and Mozele didn't move at all.
Time stopped. The house held its breath.
And I felt something rip through me. A scream tore out of my chest and I woke up.
It felt like someone had thrown cold water on me.
I shot upright, drenched in sweat, heart slamming so hard I thought it would break my ribs.
My sheets were soaked. My hair clung to my neck. My hands shook.
"Noles " I gasped. He was already standing over me.
He was fully dressed and his eyes were bloodshot red.
"Get up, Yi," he said quietly almost hoarse "We gotta go.
" My throat closed. "What?" I whispered.
"They found Juliana," he said, voice flat, hollow.
"In the back of an abandoned car. About an hour ago. "
The room spun. My ears rang. The dream collapsed in on itself, folding into reality so clean it made me dizzy. I pressed my hand to my mouth, a sob choking its way out of me. "Oh God," I whispered , rocking forward. "Mon Dieu, please..."
Noles reached for me, steadying me as my body started to shake. I had asked for sight. I had prayed for discernment. And the ancestors had answered. But nobody ever tells you that sight doesn't come with protection.
Sometimes it comes with prophecy.
Sometimes it comes with blood.
And sometimes It comes too late.
I clung to Noles as the weight of it crushed down on me, knowing deep in my spirit that this death was not just an ending. It was a turning and nothing, would ever be the same again.