CHAPTER TWENTY
JACKIE
Jackie was driving for what felt like hours.
Every time Marcus reached for her, MJ found a way to interrupt.
Playful, but intentional. Always reading the room before it exploded.
Jackie wiped a tear from her cheek, eyes fixed on the endless stretch of highway.
She wanted to hate Marcus but hate felt too small.
What she felt was exhaustion. Bone-deep exhaustion that had seeped into her spirit.
Headlights cut through the fog up ahead, sharp and blinding.
A shiver crawled down her spine as the GPS chimed softly. “You’ve arrived.”
Her hands were trembling before she even noticed.
The road curved into an abandoned truck stop.
No signs, no lights, just gravel and the faint glow of high beams in the distance.
Jackie threw the car in park and stepped out slowly, hands half-raised in front of her face.
The air smelled like diesel and cold metal.
Her heartbeat roared in her ears. “Marcus?” she called out.
Silence. Then, a door creaked open. “’Bout time,” came his voice, lazy and low.
“Was startin’ to think you ain’t care about your son no more.
” Her eyes strained against the glare until his shape came into view.
Lean, familiar, leaning against the front of a truck with a cigarette glowing between his fingers.
Jackie’s stomach knotted as Marcus flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his boot.
“You look confused,” he said, smirking. “Don’t be.
You know I don’t move without a reason.” She swallowed hard, her voice shaking despite her effort.
“Then say whatever you dragged me out here for. What do you want?”
He took a step closer, eyes glinting under the headlights. “What do I want?” He laughed under his breath. “See, that’s where you got it fucked up, baby. You always think this about you.” She clenched her jaw and said nothing. He circled her slowly, like a lion sizing up prey.
“You still don’t get it yet, huh? Only reason you out here is ‘cause I felt generous tonight.”
Her chest tightened. “Generous?” He smiled, sharp and humorless.
“Yeah. ‘Cause my son, my fucking son, got a birthday today. Big seventeen. And you know what he said when I asked him what he wanted?” Jackie didn’t answer.
She couldn’t. Marcus’s grin widened, cruel and deliberate.
“He said he wanted to see his raggedy, hoodrat, disloyal-ass mother.” The words landed like a slap.
Jackie flinched but stood her ground. Marcus tilted his head, eyes cold.
“And because I’m such a good father, I made it happen.
Right, son?” He turned toward the truck and motioned with his hand.
For a split second, nothing. Then the passenger door cracked open.
And there he was. MJ. Taller than she remembered.
His hair different from the cap-and-gown picture.
Mini starter locs now. A faint mustache coming in.
Seventeen years old. But still her baby boy.
The second she saw him, the world narrowed to a single pulse.
“Ma!” he shouted, already running. Jackie barely had time to brace herself before he crashed into her, arms locked tight around her neck.
The force lifted her off her feet, and she stumbled, clutching him like she could make up for every missed birthday in one hug.
Her knees buckled. A sob tore out of her before she could stop it.
“Baby…” Her voice broke. “Look at you,” she gasped, cupping his face, her fingers trembling.
“You so big now. You look just like—”
“Like you,” he finished, his voice muffled against her neck. “I look like you.”
For that moment, Jackie didn’t care about the headlights, or Marcus’s stare, or the fact that this reunion was on borrowed time.
Her son was in her arms. And for the first time in over two years, she could breathe.
Marcus took one last drag from his cigarette, watching them like a scene he’d already seen.
Smoke curled around his smirk. “Go ahead, lil’ nigga,” he said finally, flicking the butt to the gravel.
“You got seventeen minutes with your momma. Make ’em count.
” His tone was smooth, almost casual, but every word dripped cruelty.
He pushed off the hood, pacing slowly before speaking again.
“I offered this lil’ nigga a Range Rover and an investment property for his birthday,” he said, almost to himself.
“And you know what he told me? That all he wanted was a hug from his triflin’-ass mother.
” Jackie froze, clutching her son tighter.
Marcus laughed, low and ugly. “You believe that shit? I give my son the world, and still all he want is you.” He spat on the gravel.
“An ungrateful, lying ass bitch. A woman who wouldn’t know loyalty if it slapped her in the fucking face. ”
“Stop,” MJ said sharply. Marcus’s eyes slid toward him. “What you say?”
“I said stop talking to her like that.” Jackie’s heart twisted.
“Baby, it’s fine,” she whispered, gripping his arm. “Don’t—”
“Nah, let him talk,” Marcus cut in, stepping closer.
