Jaymes

With his lips pressed to the side of my mouth, he kisses me so sweetly that I almost pressure him for more. I ease into the feeling of us again, but then he whispers, “You. God, Jaymes, I missed you.”

My heart is racing, my emotions rampant as the consequences of feeling something, feeling everything for this man again pulses through me. I push him back, and stumble out of his grasp to get away. With a good ten feet distance keeping him safely away, I shake my head. “No. You don’t get to say that.”

“I did. I said it, Jaymes. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but I’ve missed you.”

“No.” I start pacing, my hands going into my hair. “No. You can’t do this.”

“I’m doing it.”

Stopping, I look at him confused. “I don’t understand. It’s been a long time, Derrick. Nothing about what you’re saying makes any sense.”

“That’s because you’re trying to make sense of how I feel. Sometimes we just feel and that should be enough. Like love.”

“Oh no, no. You don’t get to drag love into this. You drove off that day. Were you thinking of love then? Were you thinking of me? For years I’ve had to live with the sound of your tires as you drove away like you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

“You know why you remember the tires instead of me? Because you ran away. A lot like you’re doing now.”

“Accusations are easy to throw around—”

“Two-way street, baby.”

“Mommy?”

When Derrick turns his body to look behind him, Ace is there, our moms keeping their distance. I bend down and put on a smile for my son. “Hey, buddy. You ready to go?”

“I’m hungry.”

“I’ll make you pancakes at home.” Holding my hand out, he takes it. I glance to Derrick who looks as gutted as I feel. “Goodbye.”

“Bye,” he says, tucking his hands in his pockets. “See ya, Ace.”

“See you, Big D.”

Squeezing his hand, I quickly correct him, “No, we aren’t going to call him that.”

“Why not?”

Good Lord. I need to get out of here. “Just no, Ace. Call him by his name Derrick, or Mr. Masters. It’s more respectful.”

“Okay, Mommy. Why are we walking so fast?”

I tap his nose. “’Cuz Mommy’s hungry, too.” I doubt I’ll be able to eat anything by the way my stomach’s twisted in knots, but I need to, just like I need to leave Derrick Masters in the past. Just before I turn the corner, I sneak one peek back. Damn him. Why did he come today? What was his agenda? To try and pick up where we left off? “I want anything I can get with you.” Why?

Why does he have to look so damn good when I’m a complete mess?

Or maybe he’s a mess inside just like me, but wrapped up in one hell of an enticing package. Either way that man’s off limits. Not only for me, but there’s no way I can let Reggie find out or I’ll have hell to pay.

I start the car and make sure Ace is buckled in. My mom comes around the corner and gets in. When the door shuts, her mouth opens, but I’m getting quicker, “Not now. Not in front of Ace.”

“What not in front of me?” he asks, pouting in the back seat.

“Don’t worry about it,” my mom and I say in unison and then turn to each other.

I break first and start laughing. The reprieve needed. Exhaling loudly, I grip the steering wheel and then look back. “In-N-Out Burger?”

Ace’s arms fly into the air. “Yay!”

Shifting the car into drive, I avoid looking at my mother. I feel her thoughts spanning across the console. I don’t need to see her disappointment too. When Ace is happily distracted naming the color of every car that drives past us, I say, “The boat can’t be rocked.”

“He has too much control.”

Reggie.

“I have no choice.”

“You do. You’re just choosing not to use the power you have.”

Glancing into the rearview mirror, I see my son and his smile. I will do anything that protects the light that shines bright for his future. “He’ll take him. I can’t let that happen.”

She reaches over and rubs my arm. “Maybe Derrick can help.”

“It’s complicated.”

Resolved, she breathes out. “It always is.”

“I’m not having this fight with you. There are things you don’t know that I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t or won’t? I don’t understand his hold on you. I know you don’t love him.”

“Enough.” I shoot her a look that this conversation is over. I hate being curt with her, but I cannot do this again.

Ace pipes in, “Love who?”

“Whom.” Catching a glimpse of him in the mirror again, I say, “Nothing, sweetie. The big question is—animal style?”

“Yes please,” he replies joyously.

