CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
JACKIE
Jackie should’ve said no.
Jackie’s eyes moved slow, taking it all in without trying to be obvious. Because truth be told? She should’ve taken her ass home. Outside had already played in her face enough for one night.
But here she was, riding shotgun with her son’s therapist on her way to God knows where.
Jackie knew this shit could go left. But at this point, she was doing it for the plot.
She’d already dumped a whole bucket of ice water on Max’s teacher.
In her mind, shit couldn’t get no worse than that.
So when Najee said he might know a place—she didn’t think.
She just went. The whole night had felt like one long, ghetto-ass humiliation ritual.
From the shit with Kormia to the way Cash sat there and let his bitch turn her into the punchline.
Jackie was at her limit. The old her would’ve knocked all that shit over.
And in a way, she did. But it didn’t feel good.
If anything, she felt worse allowing that bitch to take her there.
Jackie wanted a vibe, not a charge. That club shit lingered and sat heavy on her chest.
But instead of sitting in it, Jackie was determined to move forward and charge it to the game.
Because if she didn’t? She was just going to ruin the vibe before she could catch a new one.
Jackie exhaled again. Deeper this time. Allowing some of the tension she had been carrying to release—even if it all didn’t leave.
The smoothness of the ride soothed her some, as the city blurred past in streaks of gold and shadow.
The soft sounds of Victoria Monét floated through the speakers, settling into the quiet as the low hum of late-night traffic carried underneath.
Jackie shifted her focus to the driver’s seat…
and really took in the man next to her. Najee hadn’t said much the entire drive.
He didn’t press her or pry. And for once?
She appreciated that. She was in no mood to explain shit tonight. All she wanted was a reset.
Her eyes slid over to him for a second. She couldn’t even front, something about his presence grounded her.
His posture was relaxed but alert, like nothing from the club had phased him.
It was clear he didn’t move like the others.
He had already shown up for her once without judgment.
So maybe that was just who he was. Jackie’s shoulders loosened and for the first time since leaving the club.
Her dress was still too damn tight, and her feet were cursing her the fuck out.
But at least now, she could think. Her gaze lingered a second too long before she caught herself and locked that curiosity back down.
“Where you taking me?” she asked finally, voice softer now.
Najee didn’t look at her. Just made a smooth turn, one hand sliding along the wheel like he’d done it a thousand times.
“You said you wanted a vibe,” he replied.
“So, I’m delivering.” Jackie huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head.
“Aight. I’m holding you to that, Doc.”
A few minutes later, he slowed the car and pulled up to a nondescript brownstone tucked between a law office and an art gallery.
No sign. No valet. Only a black door and a single brass knocker.
Jackie blinked twice. Because Ain’t no way.
“This it?” she questioned, eyes dragging over the building slower this time.
The outside gave… dentist office. Jackie thought they were heading to another club, or at least an after-hours spot.
Not a residential block in the middle of God knows where.
The neighborhood was gated and surrounded by townhomes and new builds. Jackie could tell by all the BLM posters in the windows… she was somewhere gentrified. The brownstone was tucked off South Street, between Olde City and Penns landing. Nothing about the block screamed vibe.
Still… Jackie was determined to trust the process.
The car came to a smooth stop. Najee shifted into park, the engine cutting off as the quiet lingered.
Jackie turned her head, really looking at him this time.
Tonight, he was dressed down, but still not regular.
He wore a Balmain crewneck, Chrome Hearts joggers, and something understated on his wrist. And those readers?
The same pair she’d quietly grown fond of.
He was rocking them tonight. He looked back at her, and for a moment he didn’t say anything.
Just held her there with that steady gaze, that always made her feel exposed.
“You trust me?” he asked finally, voice low.
Jackie’s brow lifted slightly. “Should I?” He didn’t answer right away.
His gaze stayed on hers for a moment, like he was weighing his answer.
The silence that filled the air now felt thick with intention and possibility.
“What did I tell you the other day?” He paused, allowing the weight of his words to land.
“I’m always good when I’m with you.” Jackie’s lips curved slightly, but she caught the smile before it could form.
“Well… Dr. Amin-Rashid, I’m not always with you,” she shot back, playful but edged with something sharper.
“All the more reason why you should be,” he replied as his eyes never wavered.
The words hit Jackie. Everywhere. But rather than process that feeling.
She looked away, trying her best to regroup in real time.
A few seconds later, he exited the car and came around to her side and opened it before she could reach for the handle.
“Where you taking me, Dr. Nigel?” she asked softly as she stepped out.
“You’ll see.” He took her hand like it was nothing and led her up the steps to the narrow brownstone.
When they finally reached the top, the front door clicked open.
Inside, it was nothing like she expected.
Glossy stone stretched beneath her feet, polished and quiet.
Velvet-lined walls soaked up the low lighting, as candlelight flickered soft against the gold accents.
The air carried a subtle scent of oud and orange blossom, rich but not overwhelming.
Somewhere deeper, music played low. Smooth R&B—maybe Brent or Bryson.
All Jackie knew was, whatever this place was, it was exclusive.
She’d been to her fair share of after-hours and lounges. This was not that.
“Dr. Amin-Rashid, welcome back.” The woman greeting him didn’t check them or even ask questions.
She simply guided them toward a private room overlooking the skyline.
Jackie stayed near the doorway instead of sitting.
The pain in her feet had finally caught up, and the boning in her corset dress was digging so deep into her ribs she could barely breathe.
Najee noticed instantly. “Come here,” he said, settling onto the low velvet bench.
She hesitated briefly, but eventually she crossed the space toward him.
She was moving slow, more aware of herself than she’d been all night.
When she finally reached him, his hands came to her waist, steady but sure.
She stepped in close until her knees brushed his, just as he carefully drew her down in the seat next to him.
The contact was closer than she expected.
She didn’t pull away. Even when his hands settled at her lap just long enough to ground her.
His touch was calm and deliberate, like he was taking his time with her instead of rushing.
Then he paused, lifting his eyes to hers.
“You good?” he asked, voice low and even.
His attention stayed fixed on her, quietly assessing.
Almost like he was reading her energy instead of trusting her words.
Talk to me,” he added.
Jackie held his gaze, steadying herself in it.
“I’m good,” she said quietly. He watched her a second longer, then his hands moved again, gliding down her sides as he shifted forward and eased her back just enough, so her weight settled onto the bench.
The transition was smooth and unhurried, and before she could fully track it, he was on his knees in front of her.
His hands were already at her ankles, undoing the straps of her heels with quiet precision, one after the other, setting them aside without ceremony.
When his fingers came back, they stayed.
His thumbs pressed into the balls of her feet, working out the tightness with slow, deliberate strokes, completely easing the tension.
Jackie’s head tipped back, and before she could catch it, a soft moan slipped free.
Najee didn’t acknowledge it, instead his attention remained on her feet.
His hands continued their steady work. As heat gathered in the pit of her stomach.
“Stand up.”
His voice carried a calm authority, that made his command feel less like a request, and more like a reflex her body already knew to obey.
Jackie rose to her feet without hesitation.
The cool marble grounded her as the ache from her feet gradually faded.
Then before she knew it everything sharpened again.
The room. The air. Him behind her. All of it felt too close.
She felt his hand find the zipper at her back before she heard him move.
When he paused, the space between that touch and his voice stretched just enough to make her aware of it.
“Is this, okay?” he asked. She didn’t trust her voice, so she answered with a slow nod.
His fingers pulled the zipper down, the tension in the dress easing inch by inch, loosening at her ribs, opening her back to the air.
The dress never fell, just settled low around her hips, finally releasing the tension she had felt all night. The shift made her breathing change.