“I’ll give a statement,” Janet eagerly spoke. “She’s a vicious thug and gang member. I want her charged.”
Carson stood against the JoyRide, a proud smirk on his face until he caught the redness on Emani’s cheek. Being that Janet, Joanna, nor Sandi would bust a grape, he knew the culprit. Emani shot him a look mixed with hurt and finality. She wasn’t ashamed of what she’d done. She didn’t care about how much money it was going to cost her to make it go away either. The time of her allowing people to play with her heart and kindness were over. The years of her playing small were over. Emani Rose was back – in love with not just herself but the man who was hers and back in her rightful place.
When she was booked in, she smiled at the camera with every flash. If her face was going to be blasted over everything, they’d remember that E. Rose beat ass with a smile on her face and if ever pushed to this point, she’d do it again.
25 /JAHLIL
He pacedthe lobby of the precinct. His nerves shot, his mind racing and the anger he could normally keep at bay rising. Andrew being arrested for using a card that he’d given him was complete bullshit.
“You Jahlil Savage?” a heavy, weathered voice questioned, halting Jahlil’s motion.
He pivoted, finding a middle-aged man, probably twenty years his senior, standing on the other side of the small fence in pressed dress pants and a quarter zip – in this Los Oceania weather.
After Jahlil finished his silent observation, his voice came out in a rumble of aggravation. “Whose asking? You or some nigga from the precinct?”
The man chuckled smugly. “District Attorney John Bernette. Your son can’t seem to stay away from my daughter. What is it that you do that you can’t keep a handle on that little thug?”
Jahlil’s brows pinned while his jaw clenched and nostrils flared. “Fuck you call him?”
“Thug. I’m looking at you and I see where he gets it from. I don’t care who you pimp or what drugs you’ve sold to end up in my neighborhood but keep that little nigga away from my daughter and we won’t have any more problems,” John spoke, closing the space.
Jahlil let a smirk dimple his cheek. “That ‘little nigga’ you speak of is a straight A student. He’s smart and respectable. Since we want to talk about people’s kids around this bitch, I suggest you keep a better eye on your daughter and she wouldn’t be at my house finding solace, love, and safety. I’m assuming you made the call to handcuff a thirteen-year-old boy and parade him around like he’s anything other than a child. You should get to know your neighbors. I’ll be sure to talk about this in my first press conference of the season. If you’re done swinging your dick, tell your officers to bring me my son before I make shit really fucking hard for you.”
“You threatening me?” John posed.
Jahlil swayed his head dangerously calm. “Never.”
John glared at Jahlil, trying to find anything that would indicate that Jahlil didn’t know who he was. There wasn’t anything there. Jahlil knew who he was and he’d learned how to network with the right people over the years. John stepped back, roamed over to the lobby officer, said something that Jahlil couldn’t make out before leaving.
Within the next ten minutes, a frightened Andrew was coming from the back with remorse piercing his orbs. Jahlil couldn’t stomach that. For now, it smothered his anger with Andrew’s sneakiness. Instead of anger Jahlil, lent him safety. He opened his arms and allowed his brother to amble into them and weep.
“I’m sorry,” Andrew cried.
In true father mode, Jahlil pressed his mouth against the top of his head and squeezed his shoulders. “You’re good, bro. You’re good. Wipe your face.”
Andrew swiped his face free of the tears.
“Shoulders back and hold your head up.”
Andrew followed suit.
“Let’s go home,” Jahlil rumbled, keeping Andrew close to him as they walked out. Jahlil expected the JoyRide to be waiting, instead, he found Ashton and Kyrie posted up against Kyrie’s SUV. “Hell, y’all doing here?”
“Back up in case we had to run up in there and break little bro out,” Kyrie stated. “Come on, Aunt Violet is worried out of her mind about you, boy.”
The ride home was long and quiet. When they arrived, Sanaa was pacing the floor in dress up heels, using a marker as her cigarette. Her eyes spotted Andrew and Jahlil and she blew a fake puff of smoke from her mouth and dropped the marker.
“Thank God for Jesus!” she exclaimed, running toward Drew and hugging his legs. “I thought you were going to be a jail nigga.”
Ashton tucked his lips and turned to Kyrie who was trying to muffle his laughter too. Andrew patted her back and gave her a lopsided smile. The less stress he showed her, the better.
“I’m good, Sanaa,” Andrew assured, spotting Aunt Violet come inside the house from her chain smoking.
Andrew’s eyes swelled when he found the worry in his aunt’s. She engulfed him and sighed in relief. “Don’t you ever do this shit to me again.”
“I won’t. I promise,” Andrew spoke, muffled.
She kissed the top of his head and looked up at Jahlil. “You two go get ready for dinner. You three, come with me.”
