Page 7 of His Secure Embrace
“Yes, bro. Why are y’all even arguing around her?” I quizzed.
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Because her daddy is a stupid ass nigga who ain’t worth a damn.”
“Oh well. You chose to lay down with that nigga and keep the baby. Now you got to put your differences aside and do what you got to do while preserving your child’s innocence. Rose shouldn’t even have that phrase in her vocabulary.”
“Okay, James.”
Jasmine was my younger sister. She would celebrate her twenty-fourth birthday in the spring. She was a younger version of our mother, cocoa colored skin, round hazel eyes, and a petite frame. She wanted to be like me with long dreadlocks.
Rose was Jasmine’s twin as well. It was like Jasmine 3D printed a miniature version of herself—attitude and all.
“Aye, fix that attitude. Keep Rose out of the room when you’re bashing your baby daddy. Ain’t shit cute about a child too grown for their age. You know she’s a sponge and repeats everything she hears. She shouldn’t hear you saying shit negative about the man who is showing up—which is more than a lot of these niggas are doing.”
“Boy, calm down. You’re only mad because that lil bitch you were fucking lied and tried to trap you with a baby. Just because you’ve got a bad experience with baby mamas doesn’t mean we all out here trying to hurt a nigga. You think you the voice of peace and maturity. Nigga, please.”
“You know how to piss me the fuck off, Jasmine.” I went over to her refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was right. A woman I thought was bringing my child into the world had burned me. Turns out, she fucked around so much she had no clue who the father was and assumed I’d just go with the flow. She was sadly mistaken though.
“You got damn right. What else am I supposed to do as your little sister?” she asked with a grin.
I shook my head. “You lucky Mama taught me not to put my hands on women. I wanna bat you upside your big ass head.”
“You would never lay a finger on me.”
“That’s why you spoiled now.”
Jasmine grinned “Exactly. So, do you want a plate before you head to work? I know you only pulled up because you saw my grocery delivery this morning.”
I chuckled. “Fa shit sho. You spent damn near half a band on groceries. I figured you was gon’ whip something up for me.”
“I made enough for you.”
“You’re the best little sister,” I replied as I claimed a seat at the table and waited for my meal.
My mama, sister, and niece had access to an account I put money in with each weekly deposit I received. I made more than enough money to take care of all the women in my life. My grandfather and dad instilled those morals in me at a young age. As my father got sicker, he made sure I never forgot that.
One of my main goals in life was to keep the legacies of the Hill men pristine.
When I clocked into work, the last person I’d thought I’d see was Brielle. I hadn’t seen her since the shooting at the block party over six months ago, but she’d plagued my mind ever since. I wanted to see her before she left again.
“We’ve got a packed house, Jay. Can you help inside?” Mitch asked as he placed an arm over my shoulder.
I nodded. “Yeah. I got you.”
“Thanks.”
Mitch disappeared into the club as I finished up the checks of the current group of people in front of me. Once they went inside, I did the same. The music blared through the speakers. It was a mix of songs I wasn’t familiar with, but I could tell these were some crowd favorites by the amount of people rapping and dancing.
I patrolled the bottom floor, the bar, and the back hallway before I posted up near the steps of the second-floor sections. My eyes scanned the area intently, making sure nothing or no one was out of place.
“Go, Bri! Go, Bri!” I craned my neck to see Brielle and her friends dancing. She was drunk as hell. With the perfect view,I openly ogled her. She was my type—thick and juicy in all the right places. Her light brown skin looked radiant, even in the dark club. She was what folks would categorize as a BBW: beautiful, big woman. Her weight ain’t make me no difference. I’d still fold her fine ass like a pretzel.
Our eyes locked, and she smirked. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave her ass an extra jiggle. I licked my lips at the sight of her round ass moving like Jell-O.
“Hey, James.”
I tore my eyes away from Brielle’s section to look over at one of the bottle girls. “What’s good, Cierra?”
“Shit, nothing. Headed to the VIP suites.”
