He finally turned to face me with this sad but hopeful look in his eyes. It made it hard for me to look at him.
“You know what I mean, Novie. Can we do us? Be together? All my boys got wives, and they on their first or second seed. I’m tired of these sometimes situations we stay having. I want this all the time. I want us all the time.”
The sun filtered through the blinds, making long bright dashes across the shadowed parts of the room. Silvery flecks of dust whirled in the sunlight. I stopped staring off into space, turning my head toward him and angling my chin down. I was all of a sudden self-conscious about blowing my morning breath in his face. The man was a freak of nature. He never had dump-truck mouth in the morning, not even after a night of drinking. My breath would probably be like that too if I swore off red meat, junk food, and wine like he did. But none of that was happening, the same way I couldn’t see us happening. Our past felt too cracked and too weird now.
We could never be like we were before. He’d admit it too, if he wasn’t going through last-man-standing syndrome. All his friends were wifed up, so now he thinks he wants to be wifed up too. I tried to wrap my mind around the right words to say.
“Knock, knock, woman.” He tapped his finger against my forehead. “All those thoughts you got goin’ on up there right now, can you let me in on ’em because that face of yours don’t hide a thing?”
I cracked all of my toes twice before stretching my limbs one by one. Swiss flopped back onto his pillow with a sound that could’ve been a chuckle or an irritated snort.
“Why can’t we just do this like we’re doin’ right now? Like we usually do? And if it works, it works,” I blurted out.
“And if it doesn’t work, we fix shit and work on it until we get it right? Right? Is that what you’re saying?”
That wasn’t what I was saying at all. That meant we’d technically be together which I still wasn’t sure about. Even though he was finally saying the right thing, he was saying it all the wrong way. I couldn’t tell if this had anything to do with love or caring about me. I needed to know that he wasn’t just tired of being the odd man out when it came to his friends. That I wasn’t just his safety net.
I got up, making a big deal out of searching for my jeans to avoid his eyes.
“Yeah, something like that,” I replied over my shoulder. I didn’t want him to see the lie on my face as I gave him my walk-of-shame answer. I could only tell so much truth in one day. I’d have to find someone else to help me out. Swiss was too emotional and unpredictable. And here I thought I was the woman in the situation. Guess not.
I was walking toward the front door when it swung open so hard it bounced off the wall. A gloved hand reached in stopping it before it could bounce closed.
My mind instantly jumped to the one time where Shandy and Denise made me marathon Police Women of Broward County with them. We watched eighteen episodes of fools running from the police, and now I understood why they did it. My fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and the only option my brain kept giving me was to run. I knew clear as day that I didn’t want to go to jail or prison.
NOVIE
10
Woman to Woman
I knew that if I saw any part of the troop of officers that were outside waiting to swarm toward me, instinct would send me running for the hills. I, instead, went against everything I felt and waited with my eyes shut and my hands raised to show I didn’t have any weapons. I didn’t want to take any chances at having the cops think I was any more of a threat than necessary. These days, it didn’t seem to take a whole lot to get killed instead of apprehended.
My eyes snapped open at the dull thudding pain that shot through my left cheek. I caught her out of the corner of my eye drawing back for number two, and I sidestepped just in the nick of time. It was the same bitch who’d gone off on Javion earlier.
“I knew it! I goddamn knew it. I’m out here carrying your fuckin’ baby, and you playin’ me like a fuckin’ idiot. Who the fuck is—”
The pause only lasted for a split second, but it was long enough for me to see that she’d recognized me too, and long enough for Swiss to get ahold of her arms. He pinned them down to her sides while I swallowed the words I was so tempted to yell. They settled in my stomach like a big rotten potato. Swiss, my Swiss, was the homeboy Javion was talking about. My Swiss had been messing around on me the whole time I stayed away messing around on him.
If I decided to tell it, all the truth would fuck up this lie she was trying to keep up.
“Tinesha! Chill the fuck out. You are out of bounds right now,” Swiss yelled down at her.
She was so short she had to be half midget or some shit. Javion, I could kind of sort of see dealing with her, but not Swiss. I rubbed my jaw. It wasn’t broken, and all my teeth felt intact, but I could taste my own blood, and that pissed me off. If this bitch fucked up my face, I’d fuck up her little midget ass.
A shadow filled the doorway. “Get your hands off my sister, nigga.”
I turned toward the front door ready to square up, if need be. A taller version of Tinesha stepped in. They had the same bad sew-ins. She was bigger and meaner looking than her little sister, but that didn’t matter to me. What did matter was the sight of the toddler perched on her hip. I’d tried to imagine Swiss as a baby plenty of times, but there was nothing like seeing his mini-me with everything from his eyes down to his chubby fat feet. He couldn’t deny that little boy if his life depended on it. His hair was braided in thick plaits that ended halfway down his back.
