Chapter 4
Big Bane Bankole
The cardboard boxes were stacked three high against the cinderblock wall, the smell of fresh paint and floor wax hung in the cramped space of the freshman dorm.
I dug my fingers into the plastic molding at the base of the mini-fridge, locking my forearms against the metal before hoisting it against my chest to set it on his desk.
Then, I decided against it and picked it back up.
“Show off.”
“You should’ve come to the gym with me instead of spending your time on Fortnite.”
“Don’t nobody want to go to the gym at five in the morning every day.”
I set the fridge down in the corner of the room, wiping my palms against my jeans.
"Aight," I said, turning around to face the center of the room. "That's the last of it."
Ryan stood by the unmade twin bed. He smirked as he looked at the layout of the room. He was eighteen now, towering close to my height. His tall frame made him look more like a wide receiver than the tech genius he actually was.
He bounced on the balls of his feet, puffing his chest out as he squared his shoulders.
"Man, I don't need the gym anyway," Ryan joked, throwing a quick jab a few inches from my face.
"I got enough power right here to take you down. You gettin’ old.”
“Oh, for real?”
“Yeah you old. What you know about these hands?"
I watched him with a raised brow. "You think just because you got a lil facial hair you can step to me?"
"I'm just saying," Ryan laughed, trying to wrap his arms around my waist. "The future is now. Your knees probably creaking right—"
Before he could lock his hands behind my back, I got him.
Smack!
I popped the back of his neck.
"Ah! See, that's cheating!" Ryan chuckled, jumping back and rubbing the warm spot on his neck.
"I don’t fight fair. You betta’ chill out before you get dropped in front of your roommate," I said. "That boy gone walk through the door and find you on the floor. Your whole reputation is dead on day one. They gone call you 'the kid who got washed by his dad' for the next four years."
"Man, whatever," Ryan muttered. "You lucky you my dad. That’s the only reason I’m letting you walk away."
I walked over to his closet, unzipping his garment bags and started hanging up his button-downs and jackets myself. I made sure they were spaced out right, checking the collars, doing the small things he won’t have time for.
I didn't want him having to worry about a single thing except his books and his future.
"Hey, Dad," Ryan said quietly, watching me straighten out a hanger. "You don't gotta do all that. I can handle it."
"I know you can," I replied before I turned around. "I was just helping out."
I crossed my arms, leaning my hip against the desk, looking at this young man I’ve been fostering for eight long years.
The system had given up on him, but the second he walked into my house at ten years old, I knew I would change his life.
I’d poured every ounce of my success from the dealership into making sure he had the tools for a real life.
I made sure he walked around the world with his head held high, despite his cruel beginnings.
I knew what it was like for people to feed you to the wolves.
"Aight," I said, tilting my head.
“Focus.” I snapped my fingers and he stood up straight, looking directly in my eyes.
"What is accountability?" I demanded, dropping my voice.
Ryan recited it quickly, "Owning what you say or do like a man."
"Be a—"
"Leader."
"Not a—"
"A follower."
"Who is in control?"
"I am in control," he answered.
"Who is in control?" I pressed, stepping closer into his space, testing his foundation.
"I am in control," he repeated, his voice ringing out louder, solid as stone.
"And what is your obligation?"
"To make the best of any situation."
“What are the rules while you are here?”
"Don't let nobody turn you into a punk-ass bitch," Ryan recited, his voice dropping into that deep rhythm he’d picked up from being around me for so long. "Be confident but respectful when you talking to the ladies. Don’t bring no babies home. Wrap it up everytime. Remember to balance between work and play.”
“What else?”
“Pay attention in class... or at least make sure I got a friend who actually knows how to pay attention in class. Make the most of this opportunity. Oh and to pay attention to my surroundings at all times."
I stared at him for a quiet beat. My chest swelled with pride. Years ago, he was a terrified kid, looking at the world like it owed him nothing but a beating. Now, he was standing tall, clear-eyed, and ready for whatever the world threw at him.
"You keep up the good work out here. I’ll check in when I can," I said, but my voice dropped into a whisper.
A tear tried to force its way out, but I blinked it back, looking down at the floor for a brief moment before pretending to adjust a box of textbooks under his desk.
