Demi nodded but couldn’t find words. He simply walked to one of the awaiting SUVs.
“Where to, Mr. Sky?”
“Anywhere but here,” Demi said. “You mind if I light up?” he asked.
“Handle your business, sir,” the driver said. Demi had been working with the car service for years with his company. He was grateful for the understanding. He found himself at the graveyard anyway, and he just stared at the hole in the ground where his son would rest. He trapped himself in that car, smoke filling the air, mind floating, heart sinking until he was numb. He was the first one there because everyone else was sitting through the pomp and circumstance of the funeral. He got good and high in the back of the SUV.
“I’m sorry for your loss, sir,” the driver said.
“Appreciate it, potnah,” Demi replied. “People think it helps. They say sorry, but it doesn’t change a damn thing. It just reminds a nigga that he down bad.”
“I’ve been there. I lost my son ten years ago. He was gunned down off Pierson Road. Hanging out in the streets and caught a stray bullet at the car wash right there off Clio Road. I still remember what it felt like when I got the call. It’s a club that I wouldn’t wish on no man, but when I see another brother join up, my condolences are from the heart, young buck. Sometimes you two seconds off checking out of here, and the random interruptions be the only thing to interrupt the insanity.”
A renegade tear broke free, but Demi’s thumb made magic of it, instantly causing it to disappear.
“Thanks, man.”
They sat there in silence as Demi watched the gravediggers clear the plot in preparation for his son. Two hours passed before he saw the processional enter the grounds. He exited the truck and watched as the pallbearers, Day included, carried his son toward the hole in the ground. Demi tapped Lauren’s cousin and took his place as he and Day led the way toward DJ’s final resting place. The casket wasn’t that heavy, but it felt like he was carrying an elephant. Every step felt like he was trudging through mud. It was the slowest, most torturous journey he had ever taken. It was below zero outside, but Demi couldn’t feel the frigid temperature. He was already frozen before stepping out into the elements. They placed DJ on the platform that hovered above the grave and then stepped back so that Nyair could give the final eulogy and prayer.
“Why would you leave me to do that alone?” Lauren hissed as he took his place beside her. “You’re never there when I need you. Where were you when he needed you? You take care of every other person around you. What happened to taking care of home? I’ll never forget the way you moved on me, Demi. Leaving my baby here, in this hole, when he should be alive and well at home with us. I’ll never forgive this.”
“I’ll never forgive myself, Lo. What else you got? What other fucked-up shit you need to get off your chest? Today of all days.”
Lauren lowered her eyes, and when she looked back up at him, he saw her plight shining in her eyes like it was playing on a movie screen.
“We have to leave him, Demi,” Lauren bawled. “This is why I didn’t want to bury him because I knew I wouldn’t be able to walk away.” She wasn’t the type of mom who spent a lot of time away from her child. She hadn’t done the babysitting thing. She had never spent any real time apart from DJ. She was hands-on. From the day he had been born, he had become her little best friend. Where she went, he would follow, and when he wasn’t in her eyesight, he was with his father. Driving away from this cemetery was going to feel like abandonment.
“I know,” Demi answered. He took her hand in his and she cowered against him as they said their final goodbyes.
Chapter 11
Stassi stood off to the side. Somehow, seeing Demi holding Lauren’s hand, doting over her so tenderly, made Stassi feel like she was complicit in a conspiracy against Charlie. She couldn’t say that they were doing anything wrong. Their pain, this day, just felt like theirs. Like it was one they would mark on their calendars like a wedding anniversary—this death date was reserved for them. They presented like family, and she didn’t blame them for that, but it was awkward. She was straddling a fence, and it didn’t feel good. Her eyes landed on Day, and her stomach sank when she saw Kiara Da’vi discreetly wrap her pinky finger around his. He gave her a hug and then whispered something in her ear before the popular singer moved along. The body language was telling, and Stassi couldn’t unsee it.He’s definitely fucking that bitch,Stassi thought.This wasn’t the time and place to address it. In fact, she wasn’t sure she had any cause to address it. He wasn’t her man, but Stassi made a mental note. Day was too famous and too used to his routine of rotating women. She didn’t have time or the desire to play games. She could feel herself becoming disinterested, just off the assumption that he was involved elsewhere. The last thing she needed was to have her business blasted all over the blogs again. Kiara was a young artist. She lived for internet clout. Stassi preferred to keep her happenings private, especially anything concerning Day. He was too high profile, and too many women lusted after him. Assoon as she posted any indication that he could possibly be on her roster, the hens would come pecking. There was nothing that could humble a bitch more than posting a nigga on social media. She had a feeling that if the world ever got wind of whatever it was they called themselves doing, that hoes would come out the woodwork to burst her bubble. For that reason alone, Stassi kept her distance. There were too many relevant faces at this funeral, and she was determined to retain a level of privacy.
When the service was over, Lauren approached. Stassi was taken completely by surprise when Lauren hugged her tightly.
“Thank you so much. I will never be able to repay you for the kindness you’ve shown me this week. You didn’t owe me this. You did a beautiful job for my baby,” Lauren said. She was still so emotional that her nose ran. Lauren sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“You don’t need to thank me. I’m glad it met your expectations,” Stassi replied.
“You’re welcome to come back to the house for the repass. The least I can do is feed you,” Lauren offered.
“I’m sorry, I really do have somewhere I need to be, but I’ve made sure everything at your house is prepared. The caterer, the housekeeper…all that. You and your family won’t have to worry about anything for a few days.”
“We should get back,” Demi said.
Stassi’s eyes searched the crowd for Day only to find him climbing into the back of an SUV behind Kiara.
She scoffed. One minute, he was begging on stage for her time, the next, he was entertaining someone else. One thing was for certain, she wasn’t chasing him, and she wasn’t going to compete for his time. She believed in letting a nigga choose. She would react accordingly.
She sighed and made her way back to her car. Demi and Lauren were so well respected that there were over a thousand people in attendance. The number of cars coming in and out of the church was ridiculous, and the one-road cemetery was even worse. She climbed into her car and dialed Charlie’s number. The phone rang through her blue tooth as she pulled into the line of traffic. She saw the fire truck and one police car ahead. “Thank God Nyair pulled some strings to help with this traffic.”
When she saw him, their eyes connected instantly, and she hit her brakes abruptly. She wasn’t quite sure why or how the smile formed on her face, but the one he returned made her giddy. He walked over to the car, and she rolled down her window.
“Grayson, right?”
“She remembers,” he said as he motioned for the cars behind her to go around.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
