5
Jakari
Bythetimewegot back on the road, the traffic had cleared. Yellow tape surrounded the Sliders parking lot, but there didn’t seem to be any rubbernecking. I made it to my mama’s house in fifteen minutes.
Malika didn’t say a word the whole ride. I was fine with that, because I had much more pressing shit to worry about. First, hinging any of this plan on my little sister was shaky as fuck. I love her to death, but she can be dizzy sometimes.
Second, I knew that as soon as I walked up in my mama’s house, I’d have to change up. Jakari who worked at Zenith Media would be no more, at least not for the time being. I would be Knight again, and Knight had responsibilities. Shit that Jakari moved to Atlanta to get away from.
I knew it would eventually come to this. So did my daddy.
There were hella cars in the driveway and along the street in front of the house, so I had to park all the way down the block. That shit pissed me off, but I could deal with it for one night. Come morning, things would be different around here.
“Alright, let’s go.”
“Why are we here?” Malika asked as we walked up the driveway.
“Relax. It’s my mama’s house. Look, when we get in here, don’t say shit to nobody. Just sit down somewhere and wait for me.”
“Okay.”
“My sister’s gonna drive you back so you can get your shit. If you need anything from your place, she’ll take you there, too.”
“How long will I be…how many…h-how much should I pack?”
“Shit, I don’t know.” I stopped walking and looked at her. “Look, just assume you’re gonna be gone for a while. That’s all I can tell you.”
Once we reached the front door, I took a deep breath, then another. I turned the knob and pushed the door open, and I was met with the smell of home.
I wouldn’t say I missed Midling, but I did miss home. I grew up in this house, so the smell, the pictures on the walls, the giant blue sectional in the family room, the annoying plastic runner that covered the hallway all the way to the kitchen…it took me right back to my childhood. Happier times.
Back before the truth about my family changed my whole world.
“Oh! Look at this pretty nigga!”
That was Eris, my youngest brother. He was 25, three years younger than me, and constantly and consistently on my fucking nerves. Spoiled ass.
I walked up on him and grabbed him in a headlock. Once I felt he was punished enough for calling me pretty, I let him loose and gave him a real hug.
“How you holding up?” I asked him.
I felt him shrug.
“It’s gon be alright, E. I’m home now.”
After a few hard slaps on the back, I pushed him off me and remembered I had Malika with me. She was standing right behind me, staring at the floor.
Eris frowned when he finally noticed her. “What’s going on with her? She tending bar for the repast or something?”
“You a fool,” I said, chuckling. “Nah, it’s a long story. I’ma tell it all in a minute. Where’s Mama?”
“Kitchen.”
I nodded and looked over at Malika. “Can I trust you to stay here until I get back?”
She lifted her eyes to mine and nodded. I stared for a few seconds, only because I hadn’t noticed her eyes before. They were shaped kinda different, almost like cat eyes, and they were big, and her lashes were so long, they looked fake. I got caught up for a minute, which was ridiculous considering all the shit I was dealing with at the moment. It damn sure wasn’t the time to be thinking about how pretty she was.
Pretty can make you lose your mind. And I know that because I’ve used it to make many women lose theirs over me.