Page 15 of Saint Baptiste 2

I was in a mood. A terrible one. Probably would be for a nice lil’ minute, low key. Came back to an empty bed. Yeaaaa, a nigga would be lying if I said I didn’t expect that shit neither. The sun was up when I made it back. Barely. Just creeping over the horizon. But damn shorty, really? That’s how you do me? I was heated. I mean... fuck! I thought she’d at least let me take her home. Thought she’d at least give me that. I mean... did I deserve it? Fuck no. But to leave me like that? In the middle of the night? Nah. That shit didn’t sit right with my spirit. Ate at me viciously.

As soon as I noticed she was gone, I called her. It didn’t go through; she blocked me. That fucked me up. Almost sent me doing about one hundred on the freeway. But… I didn’t. I sat down. Had to. It wasn’t her blocking me that made me stay away. It was love. I couldn’t just force myself up on her. I’d done enough damage, hadn’t I? This shit was on me. I did that. I ended us. I didn’t show her what I wanted. She already had cracks in her and what I do? Add more. I wouldn’t overstep. Refused to risk shattering her completely. I had to leave us where we were at. I had to deal because shit, I was the one responsible for it all. That was a decision I had to learn to live with. It would for sure take time to get used to though.

Besides, we had an agreement. Sunrise. I left. Had to. Wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I didn’t settle that debt. If given a chance to relive it, I would make the same choice.

The only reason I was even up was because I didn’t sleep. Yesterday and today ran together as one because I hadn’t slept a fucking wink. Couldn’t see a day in the future where I would. I didn’t know peace without her. She was my go-to. I looked forward to every day because by the end of it, I knew I would have seen, touched, kissed, and smelled her. Was too much of a coward to end it with her. Was too much of a pussy to start a new one with her. But, spending just a little bit of time in her presence was more than enough. And if she was in one of her lil moods where she wasn’t talking to a nigga, I was cool because I knew that eventually we would be back on again. Didn’t sleep as good as knowing that at the end of my days I would have her, but I slept. Tossed and turned a bit. But I was cool. Rest came easy because I knew that the more I slept, the closer I would get to seeing, touching, kissing, and smelling her again. I had nothing to look forward to now and that really fucked with me.

“Yeah, you really losing it,” Blaise said with a laugh before standing. He walked over to me and put the back of his hand against my forehead. I knocked it away. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black Nike hoodie and leaned against the wall next to the mirror, eyeing me. “Real shit though, Saint. We need to talk about last night.”

I glanced over at him, adjusted the collar on my black Tom Ford dress shirt and took a deep breath. “For what?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Do you really need me to answer that, fré? You know what for. Whatever trip you on, nigga. I’m going to need you to come back down to reality.” He grinned and tossed his head back. “That shit felt good though didn’t it?”

I glanced at him again. Smirked a little and shook my head.

He lightly chuckled. “I’m already knowing. You don’t have to say it. I know it felt good but the difference between me and you, with yo’ lil fancy ass Tom Ford shirt on and shit nigga is that I know how to snap out of it if I have to. You don’t have any other option but to snap out of it. You still there though. And you can’t be because you the corporate nigga with shit to do.” He paused. “And a lot to lose. And if you lose—we all lose.”

We locked eyes and I nodded.

Couldn’t believe I was in the position I was in. Shit was wild. Never in a million years did I think at this stage in my life that I would be given one of them talks by this nigga.

Taking a deep breath, I ran both my hands down my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. “How much damage?”

“As much as you would expect from a triple homicide in the city, nigga,” he shrugged his right shoulder. “No suspects. No witnesses. As usual. The only problem you have is Em’.”

“Minimal damage. Nothing to talk about,” I dismissed, as I brushed by him to walk into the bathroom. “Emerald is my responsibility. I’ll get with her later.”

As expected, he followed.

Emerald was pissed. She wanted answers. What happened had to be addressed. I knew that. Shit, I jeopardized the future of her business; she had to see me. I understood. I respected it. But to give her answers meant I’d have to talk about Naoki and well… I didn’t want to do that. Not because I was embarrassed by the way I felt about her. I was past that. But because talking about her to anyone would be pointless. They wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t understand my why. They would make it vane. They would make it surface level and there was nothing surface level about Naoki or the way I felt about her. I couldn’t put it into words.

Why in the fuck would I want to talk about the only thing in the world that made me feel? It would be different if I still had her. But I didn’t, so that flipped shit. Talking about Naoki was painful. Painful because there was nothing for me to do with all of these feelings I felt. I had to sit with them. Had to sit with what I’d done. Sit with what I’d ruined and… I didn’t like the shit. Would rather forget last night happened. Would rather forget the last few years happened, low key. But forgetting her was impossible. The way I studied her last night wasn’t necessary. It was nice, but... I didn’t need to do any of it. Everything about her was already stuck to me. Naoki was an experience.

“Minimal damage? Did you just hear what the fuck I said? You forget what type of time you was on last night nigga? No mask? Playing tag with a?—”

“Playin’ tag?” I laughed. “Yeah, aight. That nigga was barely breathin. And I did have on a mask. Pulled it down a little. The hood hid enough. Chill.”

“You a little too ‘laxed about the way you handled that shit. Should I make this a three-person meeting?”

I stopped rummaging through the vanity drawer to lock eyes with him. With a grin, I asked, “Aw, you want to call ‘da-da’, pussy?” His nostril’s flared but he didn’t respond. I looked away, shook my head, and huffed with a laugh. “Fuck out of here, bitch. Like I said, he was barely breathin. Didn’t need you to snatch ‘em up off me neither. You know how I feel about my bodies?—”

Before I could finish talking my shit, Blaise grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and hemmed me up against the wall behind me. “What the fuck you just say to me lil nigga? Do I want to call who!”

“Da-da!” I yelled in his face. “Daddy! You bitch ass nigga!”

Jahad. Da-da. His daddy. First thing out his mouth when he thought something was wrong, was ‘should I make this a three-person meeting’ as if that nigga was even included in any of this shit. He was out. He had to stay out. The fuck did he have to do with any of this shit? I had it under control.

Jah was, and probably always would be, a sensitive subject.

We rarely talked about him. We didn’t bring him up unless it was absolutely necessary. There was division between us. A lot of it. It was unsettling to say the least. We didn’t get into it or any shit like that. It was just weird between us. When he shut that door on Samuel, it was like shutting the door on us too. I tried for a while to stop the domino effect from having an impact on our relationship, but that last conversation we had over breakfast change things. I hadn’t driven the twenty-five minutes to his house for breakfast since that talk. If I was in the neighborhood, I’d drop by to see my niece and nephew, but the visits didn’t last more than twenty minutes. We checked in over the phone every now and then but that was about it.

“What I say at the meeting B? Hm? That shit apply to you too,” I continued, out of breath, before shoving him up off me. “Don’t think for one second it don’t. Call ‘eem up if you want to fré.” I laughed. “Call ‘em.”

I shifted my eyes up at him through the mirror. The tension was high, but tension was always high with this nigga.

We stayed like that for a couple of seconds before he pushed away from the wall. He slammed his hand down on my shoulder and sighed. “Can’t believe my nigga going out sad bout a bit?—”

“A what?”

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