“So, do you want me to handle this nigga or what?”
Without giving it another thought, she nodded.
“A’ight, cool.” Jovanis stood. “I’ll handle that shit but you gotta go back home.”
“Jovanis, no.” Her eyes expanded in terror. “Please let me stay here with you.”
He shook his head. “You can’t. I need you home, so you won’t be in the middle of this shit when it comes out. Being home is your alibi.”
“Alibi?” she repeated with a wrinkled nose. “What’s that?”
“It’s like when something happen, you can say you were home and nowhere near the situation. That way, you won’t get in trouble.”
“Ooh.” She slowly nodded. “Okay, I get it.”
Irish wondered how Jovanis knew all of this but remembered he had been under the care of his uncles since he was ten.
“Here.” He went over to his drawer and pulled out a knife. “Take this with you. Push your dresser in front of your door. Keep that knife under your pillow just in case he tries you, a’ight?”
She nodded, soaking in every word that left his lips. “Then what?”
“Just act normal. Don't do nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Okay.” She tucked the knife in the hem of her skirt.
“Now go’ head so I can plan this shit out. I don't want you asking me questions every ten minutes.” He smirked.
Irish gave him a small smile before she hugged him. “Be safe, okay?”
He nodded. “I’m always safe.”
Irish left his room and exited the house. His uncles were still on the porch, smoking and drinking when she walked toward her house. Irish’s stomach bubbled in anticipation. She couldn’t inhale a complete breath without her limbs shaking. How was she to act normal when she knew Jovanis was aboutto do something crazy to Emanuel? Walking inside her home, she saw Daisy on the couch with a sleeping Ivory next to her.
“Hey.” Daisy’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights. “How did it go?”
Irish was disgusted. She’d asked that question as if she’d come from her first dance or even had a first date. Instead, it was a gambling house where men preyed on young women—her husband included.
“Cool.”
“So, how much money did he win?”
Money? That’s all this bitch cares about? Not me…
“I don't know.” She headed toward her room.
“Irish, wait. Come back.”
She did no such thing. Irish continued to her room and closed the door. Afterward, she slid her dresser in front of the door and put the knife under her pillow. Her mind raced. She didn’t know what to think. So, she laid back in bed and waited until Jovanis called her.
The next morning…
Irish awoke to banging on the door. Bewildered, she looked around, waiting for her right mind to take over. When it did, she realized the dresser was in front of the door. Jumping from the bed, she hurried over and scooted it out of the way. Before she could twist the doorknob, the door was forcibly opened. Daisy’s eyes expanded, leaking tears.
“Someone killed him! Someone killed him!” she shouted.
“Killed who!”
“Emanuel! Someone killed my husband. My God! Why?” she wailed, falling to the ground.