It felt like my lungs collapsed. Not only did he get this heffa pregnant, he already had a baby. And after all this time, he never bothered to tell me. Those were supposed to be our babies. I felt myself deflating as I stood there. The girl holding the baby gave me a disgruntled look with her nose scrunched up.
Swiss was still contending with his baby momma. “Tinesha, stop hittin’ me. We ain’t together, and you know it, so stop with all this bullshit,” he growled down at her.
“So we wasn’t together when you was in my bed on Wednesday or Thursday night? We wasn’t together when you fucked me Friday morning before you left my house?” she yelled.
I couldn’t believe my ears or my life. How do two completely different niggas fuck the same ho and let me down in less than two days? And in that same time frame, I find out my daddy ain’t shit either. Men ain’t shit, I swear they ain’t. I didn’t even see any point in bursting Swiss’s bubble and telling him Javion might be the baby’s daddy. He would figure all that out in due time.
“Tinesha, I’m gonna go get Brandon’s diaper bag. Li’l nigga smellin’ ripe as hell right now,” the sister announced from the doorway.
Nobody heard her except for me, and I hoped she’d take as long as Swiss needed to get her sister calm. There was no way I’d be able to fight her off. She looked like a one-hitter quitter.
“Fuckin’ don’t mean we together, nigga. We was both horny, and we handled that. I been told you about getting all in your feelings,” Swiss told her.
Tinesha glared from Swiss to me and back again. She propped her hand on her hip throwing her words around with as much venom and spite as she could.
“Okay, Mr. Tin-man. So this is the bitch who supposedly got your goddamn heart? All right. Let’s see how bad she want that rinky-dink rusted motherfucka after I put that ass on child support. I’m gonna take all your fuckin’ money,” she spat at him before stomping toward the door. She gave me the ugliest, nastiest look. “Thank you for freein’ me of this nigga,” she spat at me. “You are more than welcome to wash his stank-ass boxers and clean the dirt from underneath his crusty-ass fingernails. And he gave me trichomoniasis, but that probably came from you anyway. I am so over this bullshit.”
Tinesha stomped to the door toward the sound of her baby crying from somewhere outside.
“On your knees with your hands up. We’ve got the place surrounded.” The amplified voice crackled through the loudspeaker. It penetrated the w
alls, pinging my eardrums, turning my heart into a lump in my chest.
I exchanged glances with Swiss before shaking my head at myself with my tongue in my cheek. These niggas were gonna be the end of me.
NOVIE
11
Peter Piper Picked a Partner
Tinesha’s sister stood by with a smug look on her face. It was fairly obvious that she’d gone outside to call the police. Who knows how many news stations my picture was probably broadcasted all over. An officer’s hand roughly mashed the top of my head, shoving me down into the back of a squad car. The handcuffs cut into my wrists as I met Swiss’s eyes through the window. He’d stopped arguing with Tinesha long enough to give me a pitiful look. His eyes said he was sorry, but I didn’t need his apologies. It was pretty obvious who his loyalty was with.
One phone call home and my dad would have me out of this bullshit. The thought made me lift my chin ever so slightly. I was determined not to need him or anyone. They owed me for all the bullshit they’d put me through, and that would be a debt I’d never collect. They needed to regret their choices for the rest of their lives. I took slow, deep breaths to keep from crying. The back of the car smelled like Fritos, Claiborne for Men, and coffee breath. The smell turned my stomach. I hadn’t killed anyone, but I knew this was the smell of my freedom slipping away.
The officers were huddled in front of the squad car. They were arguing over something. A few stomped away, arms swinging and all red in the face. It wasn’t long before a Range Rover with dark-tinted windows rolled to a stop on the street a few feet away. Half the officers nodded respectfully, the other half spit at the feet of the man who climbed out of it. He said a few words to one of them. All eyes turned in my direction in the backseat. He casually walked over and opened the back door.
“You must be Novie,” he said in a voice deeper and richer than hot caramel. “I hear you’re in need of an attorney.”
I couldn’t believe my ears, but I didn’t want to start thanking my lucky stars too soon. I eyeballed him up and down, taking in his tan flat-front slacks and the burnt-orange cashmere-silk vest peeking out from underneath his custom-tailored blazer.
“I might need one,” I answered suspiciously. “The real question is whether I can afford one.”
“They got you for a double homicide, right?” he asked casually, leaning with his foot propped up against the side of the car. He squinted up into the tiny bit of sun shining through the billowy clouds before turning his attention to Swiss and Tinesha arguing on the front porch. His cologne cut through the curry-scented hell I’d been sitting in. It was warm, peppery, and very masculine.
“A friend of mine called me and asked if I’d do this as a favor. I take it that you aren’t the type to take handouts.”
“I’m not. And I don’t do that whole sex for favors mess, so you can keep it moving, if that’s what you want.” I made a big show out of sitting back hard against the seat. It hurt my wrists like all hell.
