Chapter 2
“I DON’T EVEN REGRET WHAT I DID.”
“ A ll I’m saying is, when you got a good one... you hold on to them,” Chuck rambled.
Najee had been listening to the old head talk for the past ten minutes. That’s all he seemed to do. Some days, it was bullshit, but today, Najee’s ears were wide open.
“Yeah? And if they not trying to be held onto, then what?”
“Well, then, shit.” Chuck chuckled before coughing roughly.
All those years of smoking were catching up to him.
Between the tobacco, the unpleasant smell of body odor, and the pissy floors, it was inevitable not to be interrupted while conversing.
The lackluster cleaning didn’t aid the pungent smell trapped in the walls either.
Chuck was used to it, though. The repeat offenders always were.
That’s why he had no problem spitting what he considered game to Najee, just as he had done so many times before to other cellmates.
“Guess you gotta let her go,” Chuck finished. “We be behind these bars and the only thing we can rely on are people’s actions. Words don’t mean shit up in here.”
Words didn’t mean much to Najee outside of here either. A person could talk all day about what they would do, but if there was no motion behind what they were talking about, Najee preferred for them to stay quiet.
Renae, his girlfriend of five years, had made her silence known.
She’d been moving weirdly for a few weeks now, and Najee couldn’t place his finger on what the hell was up.
He understood getting locked up was emotionally and mentally taxing, but he also let her know that if staying with him was too much of a burden, she could move on.
He wasn’t in the business of keeping someone somewhere they didn’t want to be.
It didn’t matter that they were in a relationship, Najee didn’t want her to feel like just because he was locked up, that she was too.
“Yeah, I hear you,” Najee mumbled, sitting on the lower bunk.
“Is you listening, though?” Chuck asked, standing across from him. Trust me, youngin’, I’ve been in your position. My ol’ lady done gave me chance after chance. At some point, I had to just let her be free.”
“‘Cause you couldn’t get your shit together?” Najee questioned, already knowing the answer.
Chuck nodded. “Mhmm. Damn right I couldn’t. Look at where I’m at... again. Don’t nobody wanna put up with that shit, but some women do. Their love for us men outweighs our flaws. That doesn’t mean they won’t or don’t hold some resentment.”
That’s what Najee didn’t want to happen.
Renae could tell him all day that everything was fine, but he felt otherwise.
He had too much time on his hands to think, and her reassurance wasn’t hitting like it used to.
Najee was a problem solver, so the fact that he couldn’t fix this, and from where he was at, bothered him.
“I ain’t trying to have that,” Najee said.
“Well, you better figure some shit out. You get out real soon.”
It was a weekly reminder. Had his probation officer been more understanding and not reported his violation, Najee would’ve been a free man. The politics of it all is what pissed him off, but he was doing his time like a G. There wasn’t shit else he could do.
Picking up the piece of paper with numbers scribbled across it, Najee contemplated his next move.
His fingers brushed across the smeared ink, wondering what made her want him to reach out now after he’d already done it twice.
He wasn’t the handwriting letters type of man, but he figured Orielle would’ve appreciated it since she was a songwriter and all.
“Damn girl didn’t even write back,” he mumbled and smirked.
Her pretty smile popped into his head, and then her voice did.
She entered Najee’s dreams plenty of nights.
Singing her heart out, belting words that only he could identify.
It was torturous and somewhat relieving.
Najee didn’t blame her, but her tear-stained cheeks and pained voice turned those sweet dreams into nightmares.
“Whoever that is got you in a chokehold,” Chuck observed. “If you don’t call them, I will.” He reached for the paper.
Najee chuckled. “Watch out,” he said, swatting his hand away.
“You been lookin’ at that phone number for the last few days like they gon’ hop off of it and talk to you.”
Najee lowkey wished Orielle could. He could take a hint. If he' hit her line and got ignored again, she wouldn’t have to worry about him at all.
“You remember ol’ girl I told you about?” Najee asked.
Chuck nodded. “The reason why you in here?”
Najee’s jaw ticked.
“Don’t do that,” he muttered.
“Don’t do what? Tell the truth?”
It wasn’t Najee’s truth, but Chuck believed it to be.
“It wasn’t her fault,” Najee defended.
“Maybe, maybe not. But you still took up for a woman who only wrote you back once. Shit, you better than me.”
Najee wanted to tell his old ass that he was better than him, but was he really? They were sharing the same cold ass cell, had on the same clothes, and slept on the same flat ass mattress. Najee’s morals were different from a lot of men. He learned that at a young age.
It wasn’t just about what he did, but why he did it. She didn’t ask him to step in that night. She didn’t beg him to put himself on the line, but she didn’t have to.
He saw her face and that look in her eyes.
And yeah, maybe it wasn’t his business… but he made it his.
Just like he had as a kid, protecting his mother.
“I wasn’t gon’ sit back and not do anything,” Najee finally said.
“I get that,” Chuck said. His voice was low and understanding. “You saw her in a moment, and your instincts kicked in. That ain’t wrong. That’s who you are.”
Najee let out a heavy breath.
“I don’t even regret what I did,” he said lowly. “Just regret putting myself back in here.”
Chuck nodded slowly, the lines on his face deepening. “Times almost up, though. Make that shit count. What you mention her for?”
“She hit up one of my partners the other day,” he finally admitted. “Told him to give me her number.”
Chuck smirked. “Word?”
“Yeah. That’s whose number this is.”
Najee looked down at the number again, contemplating. Damn. Is it cheating if I hit her up?
“Well, what the hell you sittin’ here talkin’ to me for?” Chuck questioned.
“You right,” Najee said, chuckling.
“Damn right I am. She must got something she wanna say. A woman ain’t reaching out for no reason. She must care.”
