Page 20 of Deacon

Zurmani Coates and I went to school together and were always friendly anytime we had any dealings.

“I’ve been back a little while now. How are you? How’s Evie?” I ask.

“Girl, that nigga stay riding my ass about something,” Evie walks up saying, looking at Zurmani, without making eye contact with me.

“As you can see… same Evie, different decade,” Zurmani says to me, smiling, which causes Evie to make eye contact with me.

“Oh shit. Hey, Janelle. What’s up with you? Still pretty as ever, I see,” Evie says, smiling.

“Hello, ladies. Why don’t you sit and catch up like normal people,” Ms. Delores suggests with my glass of water in hand.

“Do you mind if we join, Janelle?” Zurmani asks.

“No. Sit. Let’s catch up,” I say, waving my hand toward the empty seat across from me.

Ms. Delores takes Zurmani’s and Eva’s drink orders before leaving the table as the three of us begin catching up. It’s been years since I’ve had an opportunity to have any human conversations outside of the ones Tinker Belle and I have. It feels good to talk and catch up with women without hidden agendas.

“Oh, let me tell you about your ho-ass cousin,” Evie says to me while shaking her head.

“What has she done this time?” I ask.

Without knowing which one of my cousins Evie is talking about, something tells me she’s talking about Tolanda because she is known to stay in some bullshit. It’s why I was so mad at her, playing news reporter with my mother, knowing the stuff she stays in.

“I ain’t ever seen a bolder bitch with so much audacity like Tolanda. First, I saw her eating her friend’s pussy while a nigga fucked her. Mind you, this was leaving Club Stew when the club closed for the night. Then her ho-ass let that nigga and another one of her friend’s man run a train on her in the parking lot of Walmart three days later.”

“What are the odds of seeing the same chick doing dirt?” Zurmani asks with her brows hiking.

“By the grace of God, I didn’t see the Walmart incident firsthand, but there is a video going around social media. There is no mistaking Tolanda and the busted orange wig she thinks is fire,” Evie says.

“Don’t bring God into this foolishness. My man is giving me enough to pray about,” Zurmani says, shaking her head.

“I bet. At least the nigga is fine, though. If his ass were busted, I would throw you over my shoulder and drop your ass off in Mexico like immigration,” Evie says.

“I hate you,” Zurmani says as I laugh at their antics, feeling light for the first time in weeks as an image of Deacon flashes, causing me to shiver.

“I saw that,” Evie says, looking at me suspiciously.

“What?” I ask.

“Who is the nigga that didn’t wait three to five business days to lock your ass down?” Evie asks.

“You don’t even want to know,” I say, not ready to disclose any information, especially since technically I’m single.

“Mm. Sounds scandalous,” Evie says, smirking.

“Not yet… but I hope so,” I say, winking.

Hold on… what the hell am I saying?

Present scene…

“I don’t give a fuck what you say. Your ass ain’t going back home,” Deacon rants, pacing in front of me like a raging bull.

His ugly ass damn near hogtied me before forcing me inside the clubhouse when the police arrived on the chaotic scene. After catching up with Zurmani and Eva, I left full and clearly in a coma because my car brought me to Baxtown Iron with no mental instruction from me. Pulling up to see people moving about with either murderous expressions, attention on injured people, or assessing vehicles had me hesitant to stop. Yet, realizing my best friend was somewhere amid the group of bikers had me stopping. Searching through the throng of people for Tinker Belle had my blood pressure spiking and my chest tightening.

“I’m not sure who the hell you think you are, but my father’s name is?—”

“Fuck what you’re talking about. I ain’t gotta be that nigga to tell your stubborn ass that you will be leaving this damn clubhouse with me. Now, you can come willingly, or I can tie your ass up and strap you to the back of my bike. What’s it gonna be because you don’t have any other options?” Deacon’s temporal vein pulses uncontrollably as his jaw ticks and his eyes darken.

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