I didn't say nothing, but my fingers curled under the table. My jaw locked. I hated how close death still felt. Hated how easy it was for them to talk around it like it wasn't my blood that soaked the pavement. Jules swallowed. "Mann, to make a long story short," he said slowly, "the nigga want my family. My wife. My kids. My life. The nigga wanna be me but he can't." Pops raised an eyebrow at that. Small but I caught it. He always saw more than he let on. He looked at Mama like he was waiting to see if she'd react. Mama didn't.
She just hummed. Low. Noncommittal. "So what y'all gon' do about this problem?" Saint asked, voice calm, eyes shifting to Juste. That was it. The pressure in my chest turned sharp. "I say y'all let me go over there and wet that bitch up," I said, already reaching for my gun. The metal felt familiar. "I'm talkin' everybody. They mama's mama. They babies, nigga." I cocked it and set it right there on Mama's table. The sound echoed too loud in my ears All I could see was red. Pierre let out a laugh that didn't have no humor in it. "Y'all better take that nigga gun."
"Nigga y'all always tryna take my gun," I snapped back. "I don't give a fuck about y'all takin' my gun. That's one fuckin' gun out of plenty." I felt my pulse in my neck, my temples. Pierre laughed harder. Stupid. He knew I was already past calm and kept poking anyway. "Noles," Juste growled, standing up. His chair scraped the floor loud. "Get that mutha fuckin' gun off my mama dining table." He stared at me hard, eyes dark. "Look here, You gettin' on my fuckin' nerves actin' like you ain't got no sense." I waved that nigga off. "Ain't nobody doin' shit until after this casino openin this weekend," Juste continued, voice steady but dangerous. "After that, we solve this problem the same way we solve any other problem. Until then, chill the fuck out. We got too much money invested."
I smacked my lips, turning away. "So we just gotta sit on our hands like a bunch of bitches?" I shot back. "This that hoe shit I be talkin' about, Jus. Man, fuck that."
"Noles," he said calmly, "don't play with my fuckin' money." His eyes never left mine. That calm pissed me off more than yelling would've. "Now y'all wait one goddamn minute," Mama snapped, slammin her hand on the table. The sound cracked through the room. "Y'all can stop all that ignorant ass cussin' back and forth at my damn table. The hell wrong with y'all?" Silence fell. I finally picked the gun back up, slidin it into my waistband. My hands shook just a little, and that made me even angrier. I leaned back in my chair, starin at the ceiling. waiting felt like dyin all over again.
Every second I sat still felt like my skin didn't fit right. like my bones wanted to crawl out my body and go do what my mind already decided. I could feel myself changin'. Hardenin. Sharpenin. Whatever that coma took from me, it replaced withsomethin' colder. Meaner. I was becoming a mutha fuckin' demon while I waited.
"And how come that wife of yours can see so much all of a sudden, huh?" Mama's voice cut through the room sharp enough to make my head snap forward. My jaw tightened instantly. My fingers flexed like I was ready to flip the table over. "Not the time, Mama," Juste jumped in quick, voice firm, warnin.
Too late. My chest burned. Heat crawled up my neck. I could already feel the words linin up on my tongue, ugly ones. Disrespectful ones. The kind that turn into hands flyin and furniture breakin. I leaned back hard in my chair instead, pullin out a cigar with a slow, deliberate motion. If I didn't keep my hands busy, I was gon' put 'em on somebody. I cracked open a bag, dumped the weed out on the table, started breaking it down piece by piece. The ritual calmed me just enough not to explode. "Baptiste is her brother," I said flat. The words landed heavy. The room shifted.
"What the hell you talkin' 'bout, Noles?" Pops asked, sittin forward now, all the jokin gone from his face. Mama froze mid-step like she'd been struck by lightnin. Slowly, she turned back toward me, eyes narrowing not in anger, but recognition. "The outside child," she said low. "The one Baptiste had." Her hand came up to her chest. "It's her," she finished quietly "That's why you been askin' all them damn questions," Mama added, eyes locked on me. I nodded once.
Pierre let out a sharp breath. "Damn, nigga so your brother-in-law tried to kill yo' ass." I scoffed, bitter as hell. "Ain't that some family reunion type shit." Juste rubbed his face, shakin his head slow. Jules stared at the table like if he looked up he might snap. Pops stayed quiet, but his jaw worked like he was grindin' something down in his mind.
"I tell y'all what," Mama said suddenly, standin up so fast her chair scraped loud against the floor. "Y'all gon' make me have a damn stroke." She snatched her cigarette pack off the counter and headed toward the door, mutterin under her breath. "Jesus be a fence 'cause clearly y'all niggas done lost y'all minds." The door slammed behind her.
I finished rollin the blunt, sealin it slow, careful. My hands didn't shake but inside Everything was vibrating. My thoughts were loud as gunshots. My wife Caught in the middle of bloodlines and bullshit she never asked for. I leaned back again, staring at the ceiling, smoke still unlit between my fingers.
They thought my rage was about me almost dying. That wasn't it. What scared me, what really sat heavy in my chest, was knowing I'd burn the whole damn world down if anybody thought they could touch her. If this shit crept even an inch closer to Ayida, there wouldn't be no talkin me down. No meetings. No plans. No patience. I knew myself. I wouldn't hesitate.
