Chapter 5
“I NEED YOU TO SING TO ME IN PERSON. MAKE ME REALLY FEEL THAT SHIT... “
N ajee hoped like hell that his parole officer had a life outside of work. If not, he’d be right back behind bars before the sun could rise.
His PO, a grumpy old white man with missing teeth on both sides of his mouth and a stomach that hung over his pants, had made the rules very clear.
Najee couldn’t indulge in drugs, be around any weapons, be affiliated with known felons, or have absolutely any run-ins with the law in any manner.
There were other stipulations, but those would’ve been the hardest to comply with, considering who his folks were and where he came from.
All of his niggas were either certified gang members, hustlers, felons, men with legal jobs but kept a gun on their waist, or all the above.
He’d heard “You trying to hit this?” so many times since stepping inside the party, Renae was about to tell their asses that no more weed was allowed on the property.
He couldn’t control who showed up to the block or who still carried heat in their waistband out of habit.
Too many of them would rather have it on them than not.
A lot of his folks, including his family, who brushed his stint off like it was nothing, weren’t bad people.
They’d just been in survival mode for so long.
Change was difficult. You could take a nigga out of the hood, but not the hood out of a nigga. Not a real one anyway.
After tonight, Najee promised to be on the straight and narrow. Thankfully, he could drink. He’d been sipping on Hennessy and Sprite from a foam cup since he arrived. Lazily, he grinned as Saleem tossed an arm over his shoulder.
“How you feeling?” Saleem asked.
“Real loved in this bitch.”
“Straight up. That’s the only way it should be. Renae did her thing.”
Najee nodded, agreeing as he took in the spot.
She rented out one of Juvie’s Lounges in the city and went all out.
Her first plan was to have his party at one of his uncle’s cribs, but she needed folks to go home when their reservation time was up.
Her man had a curfew, and she was going to make sure he stuck to it.
From the customized banners with his name to the framed photos of him back when he was free the first time, she had it looking like a birthday, welcome home, and anniversary wrapped in one.
There was even a gift table covered with presents.
Najee felt like it was a bit extra, but he let her rock. It felt good to be home and missed.
“Yeah, she did. Got auntie out of the house and everything,” Najee said with a smile in his voice.
His Aunt Joyce was sitting at a table with a few of his younger aunts and friends.
She couldn’t believe her eyes when he popped up on her on his second day out.
Like he knew she would, Joyce prepared a meal fit for a king and caught him up on all the things happening in her life.
They spent the entire day together, and he didn’t return home until his curfew.
While he was locked down, Najee rarely called her. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he knew it’d only make the time harder. She was his soft spot, so not being able to physically provide for her fucked with him mentally.
“You still thinking ’bout tying that down?” Saleem wondered.
Married life was treating him beyond good, and he wanted to see his nigga bask in it too. Only if he was serious, though.
Najee eyed the room for Renae. The way she’d been putting the pussy on him for two weeks straight, he was sure she was trying to get a ring out of him. Or a baby. Given the current state of his life, he wasn’t against either option.
He no longer had suspicions about what she’d been up to or why she had checked out on him.
Najee chalked it up to her being a woman.
Every relationship wasn’t peaches and cream, and he had to come to terms with that.
As understanding and forgiving as Renae had been, Najee saw it fit to make things official with her.
“Yeah. Maybe in the next six months or so, but I ain’t rushing it,” Najee said. “Niggas get married and want everybody to walk down the aisle.”
Saleem chuckled and shrugged. “Shit, why not? There’s only so many women, situationships, failed relationships, and heartbreaks a man can go through. Why not settle down and experience some real shit?”
“It’s peaceful, huh?” Najee wondered.
His faint smile and relaxed posture were the nonverbal answer. “Yeah... wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”
“Not even for some inheritance money?”
Saleem roughly shoved him. “Fuck you,” he spat, laughing.
The memory of Amira trying to leave him over a misunderstanding flashed through his brain and tightened his chest. That day had brought him to his knees, begging and pleading for her to let him clear his name. There wasn’t a price he’d take over her and his baby girl.
“Nah. I feel you, though. One day. Enough of all that sentimental shit. Pour up,” Najee said, grabbing the bottle from the table.
