Page 37 of Desperate Measures
“No. No, no, no…” I panicked, dropping to my knees and emptying my purse. With broken nails and bleeding fingers, I started pushing everything aside. Snacks for Scarlett, my gloss, tampons, and a wallet were all pushed aside until I found the phone. Still vibrating, suffocating me with each buzz.
“Only time I’ll ever call this, Crim,” he’d said months ago, slipping it into my hand. “If you hear it ring, don’t answer. Just know I had to go. It means the police are on me. They close. Real close.”
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. The noise of the café disappeared, along with everyone in it. The only thing I heard was Jahsir’s words to me that night. Fear rushed into my heart as I stared at the screen. No caller ID. No second chances. No goodbye. No see you later. Nothing. My hands trembled as I clutched the phone to my chest. Tears spilled from my eyes while I gathered my things and stood to my feet. There was nothing left to say, nothing that would change my reality, and it was my fault.
The Feds were no longer watching; they were here.
They were already close.
And Jah and I were out of time.
crimson
. . .
Month One
Everything felt surreal at first.I hadn’t even made peace with Jahsir being gone when the news broke. Que’s body had been found. Suddenly, the media was circling like vultures, wringing every drop of drama out of it. Mulholland Falls leaders lined up for interviews, shaking their heads over the “tragic robbery” that supposedly ended the life of one of Mulhollands Falls' most ‘promising social climbers’.Oh Please.
They were sensationalizing the hell out of his death because those who knew Que, knew he wasn’t shit- his parents included. On TV, Que’s wife stood in front of the cameras, kids clinging to her sides, repeating the same plea:If anyone knows anything, please come forward.
I felt nothing. Not for him. Not for them. I didn’t give a damn that Quincy was dead, and I cared even less that his kids were hurting. Scarlett was hurting, I was hurting and I missed Jah so much.
Thirty days after he left, the first call finally came. I answered on the first ring. Truth was, I was already awake considering Irarely slept these days. My heart kicked into overdrive at the sound of the vibrating. It was nearly 4 a.m., and I damn near cracked the phone in half getting to it.
“Red,” his voice came through. Immediately, I cried, thanking God he was safe. I gripped the phone and spoke into it.
“Jah?”
“You good?”
“I’m okay.”
“No, I need you to be good. You and my baby girl.”
“Jah, I can’t act like this shit doesn’t hurt. So bad. I know Scarlett misses you; she’s changed. She’s fussy, and she’s walking around here saying Jah Jah.”
“Nah, we gotta fix that. She should be saying Dada.”
That alone made both of us laugh. For a moment, it felt good to hear his voice. Then we were met with silence, which reinforced that he was miles away, and this was all I’d get from him.
“Jah, this is my fault, I met with Venus and-”
“Stop. Whatever karma I get is a result of what I’ve done. This shit was bound to catch up to me. So, I want you to stop; it’s all on me. You hear me?”
“Yeah, bae.”
“I love you, Red, and I miss you. I’ll be back, I promise. You trust me?”
“I do.”
“I got people watching you. Live your life. Walk around Mulholland Falls like you own that muthafucka, because you do!”
“Okay, Jah. I love you.”
After we ended the call, I stared at the ceiling. Then I turned to his side of the bed and placed my hand there. Hearing his voice provided some relief, but the result was still the same. Iwouldn’t be held or comforted. It was just Scarlet and me, and that was a painful reality.
Month Three
