Chapter 27 Jahlil
“You haven’t said anything since the shower.” Emani’s voice was soft, that’s what he needed right now, softness. Jahlil’s body was stretched out over the lounge chair of the balcony adjacent to his bedroom. One leg hung off, foot planted on the smooth concrete and a hand behind his head.
Her touch followed her voice. Causing him to open his arms and receive her.
Emani was lathered in some cocoa butter he kept at all times, because when she met him she called him ashy, his oversized t-shirt, and a pair of basketball shorts.
She took her position beside him, offered her leg as a weighted blanket over his waist and spoke again.
“What’s happening in there?”
Jahlil pulled in a deep breath, held it and released it.
Until now, he’d been passively breathing but the weight of Emani on him made all those emotions bubble to the surface.
“The only thing playing in my mind right now is how it’ll kill me to have them take him from me.
From the beginning until now, I can’t see myself being anything other than his protector and he can’t seem to get that through his head, Rose.
He’s thirteen and damn near six foot. They don’t see a kid when they look at him, they see a grown ass man.
I’m raising him to be everything I wasn’t.
Trying to give him some fuckin’ structure because I never had none.
“I had a momma who wasn’t mentally present, self-medicated and left me to be the man of the house and all that was before she even lost her mind for real.
I keep that shit away from him. I don’t ever want him to know that terror.
That trauma. I’m not going to let him fight like I had to.
I can’t do it. I can’t disrespect my momma like that, no matter how she turned out. ”
“I hear you. Maybe he needs to hear it to understand. At thirteen, I thought I had all the answers,” Emani laughed bitterly. “I didn’t.”
“At thirteen, we didn’t have no one looking out for us for real. We didn’t have no structure either. Just some ghetto kids running around trying to make something out of nothing,” Jahlil replied.
Emani looked up at the stars that hung in the Los Oceania fall sky. “That’s crazy how we were ten blocks away from each other, only to meet at freshmen orientation. I’ll never forget that day. You looked so scared. Like if college didn’t shake the way it was supposed to…”
“I was going to be back on the streets with Andrew. They were going to take him from me. I was scared as fuck. And I still have some residuals from that. Going back to the streets now is not in the picture but failing him – failing Sanaa. I can’t do it.”
“You won’t,” Emani soothed. “One thing I know is that you’re a damn good father. Like you were made for it. Andrew will get it and I’m sure Sanaa knows it.”
“Be prepared, she’s going to lose her mind when she sees you in the morning. Your mugshot had her chain smoking markers. The red one to be exact,” Jahlil said with a scoff of laughter. “She acts like my mother. On those good days. She cusses too. That’s Aunt Violet’s fault.”
“She’s a good cusser?”
“Too good to be four,” Jahlil muttered. “I’m going to start washing her mouth out with soap.”
Emani laughed softly. “No you’re not. You don’t even yell at her, I bet.”
“Can’t do it. It’ll hurt me too bad. I put her in timeout once and I thought I was going to have a panic attack.”
Emani covered her face and laughed before wincing, forgetting about the bruise on the side of her face. Jahlil moved her hand and studied it. His jaw tightening. “I’m fine. Don’t dwell too much on it. What do you need?”
“This right here.” Jahlil held her tighter and softly kissed her face. “This is all I need. Sorry I wasn’t there.”
“Don’t apologize for being a father,” Emani spoke. “I expect nothing else. If you wouldn’t have left, I’d be looking at you differently. You’re a father first and I understand that. If it were the other way around, I’d want you to understand that too.”
“You ever considered that? Being a mother?”
Emani shook her head. “Not with any of them and I made sure it wouldn’t happen. With you? Not a question.”
Jahlil hummed. “What about your career?”
Emani sighed, closed her eyes and scoffed.
“This scuffle is going to end my contract. I know it. I was already behind on my album. It was supposed to be turned in a year ago but fighting with that nigga every day was fucking my head up. So this will officially be three labels in seven years. I don’t know if my career is going to be able to bounce back from that.
So I don’t know. What I know is that I’ve given up a little piece of myself every year and I don’t want to do that anymore. ”
“I won’t have you give up your dream to sit in the house and carry my kids.
I’m not doing that to you. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve only wanted a family with you.
It hasn’t panned out that way but it’s still my end goal.
I won’t have you sacrifice yourself for me.
You did that before and I understand that’s how you love.
But you should never love someone who won’t pour back into you.
I’m not going to suck the life from you.
I’m going to pour into you. I might be seven years late but I’m here and the bullshit is over. ”
Emani snuggled into him. “You still love me?”
“I never stopped, Rose. My love for you was what drove me home.”
Her hand found the side of his face and Jahlil welcomed that touch. The kiss to his lips wasn’t a precursor for anything else. Just a soft reminder that their home had been each other.
“I love you too.”
“I know. Crazy that I felt that this whole time, even when you were pissed off.”
“Me being pissed off was a dead give away,” Emani said laughing softly. “You got to be the only man on this planet to make me mad for years.”
“You should know that Andrew reminded me that I had you messed up. That first year and a half, he cried for you almost every day.”
“I did too. I missed my guy.”
“Damn, what about me?” Jahlil joked.
Emani half yawned to reduce the pain in her face. “Boy, shut up. You know I missed you. Before you go whip Malik’s ass, can you lay with me?”
“I wa-”
“Ashton, Kyrie, and Carson haven’t left.
I know what’s up. Make sure you remember who you are and don’t leave a trace,” Emani cut him off before sitting up.
