3. James
a few hours prior to the club
“Uncle James!” Rose exclaimed in her high pitched, childish voice. She ran to me at full speed. I bent my knees and held out my arms to scoop her up. After I kissed her forehead, I tickled her sides. Her squeals of joy warmed my heart.
“Hey, Roro. How are you doing today?” I asked.
“Good. I spent the day with Daddy,” she explained enthusiastically.
“Did you have fun with your dad?”
She nodded animatedly. “We went to the park. We ate ice cream and gummy bears. Then Daddy took me home to Mama. Mama yelled at Daddy. Mama said niggas ain’t shit . What are niggas, Uncle James?”
My lips pulled into a deep frown as I listened to my five-year-old niece repeat what my sister had said around her. I shook my head.
“Those are grown up words, Roro. You are too young to be saying them.”
She frowned. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, baby girl, but your mama is. Go upstairs and watch cartoons, okay?”
“Okay.”
I placed her on her feet and watched as she ran up the stairs to her room.
When her tiny frame disappeared, I walked into the kitchen.
My sister, Jasmine, was at the stove, stirring a pot of what smelled like catfish.
The air fryer hummed in the distance, most likely cooking a batch of fries.
I may have been a fit nigga, but I was a big back at heart. Food was a love language of mine.
“Hey, Jay.”
“Don’t. Why the fuck you got my niece telling me niggas ain’t shit ?” I asked.
She laughed. “Rose said that?”
“Yes, bro. Why are y’all even arguing around her?” I quizzed.
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Because her daddy is a stupid ass nigga who ain’t worth a damn.”
“Oh well. You chose to lay down with that nigga and keep the baby. Now you got to put your differences aside and do what you got to do while preserving your child’s innocence. Rose shouldn’t even have that phrase in her vocabulary.”
“Okay, James.”
Jasmine was my younger sister. She would celebrate her twenty-fourth birthday in the spring. She was a younger version of our mother, cocoa colored skin, round hazel eyes, and a petite frame. She wanted to be like me with long dreadlocks.
Rose was Jasmine’s twin as well. It was like Jasmine 3D printed a miniature version of herself—attitude and all.
“Aye, fix that attitude. Keep Rose out of the room when you’re bashing your baby daddy.
Ain’t shit cute about a child too grown for their age.
You know she’s a sponge and repeats everything she hears.
She shouldn’t hear you saying shit negative about the man who is showing up—which is more than a lot of these niggas are doing. ”
“Boy, calm down. You’re only mad because that lil bitch you were fucking lied and tried to trap you with a baby. Just because you’ve got a bad experience with baby mamas doesn’t mean we all out here trying to hurt a nigga. You think you the voice of peace and maturity. Nigga, please.”
“You know how to piss me the fuck off, Jasmine.” I went over to her refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water.
I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was right.
A woman I thought was bringing my child into the world had burned me.
Turns out, she fucked around so much she had no clue who the father was and assumed I’d just go with the flow. She was sadly mistaken though.
“You got damn right. What else am I supposed to do as your little sister?” she asked with a grin.
I shook my head. “You lucky Mama taught me not to put my hands on women. I wanna bat you upside your big ass head.”
“You would never lay a finger on me.”
“That’s why you spoiled now.”
Jasmine grinned “Exactly. So, do you want a plate before you head to work? I know you only pulled up because you saw my grocery delivery this morning.”
I chuckled. “Fa shit sho. You spent damn near half a band on groceries. I figured you was gon’ whip something up for me.”
“I made enough for you.”
“You’re the best little sister,” I replied as I claimed a seat at the table and waited for my meal.
My mama, sister, and niece had access to an account I put money in with each weekly deposit I received.
I made more than enough money to take care of all the women in my life.
My grandfather and dad instilled those morals in me at a young age.
As my father got sicker, he made sure I never forgot that.
One of my main goals in life was to keep the legacies of the Hill men pristine.
When I clocked into work, the last person I’d thought I’d see was Brielle. I hadn’t seen her since the shooting at the block party over six months ago, but she’d plagued my mind ever since. I wanted to see her before she left again.