When Ace and I get home, I drop my bag by the door and hang my keys on the hook. I’m anxious. My skin crawls from the thought of the depths Reggie is willing to go to hurt Derrick. He never loved me. I’m just a pawn in his game of revenge. I deserve some of the blame. I knew what I was doing when I made that deal, but Ace and his innocence are now and forever caught in the middle. Kids weren’t part of the bargain. Why Reggie still shows such interest when he never wanted to be a father is beyond my rationale. My nightmares are based on the reality of his words, his threats, to take my son away. To turn him into the prince he wants him to be. His legacy.

I will die before I let that happen. I’ll do anything it takes to make sure Ace gets out like Derrick did.

---

The sun has set and Ace is snug in his bed when the banging begins as if his ears were burning today. Ace runs into the living room and grabs hold of my leg. “Who is it, Mommy?”

“Go back to bed and don’t come out for anything, okay?” I shuffle him back to his room as the banging continues matching my heartbeats. “Get in bed. Now.”

“I’m scared.”

Steadying my voice, I say, “Don’t be, buddy. I’m not.” I put on a fake smile and blow him a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you,” he replies with the covers up to his nose. I shut the door and grab my phone. Texting my mom, I hit the agreed upon letter and send. Setting my phone on the coffee table I rush to answer the door, knowing he won’t go away when he knows I’m home.

One lock clicks open and the banging stops. I remove the chain and turn the knob lock before opening the door. Raising my chin, I come face to face with true evil—dark hair, eyes so light that they’re hard to see at night. Just pupils black as his soul shine in the dark, like now as he stands under the porch light. I whisper, “It’s late. Ace is sleeping.”

Reggie’s hand flattens against the dented metal door and he pushes it open. “Aren’t you gonna invite me in?” He’s slurring and those black as death pupils are pinpoints. Drunk and high. My fear builds and my mouth opens to deepen my breaths. I don’t want him to sense how scared I am. He gets off on it.

“It’s late.” I try my best to wrangle even a fake smile, but can’t seem to manage.

“Where’ve ya been lately?”

“I’m always here.”

A dirty nail tipped finger runs along my jaw. I start to turn but he grabs my face and yanks me back to look at him. “Don’t you ever turn away from me.”

My neck aches, but the pain is overridden by the sounds of Ace’s door creaking open. No. No. No. Please, God. Let him go back to bed. “I’m looking at you, Reggie,” I say as calm as I can. My hand covers his and slowly lowers it back down. “I’m looking right at you.”

Leaning against the doorframe, a smarmy self-pleased grin injects itself on his face. Touching his lips, he licks his finger, and then reaches for me. “So pretty. One taste will never be enough.”

Blood rushes in my ears as the horror of him “tasting” me comes back. I flinch, my eyes closed tight. One. Two. Three. Four. One. Two. Three. Four. I reopen my eyes to find his, too lazy to notice, giving me an opportunity. “Shayna is a very jealous woman, Reggie. You know she doesn’t share.”

“Might be interesting to see what you can do—”

“Ace needs me. You know that.”

Pushing me, he walks in. “Where’s my boy?”

I hurry around him, a barricade he’ll have to destroy to get to my son.

“He’s sleeping. Remember? It’s late, Reggie.” My hands are against his chest. “You should go home to Shayna.”

Moving me back, he demands, “I want to see my son. What’s he like three now?”

“Yes, something like that. He needs his sleep. You should go home.”

He stops, his gaze piercing mine. Locked in a silent standoff, neither of us moves. I don’t even breathe. I’ve got five minutes left to call my mom back before she calls the police. I can’t let this escalate. I’m about to distract him with another threat of his girlfriend, but his body goes slack and he starts laughing. “Fuck, woman. You’re tougher than you look. I like that.”

Just as I pretend to smile and play along, I’m grabbed by the back of my hair and brought in, my body slamming into his. I fight to silence my terror but it slips out in the form of a weak cry caught in my throat. I hate myself for not being stronger.

The smell of rotting flesh burns my nostrils as he holds me so close I feel his breath against my cheek. “Don’t you ever fucking tell me what to do or I’ll fucking take my son and leave your ass for fucking dead. Do you understand me?”

Tears well in my eyes. Another tight pull and I know he’s pulled some out this time. My head is angled up when he pushes his mouth against my ear. “You were his. Now you’re mine. Or did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget.”

