Page 33 of Deacon

Damn, Deacon. Why do I gotta be in the middle of this shit? My bestie has an ugly mean streak and can hold a grudge.

Me:

Appreciated. I’m placing a temporary override for my security gate. Enter 1531 into the keypad.

I’m not about to go back and forth with Tinker Belle and her warning regarding Squeak. If I’m gonna focus, I can’t worry about how Squeak will handle or deal with the shit I’m being forced to do to her. Neither Shadow nor Leggs was able to identify the nigga who ran up on them, which doesn’t give Diesel, Gunz, or me any comfort. Fighting an unknown opponent can be tricky, especially when I’m unsure which of my past sins is returning to serve their cold dish of revenge. I have been judge, jury, and vindicator for several people, so it could truly be anyone or their family members at this point.

Five days later…

“My baby.” Sleepy’s mom cries when the casket begins lowering in the burial plot, making me thankful for the aviator glasses blocking my eyes from the attendees.

Sleepy’s mom, Ms. Brenda, let Baxtown Iron lead the funeral procession that guided our fallen brother through the streets of Ribax. Bulldog, Diesel, and Gunz took point as road captains while I brought up the rear of the family and friends following the hearse. The past few days have been hell because I have gotten used to Squeak in my bed. Thanks to our other brotherhood, Sons of Shadows, and the works of their enforcer, Rico, we were able to find out who was responsible for what happened to Shadow, Leggs, and Sleepy. According to Rico’s intel, Satan’s Cobras are still in their feelings about what I did to Wrangler.

Dutch, who’s the president of Sons of Shadows, told Diesel that Satan’s Cobras have been bragging about what they did. Dutch also said that they feel like we’re now even. Dutch and the Sons of Shadows, along with our other brotherhood, City Slickers, have pledged their dedication to ensuring all members of Baxtown Iron and our families are safe. Dutch’s woman, Makari, has even finalized the cabaret plans since all three clubs will be uniting for the event. With the need for anonymity, the cabaret will now be held at Onesti Azure Gathering Space.

While things are moving along in the club, thanks to the assistance of our brotherhood, my spirit is unsettled. My vexation has been evident and uncontainable with each passingday I’m unable to contact, kiss, hold, or see Squeak. Whenever I close my eyes to catch a couple hours of sleep, Squeak’s mocha face haunts me, preventing me from obtaining necessary rest. I have been living off a mere two hours each day, heightening my weary yet grumpy disposition. To make matters worse, I have been unable to sleep in my bed due to Squeak’s scent lingering in my sheets and the memory of our escapade.

“Jesus… please comfort my auntie.” A female voice penetrates my thoughts, bringing me back to the cemetery.

A woman is holding Sleepy’s mother while rocking her, as tears rapidly fall from Sleepy’s mother’s eyes. My chest pinches at the display, and pain in the back of my throat forces me to peel my eyes away from the two women.

“Damn. This shit is so wrong,” I say to Gunz.

“For sure. It’s okay, though. Sleepy’s death won’t be in vain. We’re gonna pick off Satan’s Cobras one by one until the head nigga is cowering underneath a rock,” Gunz says.

Nodding wordlessly, I follow behind my best friend when he starts walking toward the line of bikes boxing in the cars.

“We’re partying in Sleepy’s honor once we get his mom and family situated. For today, I’m pulling Too Sweet and Jasper off Squeak’s trail so they can throw back some shots with the rest of us,” Diesel says, walking up beside me, further tanking my mood.

Gritting my teeth, I continue walking to my bike because the urge to knock my president on his ass begins brewing in my core. Climbing on my iron, I pull my phone from my vest to call in the only reinforcement I have at my disposal. Watching the family begin moving toward the vehicles along the dirt road, I listen to the ringing flowing through the receiver until the call connects.

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise? How are you, Prynce?” Ma’s cheery question hits my ear, and a warm feeling settles in my chest.

“Try not to overreact when I say this, but I need your help with something, Ma.”

“Oh wow. This sounds serious. Let me sit down. Hold on a second.” The ruffling and shaking from the receiver lets me know Ma is in motion.

Staring blankly at the people walking toward me, I lick my dry lips while trying to contain the uneasy feeling, attempting to spike my blood pressure.

“All right. What do you need, Prynce?” Ma asks a few minutes later.

“I need you to do what only you can do… pray for Sq—Janelle. I need God to cover and protect her in my absence.”

My temperature increases, and tingling in my extremities nearly gives way to a wave of nausea from the thought of failing to be the protector Squeak needs.

“Done. Are you okay?” The concern in Ma’s tone has me momentarily closing my eyes to ward off the helpless feeling fighting to overwhelm me.

“Keep blocking Satan’s plans concerning me, and I will be.”

Although Ma hasn’t been calling me to pray over the line with me, I know she hasn’t neglected her prayer posture where I’m concerned. Right now, amid chaos and danger, I also need her to cover Squeak too. I need to know that when it's time for me to go after my woman, not a single strand will be out of place on her full head of hair. I also know without an ounce of doubt that God is able to do what others, including myself, can’t. Therefore, calling Ma and having her intercede for me and Squeak is imperative.

“Father, in the name of Jesus, I come before you now.” This time, when Ma starts praying, I don’t complain or protest, allowing her to speak the words I’m unable to.

While I still believe that God hears a sinner’s prayer, I’m not in a position to know what to say. Allowing Ma to pray on ourbehalf is only because I know she is strong enough to handle the petition in my moment of weakness.

“Aye, you cool, Deacon,” Gunz says, and I nod without opening my eyes because Ma is still actively praying.

“Amen. Thanks, Ma,” I say a few minutes later, opening my eyes to see three sets of eyes watching me intently.

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