I wasn't about to look soft in front of my son. He already had me wrapped around his finger.
Unfortunately, he wouldn’t leave me alone. He let out a soft laugh, stepping closer. "Dad, please don’t do this right now."
"What?" I asked, snapping my head up. "I ain't doing a damn thing."
Ryan didn't say another word. He just closed the distance and wrapped his arms around me.
I clenched my jaw as my vision got blurry. “I ain’t ask for this.”
“I’m gonna miss you too, Dad.”
I locked him in tight, holding him for a few seconds. Watching him enter this new chapter was the greatest thing I’d ever witnessed. I was just so damn grateful that I had been in a position to help him. I loved him more than I said, but he knew how much it hurt for me to let him go.
I pulled back, keeping my hands on his shoulders. "Don’t forget to call me if you need anything. For real. I ain’t too far away."
Ryan smirked, trying to lighten the gravity in the room. "You're like three-hours away."
"That don’t mean shit, Ry," I said. "Three hours is nothing. You call me if you need me. I don’t care if it's three in the morning or three in the afternoon. You betta’ call me."
He nodded, stepping in to wrap his arms around me for one last heavy-ass hug. "I got you, Dad. Thank you for everything."
I patted his back, my chest tight as hell as I forced myself to nod and look away before the cracks started showing. “Don’t trip… I guess I better get home. Have fun, son.” I patted his back before I closed his door.
I climbed up into the cabin of my truck, and pulled away from the university campus. The silence inside that space was bothering me, so I didn't leave it quiet for long. I reached over, cracked all the windows down, and blasted Boyz II Men through the speakers.
The moment my tires hit the open stretch of the interstate heading back to Georgia, the dam finally broke.
The tears came down, rolling through the neat lines of my trimmed beard. I didn't even try to wipe 'em away. I just reached over to the passenger seat, grabbed my bottle, and took a long sip. The wind whipped through the truck as I focused on the road.
Damn, this shit hurt. Shit cut me deep, mane.
I sat still, gripping the steering wheel.
Who the fuck am I going to run errands with now?
I didn't really like people like that, they irritated the shit out of me. Ryan was my buddy. He actually wanted to hang out with his old man. I couldn't go out like no bitch, I had to keep my composure, but shit... I was gonna miss my son.
I wanted him to be so much better than I ever was.
I wanted him to have the clean slate, the degree, the life where he never had to look over his shoulder or wonder if a police cruiser was turning around for him in the dark.
I believed in his future with every single fiber of my being, even if it meant driving back down this long-ass highway entirely alone.
The sunset kept my attention as I bobbed my head to the music. About an hour into the drive, a strange sensation gripped the center of my chest. Then, my left hand twitched against the steering wheel.
A sharp jolt shot straight through my ring finger. I let out a sharp breath, pulling my hand off the leather wheel and flexing my fingers.
The ring finger was jumping so wildly, I banged my hand against the door.
"Man, you gotta chill on them damn energy drinks," I muttered aloud to the empty truck. I’dbeen trying out those high-caffeine pre-workouts for my morning runs lately, and my nerves were just playing tricks on me from the crash.
By nightfall, I had completely forced myself into a different headspace. I got back to the house, showered, and got cleaned up real nice. I lined up my beard, threw on a tailored black button-down, and headed out to the restaurant.
The spot she’d picked was upscale and loud. I sat across from her, playing it cool, smiling at the right times, and acting like I actually gave a damn about the drama at her annoying job.
I met her online, as an attempt to get out of the house. She was coming on incredibly strong tonight. She leaned all the way across the small table, getting real close.
She bit her lip, dropping her voice into a low, suggestive purr. "So, why they call you Big Bane?”
I smirked. “I used to be bigger than this.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhmm.” I was waiting for her to ask about my fitness journey, or for me to explain what I meant.
“Well... how big are you really? Because you look like you know how to handle some weight." Her eyes peered down to my lap.
I let out a lazy chuckle, tilting my glass. "Guess you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself."
I figured she'd just sip her wine and keep playing the game, but she had other plans. Before I could even blink, she slid clean out of her seat. She dropped straight under the long white tablecloth, crawling through the dark over to my side of the booth.
“Oh, you like to eat dick?”