23. Fontaine Jackson
My eyes snapped open at the buzzing of my phone. Nairobi was still asleep beside me, her breathing low and even, arm draped across my stomach like she’d claimed me in her sleep. I stared into the dark, trying to get my bearings.
Bzz. Bzz.
I blinked hard and reached for the phone, irritated because I could’ve sworn I’d put it on Do Not Disturb before I fell asleep.
Maybe: Saint Matthew’s Hospital, flashed across the screen with an unknown number.
Something in my gut twisted.
I answered on the next ring. “Hello?”
“Am I speaking with Fontaine Jackson?” It was a woman’s voice on the other end, professional and clipped enough to make me sit up.
“Yes.”
“I’m calling from Saint Matthew’s Hospital. You’re listed as an emergency contact for Andrea Jackson.”
My blood went cold.
“What happened?” My heart kicked up so fast it was hard to keep my voice steady.
“She was brought in with serious injuries from an explosion,” she said carefully. “She has some pretty serious burns, but is in stable condition.”
My mind went straight to Gunnar. “Her son—was there a child with her?”
“No. It was just her. Can you come in as soon as possible?”
“I’m on the way,” I said, already throwing the sheets off and grabbing my glasses.
Nairobi shifted beside me. “Babe?” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep.
“Give me a second,” I said as I stood.
I scrolled through my phone and my stomach tightened all over again seeing I had a bunch of missed calls.
Cash.
Jelani.
Mama.
I called my mother back first.
She answered immediately. “‘Taine,” she sniffled, I could hear she’d been crying.
“Mama, where are you?” I asked, grabbing my jeans off the chair.
“The hospital,” she said quickly. “Your sister?—”
“I know,” I interjected. “They just called me. Where’s Gunnar?”
I cradled the phone between my shoulder and ear while I pulled on my jeans. The room flooded with warm light when Nairobi turned on the bedside lamp. I squinted against it, trying to stay focused.
“He’s still at the house,” Mama said. “I called Ms. Linda from next door to come sit with him. He was asleep and I didn’t want to wake him up and get him upset.”
“Okay, okay.” I inhaled deeply. It didn’t fix the tightness that had settled into my chest, but it took one fear off the table. “I’m headed over there now.”
“Okay, son,” she whispered, voice trembling.
I hung up and dialed Cash.
“‘Bout time you answered,” he said as soon as he picked up.
“What the fuck is going on?” I asked, not ready to hear any more bad news. “I just got a call saying my sister’s in the hospital because of an explosion. Why you been blowing up my phone?”
Cash exhaled hard on the other end.
“The explosion… it was the safe house.”
“The safe house? The words didn’t make sense at first. Why would Drea be at the safe house, she shouldn’t even have known where it was. My mind tried to reject the truth until it couldn’t. “Slim?” My voice cracked on his name.
There was a pause long enough to confirm it before Cash spoke again.
“He’s gone, bruh,” Cash said, and his voice broke. “Would’ve been Drea too, but she was in her car.”
My fist clenched so hard I felt my nails dig into my palms. Heat rushed up my neck, bile burned in my throat. Beside me, Nairobi was sitting up now, fully awake and watching me intently.
“Cash…” My voice came out smaller than I wanted. “Don’t tell me this is Messiah.”
“We—” Cash cleared his throat. “Look, go see about your sister.”
“How the fuck we handling this, yo?” I snapped. “Drea… Slim. I’m not about to?—”
“Not on the phone,” he cut me off. “Me and Lani about to go see Slim’s grandmother. We’ll talk in person.”
There was a pressure building behind my eyes and it pissed me off more than anything—I couldn’t fall apart. I had to hold it together for my mama, my nephew.
“Alright,” I forced out.
I stood there, breathing hard like that would help me hold it together.
Nairobi sat up the instant I put the phone down. She crossed over to my side of the bed, and put her hand on my back, its warmth trying to anchor me even though the world was slipping.
“Bear?” she said softly.
“Slim’s dead,” I managed, my throat raw. “Drea was with him and got caught in an explosion at the safe house.”
Nairobi’s face shifted—shock first and then softened. She slipped off the bed and wrapped her arms around me.
“Oh, baby,” she murmured.
The first tear fell hot against my cheek, and I wiped it away quickly. “I’m good,” I lied.
“You’re not,” she said as she cupped my face. “And you don’t have to be.” There was no pity in her voice.
I swallowed and moved away from her. I pulled on a t-shirt and then my hoodie.
“I’m going with you,” she said, already pulling on her clothes. She moved with purpose.
“You don’t have to come.”
She stopped, her face twisted into a scowl. “I’m coming,” she said again. “Your sister is hurt and Slim was my friend too.”
End of discussion.
Saint Matthew’s was bright in that sterile hospital way. It felt too soon to be back in one when the baby shower incident had only been a month ago. The scent of antiseptic and industrial cleaner was so strong I could almost taste it while they checked my ID and sent us up to the burn unit.