“You feelin’ grown now, huh?” MJ squared his shoulders. “I ain’t feelin’ nothin.’ I just don’t like you talkin’ to her like that.” Marcus smirked. “You get that defiant shit from her. She used to talk slick too, ’til I disciplined that out of her. Right, Jackie?” He laughed.
“Is that what I gotta do to you too, son?”
Jackie’s pulse pounded. “Marcus, please. Let him be. You made your point.”
“My point?” Marcus laughed. “Sweetheart, my point lives with me. Eats my food. Wears my name.” He took a drag, exhaled.
“And now he’s showin’ off for the reason we stuck in this bullshit town in East bubble-fuck in the first place.
” He dropped the cigarette. “I should cut this little visit short since he wanna pipe up.” Jackie leaned close to MJ, her voice trembling.
“Baby, please. Let him have this. I’m fine.
” She forced the words out. “MJ don’t disrespect your father.
He didn’t have to do this.” Marcus stared at her, then smirked.
“Thirteen minutes.” Jackie’s body went still.
She could hear gravel crunch under Marcus’s boots as he walked away, muttering into his phone, leaving them a few feet of space, but not privacy.
Never privacy. MJ didn’t let go. His arms stayed tight around her, his chest rising and falling against hers.
Seventeen now, taller than her, stronger too—but the way he held on felt the same as when he was her baby boy He leaned down, voice low.
“You okay?” She nodded, even though her throat burned.
“Yeah, baby. I’m fine.” He pulled back just enough to see her face, eyes glassy.
“You not,” he said softly.
“I can tell.” Jackie smiled through it, brushing his hair from his forehead.
“You got taller,” she said, trying to sound light, though her voice cracked. He gave a quiet laugh.
“Yeah. Coach said I gotta bulk up more before next season.”
“Football?” He nodded, pride flickering behind the tears.
“Running back. I start now. I’m All-American.” Jackie’s chest swelled with pride and ache all at once. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered. “I know,” he said, pulling her closer.
“Nef told me she sent you my cap and gown pics.”
“Yeah,” Jackie managed, tears threatening again. “I got them.”
“She ain’t so bad, Ma,” he said quietly. “Yeah,” Jackie murmured. “She’s not.”
“She told me everything,” he went on. “I know the real reason we had to leave the city. And that ain’t on you, Ma.
That is on him.” His voice carried a calm that did not belong to a teenager.
Jackie could only nod, silent tears tracing her cheeks.
“I know you tried everything to keep me safe,” he said, his voice trembling.
“To keep us connected. And one day, we gon’ be together again, all of us.
So I don’t want you feelin’ guilty about this Ma, I know where home is, and it aint never been with him.
It has always been with you and Max. I see y’all in my dreams sometimes,” he said, his voice cracking.
“I can hear you singing Taylor Swift and rapping Meek in the same car ride.” He gave a small, watery laugh.
Jackie let out a broken chuckle through her tears. “That sound about right.”
“I can hear Max calling my name, asking me a million questions.” His voice softened.
“Did his teeth ever come in yet?”
“One did,” Jackie smiled faintly. “How he doin’?”Jackie hesitated, reminding herself that even though he sounded grown, he was still a child. Her child.
“He has good days and bad ones,” she said gently. “He misses you a lot. He doesn’t understand everything, so he’s been actin’ out in school. But he’s in a really good program now. I’m getting him some therapy to help him process all this.” MJ nodded, eyes glistening. “He’ll be okay,” she said.
“We all will.”
“Tell him his big brother loves him,” MJ whispered, tears spilling now. “I wish he could be here to see you.” Jackie half-laughed, half-sobbed, thumbing away his tears. “He’d love that.”
But MJ shook his head, face hardening. “No. You can’t ever bring Max here.
I don’t trust him. His eyes flicked toward Marcus, who was leaning against the truck, staring at them through a haze of cigarette smoke.
“Four minutes,” Marcus called out, voice cutting through the night like a blade.
MJ’s shoulders tensed. He swallowed, voice trembling.
“My dad said… we can have two more visits before…” He stopped himself, the rest catching in his throat.
Jackie froze. “Before what?” He just shook his head, backing away slightly, tears glinting under the harsh light.
“I don’t know, Ma. He really been in his bag since we moved out here, Fightin’ with Nef more.
He even got a couple folks from back home down here too.
It’s like… they planning something.” Jackie’s breath hitched.