He poured them double shots before toasting and tossing them back.
“Welcome home, family. You walked that time down like a real nigga for a real reason,” Saleem said.
He said a lot without saying too much. His gratefulness for protecting his cousin that night was unwavering.
“Speaking of the reason... where she at? You told her to slide through, right?” Najee asked.
Saleem nodded. “Yeah. Knowing her, she probably chickened out.”
“Yeah, she owes me a song and shit. So probably. It’s all good. I’ma run into her soon.”
“Don’t get caught up.”
“Damn!” Najee exclaimed, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “A nigga can’t have friends?”
“Aye. You can have as many friends as you want. Just remember that Renae can too.”
That statement had made Najee flex his jaw. “Yeah, you right. This liquor got me trippin’.”
“Exactly, nigga.” Saleem laughed. “Walk around and mingle with your people. They missed you.”
They dapped each other up before Najee did just that.
People were drinking, laughing, dancing, and greeting him with hugs every time they caught sight of him.
Najee was reminded that moments like this could all be gone in the blink of an eye.
So, he cherished it before making his way to the upper level, where there wasn’t much of a crowd.
He leaned over the railing, taking it all in before pulling his phone out to snap a few pictures and record his younger cousins dancing and rapping to songs he knew they shouldn’t have known. Going to his messages, he bypassed all the welcome home texts and sent one to his sister.
Tell the DJ to play this.
He attached a screenshot of the song and locked his phone before sliding it into the pocket of his black denim jeans.
He watched as Nyesha strutted toward the booth in a dress that was so damn tight, it pissed him off.
She was grown, and his niggas knew better, but still.
Nyesha couldn’t help that she was thick.
Her size eighteen gorgeous body with dips, valleys, and curves made everything look skintight and good as hell.
“Special request from the man of the evening,” the DJ announced, before playing one of Najee’s new favorite songs. “Welcome home, G! Life is treating you great, my guy!”
The melodic bass of Life’s Great by Zillionaire Doe floated through the speakers as the DJ held his cup up in Najee’s direction. He mimicked the motion, taking a swig and bobbing his head. The lyrics hit harder when you could relate to them, and Najee felt every word.
The DJ kept the party hype, transitioning to songs that the crowd loved.
Feeling a presence coming his way, Najee glanced to his left.
Renae walked towards him, hips swaying in a pair of black leather pants that had him in a trance.
Her wavy blonde and brown bundles flowed down her back, while her lips were painted the prettiest shade of red.
Najee’s dick twitched, knowing they’d be wrapped around him later.
“What you doin’ up here by yourself?” she asked, slipping her arm around his waist. “Come celebrate, baby.”
Najee glanced down at her. “I’m chilling. Just needed a second.”
“I understand,” she said, brushing her hand across his chest. “You look so good tonight.”
He smiled. “Thank you, baby. I appreciate you for tonight.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
Leaning down, he gave her a kiss that showed her just how appreciative he was. It was heavy and sensual, matching the rhythm of the song now playing. Lyrics about being a dog and a mutt were exactly how Najee was feeling. His hand gripped her ass, and lips grazed her neck.
“Babe,” Renae half-giggled and half-moaned as he sucked on her neck. “Don’t put a hickey on me.”
“Let me suck on something else, then,” Najee requested.
She knew he was serious, and with the liquor in his system, Renae knew in a few minutes or less, he’d be trying to find an office or closet for them to sneak into. As good as that sounded, she could wait until they got home.
“Later,” she assured, pulling away some. Najee looked down at her with pure arousal in his eyes. Renae kissed his lips. “Promise.”
He ran a hand over his waves and stood straight. “A’ight.”
Downing the rest of his drink, his hand found the small of her back.
Renae swayed to the song playing and talked his ear off about some of his family.
She was surprised to see some of them. Najee was halfway listening when his full attention was summoned elsewhere.
He didn’t know what made him look toward the entrance of the lounge, but he was glad he had.
Orielle stepped inside the lounge with her girls in tow, garnering the attention of those close by. They were late, thanks to a wardrobe malfunction, but they were here. Their tardiness didn’t take away from their stunning presence or the greetings they received. Mainly Orielle.