“You don’t need to lie to me about shit.
I’d rather know and deal with it instead of being blindsided.
Okay? I don’t care what it is or how bad you think it’s going to hurt me. Respect me enough to tell me.”
“I got you.”
“Thank you. Come put me to sleep, without your dick, my back hurts,” she stated, roaming back into the bedroom. Jahlil climbed into the bed behind her, wrapping her in his safety and gingerly kissed her face and rubbed her back.
“I’ll have someone come and give you a massage.”
“Your hands broken?”
He chuckled. “You know how that ends up.”
“It ends up how it ends up. You got the touch. That’s what I need.”
“I got you then. No complaints when I got you folded,” he hummed, feeling her drift.
“I won’t have one. I’ve been praying for this. I’m not going to complain about answered prayers.”
Within an hour, Emani was sound asleep and Jahlil was pulling his sleeping arm from under her.
Before he tucked her in tightly, he rubbed her bareness.
She’d wiggled out of the shorts and tangled her legs around his.
He loathed pulling himself out of her web but he believed the most effective ass whipping was done while it was fresh.
Dressing in all black to include a pair of black leather gloves he kept tucked away for times like these, he looked in on his kids sound asleep and jogged down the stairs.
His trio of friends, dressed the same, were lounging around waiting for the command.
“Let’s ride,” Jahlil spoke with authority and roamed to the garage.
Carson was the driver, Ashton in the passenger seat and Kyrie and Jahlil sat in the back.
“Where is he?” Jahlil asked.
“Strip club,” Carson shared.
Ashton scoffed. “Nothing screams I want my ass beat than to be at the strip club after you let your baby momma be whopped by her son’s god mama.”
Carson snickered. “Can’t wait for the office to open so we can cancel that lease.”
Jahlil frowned then laughed in disbelief. “Who’s name is it in?”
“Emani’s credit is A plus, I made sure of it.
Malik ain’t paid shit in that house since the first year.
His money has gone to strippers and gambling.
The nigga hasn’t even taken care of his kid.
Emani has been covering everything,” Carson responded.
“The proposal wasn’t just to get her from you but to have more access to her money. ”
“This nigga,” Jahlil grumbled.
“I made some calls. Guess who this nigga was gambling with? The 60th Street Vultures. The only reason they didn’t touch him is because Lucci said no one touches nothing close to E. Whole time this nigga was being spared and walking around here arrogant as fuck,” Ashton informed.
“Well, I’ll let Lucci know I handled his light work,” Jahlil stated.
When the group arrived to Crave, they waited until they spotted Malik staggering out with a woman under his arm.
While Jahlil played ball professionally, his friends kept their ties to the streets and the neighborhood intact.
For moments like this when a message needed to be delivered without a trace left.
The club’s cameras were killed, when Azul Hearts from Volts arrived to finish the job, there would be no evidence.
Ashton was the first to jump out. Yes, he played a lot but he didn’t play about Emani or Donnée. Malik putting his hands on her was the final strike. He quickened to the pair and looked at the woman up and down. A plant, a 60th Street Vulture herself.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Ashton spoke cooly, handing her a stack. “Tell them niggas around the corner we’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
She nodded and pranced away.
“The fuck you on, nigga?” Malik slurred.
“What’s good,” Jahlil rumbled. The question wasn’t answered fast enough to beat Jahlil’s gloved fist to the side of Malik’s face. “That’s where you hit her? Right there? Is that where he hit her, C?”
Carson looked at Malik, who fell against his car. “Iono, I think it was a little bit to the left.”
Jahlil grabbed him by the collar and punched him again. “Right there?”
“Nah, to the right,” Carson muttered.
Jahlil punched him again and again and again. “I think he looks better with matching black eyes.”
“Me too,” Kyrie spoke from the back, spinning a bat in his hand. “Match that shit, Savage.”
Jahlil repeated his actions, Malik muttered something incoherently but it fell on deaf ears. When Malik was too weak to stand up, Jahlil shouted. “Stand up, nigga! I saw that footage. You can hit a woman but can’t fight a man? Bitch ass.”
Jahlil held his hand out for the bat and Ashton placed his hand on the hood.
“Aim right, don’t miss like your free throws. Can’t dent up this ride,” Ashton directed.
Jahlil slammed the bat against Malik’s hand, causing Malik to shout in pain. “Damn it, man. That’s not his punching hand.”
Ashton snapped his fingers. “You right. He hit her with the right. My bad, Savage.”
Placing the right hand on the hood, Jahlil slammed the bat down on it with all his might repeatedly, until he heard the bones crack. “Ky, you think he can hold his son with that?”
Kyrie shrugged. “What does it matter? He ain’t did shit with the little nigga in about three years. What’s a couple more months?”
“I like it when you right,” Carson spoke, snapping his fingers. “I think both hands need to match his face. Let Volts have his legs.”
Jahlil nodded. “Got to leave something for the Vultures.”
Ashton picked up his left hand and placed it on the hood. Jahlil repeated his actions until the bones cracked and his fingers curled.
“That’s time,” Carson called.
Malik laid on the ground, groaning in pain. Jahlil squatted down and smirked. “The next time you think coming up against me is a smart move, check my resume, nigga. See you at practice Tuesday? No? Don’t worry, I’ll hold the team down for you. Don’t worry about it, nigga. Get well soon, my guy.”
With that, Jahlil stood and strolled away. “Come on before my lady and my kids get up looking for me.”