“We’ve got a packed house, Jay. Can you help inside?” Mitch asked as he placed an arm over my shoulder.
I nodded. “Yeah. I got you.”
“Thanks.”
Mitch disappeared into the club as I finished up the checks of the current group of people in front of me.
Once they went inside, I did the same. The music blared through the speakers.
It was a mix of songs I wasn’t familiar with, but I could tell these were some crowd favorites by the amount of people rapping and dancing.
I patrolled the bottom floor, the bar, and the back hallway before I posted up near the steps of the second-floor sections. My eyes scanned the area intently, making sure nothing or no one was out of place.
“Go, Bri! Go, Bri!” I craned my neck to see Brielle and her friends dancing.
She was drunk as hell. With the perfect view, I openly ogled her.
She was my type—thick and juicy in all the right places.
Her light brown skin looked radiant, even in the dark club.
She was what folks would categorize as a BBW: beautiful, big woman.
Her weight ain’t make me no difference. I’d still fold her fine ass like a pretzel.
Our eyes locked, and she smirked. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave her ass an extra jiggle. I licked my lips at the sight of her round ass moving like Jell-O.
“Hey, James.”
I tore my eyes away from Brielle’s section to look over at one of the bottle girls. “What’s good, Cierra?”
“Shit, nothing. Headed to the VIP suites.”
I nodded. “Be safe.”
“Always. Plus, I know you and Gio got my back.”
“Fa sho.”
All the women at the club knew they were safe with me around.
I witnessed far too many weirdoes try to do weird shit in the club, and any girl working during my shift could trust I’d be there to protect them before anything went down.
Niggas liked to turn a blind eye to their weird ass homies.
Not me though. I made sure niggas knew the shit they did was out of line and predatory.
It was quite a few Cade’s Cove natives who were banned from any place I worked at because of how suspect they moved around women.
When I turned back to look at Brielle’s section, she was no longer there. My eyes scanned the area, but I couldn’t find her pretty round face and black dress. I tried to shrug it off. She might have gone to the bathroom or something.
“Are those muscles for show, or can you really do some heavy lifting?”
The question made me laugh deep in my belly. My body turned to see Brielle approaching from the right. She stopped a few steps away from me. Her perfume was intoxicating. The urge to bury my face in the crook of her neck was strong.
My lips pulled into a smirk before I replied. “I’d be more than happy to show you just how much weight I can lift.”
“Yes, please. I’ve always been a visual learner.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Brielle, you gon’ get everything you asking for and more. It ain’t ever been any cap in my rap.”
“Good. I want you to show me a thing or two.”
“Would you still have this same energy if you weren’t drunk?” I asked as I tucked my hands in my pockets.
She closed the distance between us and placed her perfectly manicured hands on the sides of my face. She scratched the skin teasingly before nodding. “Yes.”
“A’ight. Give me your number.”
She stood on the tips of her toes and tilted my head to expose my neck. She traced each digit of her phone number into the exposed skin with her tongue before she stepped back with a grin.
My eyes closed to keep from lifting her up and fucking her right where we stood. I took several calming breaths before I opened my eyes and looked at her.
“Yeah, you gon’ need to be shown a thorough lesson, because the shit you just pulled almost got you bent over this railing.”
The fire in her eyes was enough to make me want to duck off into the office. However, I kept my composure despite the tightness of my pants from my dick wanting to break free.
“No, but seriously. Give me your phone so I can put my number in there.”
I reached into my pocket and retrieved the device. With a couple taps, I was on the add contact feature of my phone. She took the phone, put her number in it, snapped a quick picture, and called herself so she would have my number as well.
“And when I’m calling you tonight, are you going to answer?”
“Fa shit sho.”
“Good. I better get back to my friends before they come searching for me.”
I nodded. “Be safe, beautiful.”
“Yes, sir.”
I watched her walk away. She looked just as good from the back as she did in the front. I wanted to taste her. I wanted to see just how juicy her pussy got with my face buried deep in her warmth.
“Get it together, James,” I told myself as I resumed my original task of scoping out the people in the club.