Page 35 of Disrespectfully, Relic

“He didn’t want to learn.”

“How would you know, Judith?” Relic interrupted at her assumption, and she flicked a hand to dismiss him, but he continued. “Did you pull me into the kitchen like you did your favorite child to show me the ropes?”

“I’m not entertaining your foolishness, Relic. Me and Jahleel were having a good time, and here you come, ruining it. Let me enjoy my grandson. Just because you hate me doesn’t mean he has to.”

“He doesn’t hate you, grann.”

“Don’t speak for me, Jah. Let’s go,” Relic commanded, making Jahleel pout.

“I wasn’t even here long! Can I stay next weekend with grann? She said—”

“I don’t give a fuck what she said! Let’s go, and so you won’t let her talk you into asking another dumb ass question, you can’t stay with her. If you’re not with me or my brothers, you won’t see her. Remember that answer because I don’t want to hear about it again.”

Jahleel froze in shock before anger contorted his features—flaring his nostrils and furrowing his thick brows set over slit eyes. It was the most that Relic had seen his son look like him.

Judith reached out to coddle Jahleel, but he slid away and yanked off his hairnet and gloves to throw on the floor. Relic was across the room and stepping into his son’s face before Jahleel could take a step.

“Pick it up, now.”

“Don’t hit him, Relic! I’ll get it!” Judith shrilled in panic, rushing to his defense just as she used to do with Shabu.

Relic outstretched a hand to stop her. His chest rose and fell in speedy breaths as his fist balled before he placed both hands behind his back because all he saw was his brother’s face, standing up to Joseph just to receive a blow to the chest or stomach. His lungs constricted as he recalled Shabu gasping for air because his little frame couldn’t take those hits.

The skeleton tucked away in his mental closet with his brother’s name on it tried knocking down the barricade, reminding him that he’d watched his brother’s abuse and didn’t intervene more times than he cared to admit it because it was normal to him. Not protecting Shabu held the number one spot on his list of regrets. It was the sole reason he allowed his brother to disrespect him and talk shit without beating his ass.

“I’m only gon’ ask you one more time, Jahleel. Don’t force my hand,” Relic stated in an even tone that contrasted with the internal chaos conflicting his next move. “Pick that shit up, throw it away, and go to the car.”

Jahleel stood firm for less than five seconds before a cracked cry spilled from him, followed by a tear rolling down his cheek. He bent to pick up his trash, tossed it out, and then exited the kitchen without another word. Relic stood in place because his son’s sniffles were so fucking familiar that his mind muddied and temples throbbed with an oncoming headache.

“You’re so set on hating me that you’re going to make Jahleel hate you in the process,” Judith stated, and his eyes flicked her way. “He doesn’t even call you dad, Relic. Why do you think that is? Because you yell and—”

“And I what?” he pushed out through gritted teeth, dishing her a stare so cold that she took a step back. “I don’t put my fucking hands on my son. I’ve never hit him, and I’ve never had to raise my voice or threaten him to that point until today. It’s you.”

“No, it’s you! You’re the problem, but you want someone else to blame for your actions. Joseph is all over you, and it’s only a matter of time before you do Jah how that man used to do me and my damn son. If what just happened ain’t proof, I don’t know what the hell is.”

Relic rolled his shoulders and then adjusted his wristwatch that Judith glanced at before turning her back on him to tend to the plantains. She didn’t have words left for him, and the sentiments were mutual because he’d learned that she’d see Joseph in him, regardless. There was no convincing her otherwise.

He trudged from the kitchen and was relieved that Savvy was nowhere in sight as he beelined for the door, heading straight to his car that was parked in front. Jahleel was leaned against the passenger door with the hood of his coat over his head and his arms crossed when Relic stepped outside. He hit the locks, and his son hopped inside as he strolled to the driver’s side to do the same. The deafening silence cloaking his ride as he started it made him stall instead of immediately pulling off. Relic loathed losing, but for his son, he’d take a loss to the chin.

Jahleel winced when Relic reached over to brush off his hood—gripping his head to pull him toward his side before meshing their foreheads together. Relic kissed his son’s temple.

“I apologize for yelling at you because it was displaced anger but remember one thing. Just because I don’t hit you doesn’t mean take advantage of that shit. I won’t tell you anything wrong, so listen to me the first time, Jahleel. You don’t want to push me to that point. Konprann?”

“Wi, mesye.”

“Good. Buckle up.”

Relic broke their embrace and then watched Jahleel pull on his seatbelt before angling to face the door. Knowing his son had no intentions of talking his head off like usual, Relic turned on the radio because he needed anything to distract him from his second fuck-up as a father. The irony didn’t miss him that he’d failed as a big brother, and history seemed on the verge of following him into parenthood.

A blade.

A dollar bill.

A single baggie of coke.

Those three items plagued Relic’s thoughts as he sat in his idling vehicle in front of Kennedy’s apartment building. Jahleel not uttering a word to him before hopping out of his car had summoned those items to the forefront of his mind. Judith’s reminder of his son’s refusal to give him a title he hadn’t cared about before they’d met had increased the urge. Relic had stared at those items for hours before putting them away to shower and get dressed in preparation for his evening affairs.

His mind coasted to the glass of melting ice he’d left on his room table after refilling it with alcohol three times, capping his daily limit. Each one had been a waste because the liquor hadn’t settled his nausea or prevented those skeletons from banging on his internal closet’s door, full force. The notion to indulge in the whole bottle until he was falling out of his chair and belligerent had crossed his mind, but he decided against it since no one had been around to pick him up off the floor like he’d done for Joseph on many occasions.

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