Inhaling me, he closes his eyes as his grip on me loosens. “I give you my patience. No one else, but you receive my mercy on a regular basis. Why do I do it?”

Remaining quiet, I let him play out the fantasy in his head. He’s not someone I can reason with in this state. And honestly, I don’t know why he’s spared me. Often, I think it’s leading to something bigger. He’s a showman, a lot like Derrick—probably the only thing they have in common. He’s waiting for his big finale, but hopefully I’ll be gone before he gets to it.

Taking a deep breath, he rubs the back of my head with his grimy hands as if that will soothe the ache of my scalp. “Rebel tried to fuck me over. Payback’s a bitch. Right, Jamie?”

“Yes.” That I can agree on.

“Our Rebel has lived up to his name. Wonder how we can get a cut of all that dough he’s making.” He walks away, but makes sure to watch my face when he asks, “You ever hear from him?”

For someone so out of touch with reality, he seems to be in the dead center of mine. “Nope.”

“Oh man,” he says with his hands covering his heart. “That’s gotta hurt. He burned you good.” Finally, he walks to the door, but turns back. “But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. It’s the least a friend can do for another friend. We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah. Sure. Friends.” Disgust fills my stomach that I am stuck dealing with this disgusting excuse for a human. Sometimes I wonder where he went wrong, what happened to fill him with the hate that he breeds now. Sure he was stabbed in the back by a friend, but that wouldn’t lead to this. He was well on his way to who he is now long before Derrick left. How did he turn out so bad? What led this kid who once won a ribbon for his poetry into the gang leader he’s become now? Life means nothing to him, except for his own. Yet he fills his with nothing but hate, killing himself slowly.

Does it make me a horrible person that I’ve prayed for him to overdose? Looking at him now, threatening my son and me like our lives mean nothing, I want him dead.

“If you hear from our famous friend, you let me know. One step back in my hood and his ass is capped. If he even comes within two miles of you or my son, everyone will die.”

A wadded-up twenty-dollar bill hits me on the chest. “You remember who lets you go to school. It’s me who lets you have a job. You have this place because I allow it.” Then he says what he always says, “Don’t ever lie to me and don’t go gettin’ crazy ideas in that pretty head of yours about skipping town. You know what I do to people who betray me?”

I do, so I nod. People go missing, or get shot, or hurt. He destroys lives. Coming back over, he pats me on the head. “Good. Make sure to buy my kid some fuckin’ toys.” He leaves, slamming the door behind him. I scramble to my feet, lock the door, and grab my phone to text my mom: Okay. I’m okay.

If she only knew the full truth. Shame works its way in and I start to cry.

She’s quick to reply: I love you.

Through blurry, tear-filled eyes, I type: I love you too. Night.

I rub the back of my head, strands tangling between my fingers, a clump. I don’t know how long I stand there with the phone and my hair in my hand. Pulling them close to my chest, I realize I don’t have anyone I can call. With my back to the wall, I slide down slowly, still holding on to the phone like I’m holding on for dear life. Maybe I am.

When my ass hits the carpet, I look down. What is this life I’m leading? How many lives do I have left before he kills me, or worse . . . I can’t even think it. I’ll do anything for Ace. I will do anything to protect him. And against my better judgment, I’ll continue to protect the man I once gave my heart to, even if he did leave it behind for lights brighter than the ones that once shined in my eyes just for him.

I wasn’t enough to keep him here and there wasn’t enough time for me to go with him.

But I told him to go and never look back.

What was I thinking going today and seeing him?

The touch of his lips to my lips.

That can’t happen again. No. It’s not worth the risk.

Derrick Masters needs to stay in the past. That’s the only way I can make sure I stay on track with my plan. I will take Ace out of this hellhole and get him away from that dangerous, vile monster.

The only plan that matters—saving my son from being taken.

That connection I felt stretching across the table, the one that once had me head over heels for that man, needs to go away. Five minutes more and my heart would have been his all over again. That can’t happen. Not ever.

Ace. My sweet son. How will Derrick look at him, or treat him when he will always know that he’s Reggie’s. And my mom. I need to make sure they’re safe. Love can wait. My heart will have to bear the brunt of more time.

Destiny sure does have a screwed up sense of humor.