“You sound real optimistic for somebody who keep fucking up and ending up in here.”
Chuck shrugged and laughed, a deep raspy sound that echoed through the small space.
“Whatever, man. I’ma be back in the free world in a minute. Optimism don’t die in here. It just gets a little quieter.”
Najee stood up, stretching his arms above his head.
“I feel that. I’ll holla at you after I make this call.”
“A’ight, youngin’. Go tell that girl you still remember how she smells,” Chuck called after him jokingly. “And don’t fumble your words either.”
“Never that,” Najee said, heading out of the cell.
The phone area was damn near empty, just how he liked it.
He hated making calls with too many ears around.
It always felt like everyone heard his business.
Reaching for the receiver, he punched in the number.
As the phone rang, Najee’s heart thudded.
By the fourth ring, he was about to hang up, but then the line connected.
He announced himself and was somewhat relieved that she accepted.
“Hello?”
Orielle’s voice was soft but had an edge of curiosity.
“What’s up, RiRi?”
She sucked in a quick gasp, hoping he didn’t hear her. Silence filled the line for a beat.
“Najee... hi.”
Caught off guard, though she asked for him to call, Orielle’s voice cracked with her greeting.
“You sound like you weren’t expecting my call. You got somebody else calling you collect?” He joked, mouth curving at the corners. Shit, I hope not.
She laughed, breathy and nervous. He could hear her smile.
“No, I don’t. You just caught me off guard, but I’m glad you called.”
“How you been?” he asked, leaning against the wall.
Her pause was short but needed.
“I should be asking you that, but I’ve been good. Better. Today is a good day. How are you?”
“As good as I can be up in here. You wanted me to call you?” Najee asked.
He wasn’t trying to beat around the bush and prolong the inevitable. On the other end of the phone, Orielle inhaled a quick breath.
“Um, yeah,” she said and cleared her throat. “A lot went on after that night, and I never got to truly apologize and thank you.”
Najee nodded, looking over his shoulder. “Yeah. Everything was moving fast.”
“Yes, it was, and I just want to thank you for what you did and to apologize for putting you in that position. I wish things had ended differently,” Orielle said.
“You don’t owe me that,” Najee said.
Orielle’s brows creased. “An apology?” she wondered.
“Yeah. That shit that went down wasn’t your fault, so you don’t have to keep blaming yourself. I’m not mad at you.”
Najee heard her exhale through the phone.
“Even after I didn’t write you back again?”
“Nah,” Najee said, chuckling. “I wasn’t mad. You had me fucked up, though. I just wanted to check on you.”
His words were spoken light-heartedly, making Orielle smirk. “I know, and your words were appreciated. I promise. Life was overwhelming, and I shut down. Isolated myself from everything and everyone.”
“I understand completely. That’s what you gotta do sometimes. The people who are meant to be in your life when you’re ready to pop back out will be there waiting.”
Orielle’s breathing was slow and deep as she took in his words. “You’re absolutely right.”
She wondered if that’s how he felt about the people in his life while doing time, but she refrained from asking. There was something about hearing his voice that calmed and unnerved her altogether.
“How’s your music going?” Najee asked.
Orielle drew her head back. “Um, it’s going really good, actually.”
“Why you pause like you didn’t want to tell me?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to ask me that.” Orielle chuckled nervously. “Like you’re interested in my life.”
Najee caught himself smirking. He was interested in anything outside of those jail walls. Specifically, the soft-spoken woman who ignored his letters and had the voice of an angel. If he didn’t give a fuck, she’d know.
“Had you read my other letter, you’d know I was.”
Orielle groaned. “I know you’re not going to hold that against me. I said I was?—”
“I know. I’m just fucking with you, Pretty Girl. When I get out, you gotta let me hear your new shit.”
There he went again with the unexpected; calling her a phrase of endearment she wouldn’t mind hearing fall from his lips beyond today. Orielle had read his letters more than she’d ever admit aloud. Najee didn’t need to know that, though.
“When is that?” she asked.
“Soon.”
She wanted him to give a specific date. Soon could’ve meant next week or next month.
“Okay. I’ll let you listen then. Whenever soon is,” she joked, making Najee smirk. He was going to hold her to that, and he let her know it.
“A’ight, RiRi. I’ma hold you to that. It was good hearing your voice.”
Orielle blushed at the nickname assigned by him.
Najee had given it to her so unexpectedly, in his casual type of way, that it made her look at him beyond her cousin’s best friend.
Hearing him say it again a year later unlocked the core memory from her younger days.
A time when she realized Najee was her first real crush.
That was years ago, though. Crushes weren’t meant to last long, especially when one of the parties was in a relationship and behind bars.
“It was good to hear yours, too. Don’t get into any trouble in there. You gotta get out and hear me sing,” Orielle advised.
Laughing, Najee nodded. “I got you. Keep your new shit reserved for me.”
Blushing, Orielle promised to do just that. Najee had no clue that the song she penned earlier in the week had his name and memory laced through every lyric.
“That’s asking for a bit much,” she teased. “But I guess I can do that.”
“’Preciate that,” Najee said, chuckling. “I’ma let you go so you can enjoy the rest of your day.”
She wanted to talk longer and savor this moment but reluctantly let him go.
“You enjoy yours, too.”
Orielle didn’t know what it was like in jail, but she genuinely hoped he had a good day.
He deserved to even behind bars. When he hung up, Najee’s chest was full in a way it hadn’t been since he got locked up.
It was a crazy feeling, considering the circumstances.
He couldn’t help but wonder if Orielle was the good person Chuck mentioned holding onto.
With the way things were looking and the way he was feeling, she just might’ve been.