Chapter 11
The day was moving like syrup, slow, thick, and sweet, until her voice went tight.
We’d been on the phone while I was posted outside Chambers’ cousin’s spot. She was in The Nourish Nook, talking about strawberries like they were precious cargo. Laughing softly. I was riding that sound like a lazy river.
Then, silence. Not the regular kind. The air through the phone shifted. It got heavier, like static you could breathe.
“Bitch, we need to talk.”
That voice didn’t belong anywhere near my woman.
“Yo, baby…. who the fuck is that talking to you like that? Calling you out ya fucking name and shit?” I was already straightening in my seat, Chambers looking over, brows knotting.
And then she said it. Low. Like the name itself was poison.
“Kam.”
Everything in me turned red.
“This bitch-ass nigga Kam done pulled on my baby.” I growled, voice thick with fury. “Baby, yell for help. I’m on my way to you now. Fuck!”
I didn’t hang up. I just tossed the phone on speaker and mashed the gas. Chambers was already buckling in.
“You ’bout to—”
“Beat this nigga out the skin God gave him? Hell the fuck yeah.”
The street bent for me. I wasn’t talking metaphorically; it felt like the asphalt rolled itself flat, green lights bowing like they knew what time it was. Every pothole moved out of my way. The city had never cleared a lane for anybody, but tonight, she cleared it for me.
We were eating pavement, the engine roaring, wind slapping the sides. Chambers’ hand gripped the oh-shit handle, but he didn’t dare tell me to slow down. He fucking knew better.
Through the phone, it got loud: boots hitting tile, voices sharp. Then I heard it. Her voice, small but solid. “Get the fuck out my face.”
And then chaos. Movement. Her breath jerking like she’d been shoved. That muffled thud I’d know anywhere—fist on flesh.
“Jonay!” My own voice came raw, cracked, like I could drag her out of the phone line.
Then… nothing. Silence so loud it punched me dead in the chest.
“E, she blacked out,” Chambers muttered, scanning the GPS. “We two minutes out.”
Two minutes felt like a damn year. My jaw ached from clenching.
Every muscle in my forearm was flexed like I was already swinging.
I replayed every smile she gave me, every time she tucked her chin and tried to act like she wasn’t falling for me.
The thought of her lying there, hurt and scared, had my vision narrowing to a tunnel.
We pulled up crooked, one tire hitting the curb, and I was out before the car even stopped.
The Nourish Nook’s glass doors flew open for me like they knew better than to test me, like even the hinges didn’t want no smoke with the storm I was dragging in.
Inside smelled like cornbread and peaches, incense hanging thick like Sunday prayer, but all I tasted was iron, blood filling my mouth, and it wasn’t even mine yet.
Phones were out everywhere, customers recording, their cameras flashing like cheap lightning. The crowd shifted back as soon as I stepped through, whispers bouncing off the aisles. But my eyes didn’t see them. They searched past the glow of screens, past the gawkers.
And then I saw her.
Jonay.
On the ground by the fruit bins, guarded by two brothers from the store, like they knew somebody had to protect what that bastard had broken.
Her cheek was swelling, her lips trembling, and one eye was already starting to puff.
My heart stuttered, then sprinted. My chest caved in and erupted all at once.
That was my woman. My rib. My crown. My heart.
And some bitch-ass coward thought he could put his fucking hands on her?
That was when I saw him.
Kam.
Everything tunneled. My jaw locked. My fists clenched. My vision rimmed in red. Rage coiled in me like a live wire sparking loose.
The crowd felt it too.
“Oooh shit, this fine ass police ’bout to crash out in this bitch.”
“As he fuckin’ should. That bitch ass nigga put his hands on that pretty lil’ mama over there by the fruit.”
“I hope he fuck him up. I can’t stand 12, but that nigga was wrong as fuck.”
And Kam… that fool opened his mouth.
“Yo’ bitch ass can get the same shit she just got. I’m sick of you and yo’ bitch runnin’ ya fuckin’ mouth about me.”
That was it. Match struck. House on fire.
He swung first, wild and sloppy. And I thanked God for making him that dumb. Every camera caught it—him starting it. That was the only invite I needed.
I snatched his wrist mid-air, yanked him forward, and buried my fist in his chest so hard it made a hollow thump, like I knocked the wind he owed God clean out of him.
“Uhhhhn! Fuckkk!” Kam’s cry cracked, spit flying.
I didn’t stop.
Two to the ribs. Crack, crack! My knuckles sank into him, each strike sounding like dry wood splitting. He screamed high-pitched, ragged. “Gahhh, fuck! Nigga, ahh, shit!”
My knee shot up into his gut. Whump. His whole body folded in half like a busted lawn chair. “Huuughh, ahhh! Can’t—fuck—breathe!” His gasps were wet, desperate.
The crowd howled.
“Daaaamn, 5-0 got them hands!”
“Shit, couldn’t be me.”
“Getting ya ass whupped by 12 is crazy work, bruh, but ya bitch ass deserved that, puttin’ ya hands on a lady!”
“Who the fuck knew the PD was hiring Roy Jones, Jr. ’round this bitch!”
“Serves ya bitch ass right! Fucked up that fine ass lady face like that! Kick his ass some more, mayne!”
My blood pounded louder than their voices. I wasn’t hearing cheers. I was hearing her voice trembling in my memory. I was seeing her bruised face, swollen eye. My heart had been hurt.
I cocked my fist again, driving a hook so sharp it rattled up my arm. Crack. His head snapped, and spit and blood sprayed. He spun into the shelf of sweet tea. Bottles rattled like bones in a dice cup, one crashing down and busting open, tea spilling across the floor to mix with his blood.
“Ahhh, shit, shit! Stop! Nigga, stop!” Kam squealed, voice breaking like glass.
“Lawd, he baptizin’ that nigga in sweet tea!” somebody hollered.
“WorldStar finna eat this up!” Another laughed.
“Damn, can we call 12 on 12? He on his ass!”
“I ain’t neva, eva, eva, eva, rooted for a nigga in blue like this before! Go, Mr. Officer! Fuck him up, G!”
Chambers checked on Jonay first. “You alright, sis? Hold tight. I got you.” Now his boots were heavy behind me.
“E! Chill the fuck out! We got him!”
I dropped to my knees, hands cupping her swollen face like she was made of glass.
“I’m so sorry, gorgeous. Baby,… look at me, baby. I’m here now. You safe.”