My pulse refused to settle as we rounded the corner to the wing where Drea was. Nairobi’s hand found mine, as if she could telepathically sense my nerves.
“You got this,” she whispered as I knocked then pushed the door open.
Mama was in a chair at Drea’s bedside, head bowed in prayer. She still had on that black scarf she wore to bed, like she hadn’t had the energy to take it off. When she looked up, her eyes were swollen and red from crying.
My gaze went straight to my sister.
Drea was out cold—sleeping, sedated, I didn’t know what the appropriate term for this was.
Her right eye was swollen shut, bruises and cuts scattered across her face like she’d been through hell.
The burns were worse on her left side. Thick bandages started at her shoulder, ran down her arm, and wrapped across the top half of her torso.
The monitors' quiet, steady beeps filled the heavy silence in the room.
I let go of Nairobi’s hand without thinking and moved closer to the bed, stopping awkwardly because I didn’t know what was allowed. Touch her. Don’t touch her. Say something. Don’t say the wrong thing.
“They got her sedated,” Mama said, barely above a whisper. “She was screaming from all the pain.”
I nodded. Anger climbed up fast and useless, because there was nothing I could do here, and it didn’t change what was in front of me.
A knock came from the doorway and a doctor stepped in with a chart in his hand.
“Ms. Jackson? Mr. Jackson?”
“Yes,” I said.
“I’m Dr. Patel,” he said, glancing between us. “I want to update you on Andrea.”
Mama straightened and took Drea’s bandaged hand, holding it like she was her lifeline.
“She has second and third-degree burns on her left side. She also has a fractured wrist,” he explained.
“Right now, our focus is on swelling, pain control, and preventing infection. The next few days are mostly monitoring—keeping her stable, watching her vitals, and making sure the wounds stay clean.”
“How long before she wakes up?” I asked.
“Can’t say,” he said. “It really depends on what she can tolerate. When she wakes, she may be disoriented and agitated. Burn pain is intense, so be patient with her.”
He flipped a page, and his brows furrowed, then looked up again like he was figuring out how to say what came next.
“There’s something else,” he said carefully. “Were either of you aware that Andrea might be pregnant?”
Mama’s hand flew to her mouth. She looked at me like I was supposed to have an answer.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Son… did you?”
My gut twisted. “No,” came out rougher than I meant. Drea would’ve told me—at least I thought she would’ve. My mind started running through the last few weeks, trying to find something I missed.
I looked back at Dr. Patel. “How far along is she? Is the baby okay?”
“Early,” he said. “First trimester. We’re consulting OB, and the ultrasound we did shows the fetus is okay. Your sister’s recovery is the priority, but we’ll do everything we can for both.”
I nodded because I didn’t have anything else in me. I couldn’t do a damn thing but stand there and take all of this in.
“If she wakes up confused,” he added, “keep your voices calm. Remind her where she is. We take it hour by hour.”
When he left, the air in the room shifted. I suddenly felt very tired… One of my best friends was dead and my little sister was banged up and knocked up behind him. Mama kept rubbing Drea’s fingers between hers, her eyes fixed on my sister’s face like she could will her to wake up.
She looked up at me with a hard expression.
“Fontaine,” she said, “you need to fix this. You, Cash, Jelani—whoever. I don’t care who has to go, but you make this right.”
Mama knew what I was. She didn’t like it, but she’d accepted it. Still… hearing her say that beside my little sister made something twist in my chest.
Nairobi shifted closer at my side, and I remembered she was here too. Mama’s gaze went to her, slowly assessing; the way mothers do when they’re deciding what kind of woman is standing next to their son.
“And who’s this?” she asked.
This wasn’t how I imagined them meeting but here we were.
“This is Nairobi,” I said. “My girlfriend.”
Mama’s brows lifted, recognition flickering—because she’d heard the name before. She studied Nairobi for another moment.
“Ms. Jackson,” Nairobi said. “I hate that we’re meeting like this, but it’s nice to meet you.”
Mama’s shoulders dropped and she let go of Drea’s hand.
“Nice to meet you too, Nairobi,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m… I’m not myself right now.”
“I understand,” Nairobi replied. “And I’m very sorry about Drea. She’s going to make it through this.”
Mama’s eyes got watery again at that, and she nodded. She reached over and squeezed Drea’s bandaged hand.
“Thank you for coming with him,” she said after a beat, looking back up at Nairobi. “Fontaine… he acts like he’s made of stone, carrying the weight of the world, but he feels everything.”
Mama let out a shaky breath and looked back at me again. “I don’t want her to be alone when she wakes up, but I gotta get Gunnar,” she rubbed her temples. “Lord, what am I gonna tell that baby about his mama?”
I went over to her and rested my hands on her shoulders. “I’ll stay with her. You go home and get some rest.”
She opened her mouth like she was about to fight me on it but sighed and stood. She smoothed her clothes with trembling hands before leaning over and pressing a kiss to Drea’s forehead.
“Alright,” she said as she turned to me. “But call me the moment she wakes up. You hear me?”
“I got you, Mama.”