I smiled. I was sure it didn’t reach my eyes.
“Come here,” I said.
He backed up half a step. “Nah, I’m good right here.”
Chuckling, I moved closer. “I wasn’t asking.”
I fisted a hand in the front of his hoodie and yanked him off the car. His back hit the side panel with a hollow thud. His friends jumped but didn’t move in. Good. I wasn’t in the mood to beat all they asses.
“Jabali, chill. We in front of the store,” Deon pleaded.
“Then speak like you in front of the store. Not like you in some group chat with people who don’t correct you.”
My voice was calm. My grip was not.
“Man, you extra. Over some jokes?” he complained.
My eyes bored into his. “Nothing about my child or her mama is a joke. And you keep saying ‘town won’ like y’all did something. Like you bullied her into it. You didn’t. I did.”
He blinked. “That’s not a flex, my boy.”
“Oh, it is,” I said. “Because here’s what you not understanding. She could’ve kept that hill dark forever. It’s hers. Her land. Her name on them papers. The only reason them lights and trees going back up is ’cause she chose to let go of some shit that hurt her. That’s growth on her part. What you doing is running your mouth outside Dollar General in some ashy slides, like you still in high school.” I tightened my grip, pulled him a little closer. “And if you say ‘she folded’ again like she weak?” I went on. “I’ma unfold you myself. We clear?”
His eyes bounced from my face to my hand to the tattoo on my wrist he remembered from high school, now sitting on a bigger forearm.
“You threatening me?” he asked, trying to look tough. The tremble in his voice belied his stance.
“Threats are what you say when you might not do it. I’m telling you whatwillhappen. There’s a difference.”
His boy in the black beanie lifted his hands. “Jay, it ain’t even that serious. For real. We just talking. Folks been talking about her all year. You gon’ fight the whole town?” he asked.
“I don’t need to fight the whole town. Just the ones dumb enough to let my daughter hear them,” I corrected.
Deon shook his head. “Still weak over that b?—”
My fist slammed into his mouth, cutting off the word. He’d been asking for an ass whooping for a long time, and it was taking everything in me not to give it to him now. He tried to swing back, but two swift punches had him reeling, then subdued. The group went quiet.
I leaned in closer to Deon as he cupped his mouth.
“There’s a nine-year-old little girl living on that hill now. My daughter. You let her hear you calling her mama names acting like she some villain? I swear on everything I love, I will turn this friendly little conversation into something so bad your mind will wipe it out.”
“A’ight, man, I get it. I’ll chill,” he mumbled.
Behind me, a horn honked twice.
“Ay!” a familiar voice yelled. “Jay! Why you over here doing interrogations in the Dollar General lot? It’s Christmas!”
I didn’t have to turn to know it was Braeden. That fool’s voice carried across state lines. I let Deon go but didn’t step back.
“We clear?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, we clear. Damn, boy. You heavy-handed now.”
Braeden pulled his Challenger into the next spot, music bumping old-school R&B Christmas like we were at a block party. He hopped out, grinning.
“You over here making threats by the plastic wreaths, my guy? In Jesus’s season?”
I shook my head. “Mind your business.”