"Call the damn sitters," Mama said, stepping back into the house, the smell of fresh cigarette smoke clinging to her clothes. "Look like me and y'all daddy attendin' the casino openin' after all." Jules frowned instantly. "Ma, you sure that's a good idea?" She cut her eyes at him. "Jules, you sure you don't wanna kiss my ass?" Pierre snorted. I couldn't help but laugh low under my breath. Mama turned to me, finger pointed like she was pinning me to the wall. "That wife of yours need to come see me." I stiffened. "Ion know 'bout all that, Ma."
"I don't give a damn what you know," she snapped. "You heard what I said." Then she spun back toward Jules. "You go get your wife, and y'all drop them kids off at yo' brother and Chiana's house. Tonight. I wanna know what the hell goin' on."
"Yo brother and Chiana's house," Juste muttered. "I heard that." Mama waved us off like flies. "Now get out. All of y'all. I'm sick of lookin' at y'all."
We left together the air outside thick and tense. Right before I grabbed my door handle, Juste's voice stopped me. "Don't play wit' me, Noles." I looked at him over my shoulder. "I heard you, pussy." I slid into my car and pulled off, tires crunchin against gravel harder than necessary. The drive home was quiet. No music. Just my thoughts replayin everything Ayida told me. Everything I already knew but didn't wanna face. My jaw stayed tight, hand rubbing my chin while my eyes stayed locked on the road.
I passed Chiana on her golf cart, waving as she headed away from my house. When I pulled into the driveway, the place felt still. Sunlight cut through the blinds in thin stripes across the floor. I stepped inside and followed the quiet to the bathroom.
Ayida stood at the counter in a black bra and thong, head bowed, hands planted firm against the marble. Her head was covered with that mesh veil she wore when she prayed. The room smelled faintly of herbs and smoke, something old and sacred hanging in the air. Truth was, I loved seeing her like that. Not in a lustful way, not really. It was deeper. Something primal. Something that pulled at me from a place I couldn't explain. Seeing her in her spiritual mode reminded me how powerful she was. How gifted. How dangerous the world could be to someone like her.
"Wassam, YiYi?" My voice echoed softly. She lifted her head, smiling when our eyes met. I crossed the room and pulled her into my arms. She tilted her face up, lips already reaching for me, forgetting about the veil. I kissed her through it once beforelifting it gently from her face. "I missed you," she whispered. "How'd it go at your mama's?"
"She wanna see you," I muttered, my eyes droppin briefly to her body before comin back to her face. "But I wanna see you first." I pressed my nose to her neck, breathin her in, groundin myself in her scent. That mix of soap, smoke, and somethin' that was just her. She wrapped her arms around my waist like she already knew my chest was too tight, like she could feel the storm still pacin inside me.
"Shower with me," she murmured. It wasn't a question. She turned, fingers laced around my wrist, and pulled me toward the bathroom. The light was low, steam already curling from the mirror like the room knew what was comin'. She reached in and turned the water on, the pipes rattlin' once before the spray settled into a steady rhythm.
She bent forward in front of me, slow, unhurried, and slid her thong down her legs. I swallowed hard, hand finding her ass on instinct. I gave it a sharp slap, just enough to make her gasp, and she laughed under her breath like she loved that I always knew just how rough to be with her.
"You starting trouble," she warned softly, glancing back at me. My hands traveled up her back, fingers tracin every familiar curve before I unclasped her bra. It slid down her arms and hit the tile with a quiet sound that felt louder than it should've. When my hands reached the back of her neck, I pulled her upright until her back was flush against my chest. She fit there like she always had.
I kissed along her shoulder, down her spine, slow and deliberate, lettin' my mouth remind her I was right here. Still breathin'. Still hers. She sighed, leanin back into me for a secondbefore turnin around to face me. She stepped backward into the shower, water spillin over her hair, down her shoulders, tracin the lines of her body. Steam wrapped around her, made her look unreal, like somethin' I wasn't supposed to have but did anyway.
I watched her for a minute too long. Then I stepped in and shut the door. The water hit my back, hot and heavy, the sound of it drownin out everything else. She reached for me, hands slidin over my chest, up my neck, pullin me down into a kiss that was slow at first then deeper, messier. The kind of kiss that said we were both tryin' to forget the world outside this glass box.
"You okay?" she whispered against my mouth, like she could feel how tight I was still wound. "Yeah," I lied, then shook my head. "I am now. “She smiled at that her hands still on me, steadying me in a way nothin else ever had. Like she could feel how close I was to splinterin and chose to anchor me instead.
Then she surprised me. One second she was standin there, water sliding down her skin, eyes locked on mine, the next, she was lower, closer, devotion written all over her face. The sight of her like that did something violent to my chest. The water kept pourin down, steam foggin the glass, droplets clingin to her lashes as she looked up at me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered. Like whatever demons I carried had no place here. "Ouuuuuu," I groaned, head fallin back before I could stop myself.
I reached down, grippin her chin, pullin her back up to me. I kissed her hard, my tongue tangling with hers like I needed to remind myself she was real. That I was here. That I hadn't imagined her. I didn't let her go. I lifted her easily, pressin her back against the cool glass wall of the shower. The contrast of heat and cold, water and skin, made her gasp into my mouth.My hand found her hip, holdin her there like I was afraid she'd disappear if I loosened my grip.
The water rushed over us, loud enough to drown out the rest of the world.