“Okay, Novie, one of my legal assistants hopped up and moved to New York without any notice. I’ve got a big workload and no time to go through the hiring process. I will pay you and take a small percentage to cover my expenses if you’d like to do it that way. Sound like a fair trade?”
The cuffs on my wrists were cutting off my circulation, sending pins and needles dancing through my fingertips. That shit sounded too good to be true, but it sounded a hellafied lot better than working on the phones all day making cold calls to sell alarm systems. If all I had to do was sit in a stuffy office typing up memos to get myself out of this shit, then so be it.
“You have a deal,” I stated in a firm voice.
“Looks like you picked a good day to start a new career,” he announced with a grin.
I tried not to, but I couldn’t help staring at him as he moved past me to address the officers. Attorneys didn’t move like that, like predators. They thought like them all day, but Genesis seemed powerful and dangerous. He moved with purpose in confident, smooth strides. Like a tall, Guilty-by-Gucci-smelling panther. Mmmmph.
I was surprised when I was un-cuffed and released.
“Sorry for the confusion, ma’am. You’re free to go,” the officer stated.
The lawyer rocked back on his heels, clasping his hands behind his back. He flashed me a bright smug smile.
I rubbed my wrists to get my circulation back. My eyes traced the shape of his lips, curiously following the thin, jagged scar. It twisted the tip of his full upper lip into a tiny sneer that faded where his mustache ended beneath his aristocratic nose. Now that is a man. I tugged the tip of my tongue between my teeth. Okay, Screw Face, I thought, tilting my head to the side slightly interested. My stomach did high-speed somersaults at the idea of showing him my screw face. Mmmph. Know my ass needs to stop. Javion would try to snap him into four pieces with one hand.
“Okay, wait, hold on. Is that it?” I asked him quietly so the officers wouldn’t overhear me. “You say a few words, and we’re all done here?”
“Yeah, you are free and clear, and you’ll need to be at work tomorrow. We start at 8:30.”
* * *
He handed me a crisp white business card. Gold embossed letters spelled out Genesis Kane, Attorney-at-Law. It was the same card Momma had given me with the office address and his contact information listed beneath it. Well, shit, Momma must’ve had someone call in a serious favor because my luck was never this good. I blessed him with a bright smile. Let that nigga be jealous for a change. My ass was over being the caring one.
GENESIS
12
Girls, Girls, Girls, Girls
My steps were a little heavier as I walked into the office the next morning. No one knew exactly what went down at the Twenty-third Street Precinct, but the word was getting out about Javion and his boys. Even without his sister around, Javion was still making a name for himself, and for me as well. You can’t have a station full of cops go down, and I be the only lawyer who walks out. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, not to mention the tension I was getting outside of the office. I went to help out this Novie girl, not knowing if I was going to get shot or locked up in the process. Hopefully, she’d be better in the office than the last assistant I’d hired on a lookout. If I said it once, I’d say it again . . . I hate favors.
Work was usually my personal sanctuary from the world outside. The entire building was made out of this sunglasses-dark tinted glass. You could never tell if it was sunny, gloomy, cloudy, or raining. It always smelled like the inside of an expensive car dealership. Like soft leather, Colombian coffee, and frigid, filtered air.
I stood in the hallway staring at the empty space beside the sleek black ampersand on the marble wall. When I signed those papers, it’d say “Schaefer, Brockman & Kane.” Brockman was a silent partner that I’m almost certain didn’t exist. I gave myself a mental pat on the back as I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my fireplace-ash-colored Van Heusen slacks. The key fob to my new company car sat heavy on the inside. It unlocked a fully loaded Audi A8 parked in my very own personal parking spot. Paula was slicker than I thought. She’d already had it delivered and waiting for me.
I was still excited despite the gloomy circumstances. Five years ago, a nigga like me would’ve needed a lawyer before I would’ve become one. I didn’t care about shit like slacks or attorney meet-n-greet golf outings. And I for damn sure didn’t know the difference between a fairway wood and a hybrid any more than I knew the difference between the Aventador and the Murciélago. None of that shit mattered to me back then, but the old me was dead.
“You should be proud. You’ve earned it.” Paula came sailing toward me in a ruby-red pantsuit. Her Skippy-glow was on ten this morning. That’s when a woman tans so much, her skin looks peanut butter brown all year-round. It always made me think of Skippy Peanut Butter, crave a PB&J.
I tilted my head in greeting to one of the legal assistants passing by as Paula gave me an awkward we-not-fuckin’ pat on the back before
nodding toward her own name on the wall.
“I can’t believe you’re young enough to be my son and I’m making you partner,” she joked, displaying perfectly straight Chicklet-sized pearl-white teeth. She was ageist to the core. Paula broke out into hives if you put her in the same room with anyone over the age of fifty-five. And she’d slit you open, bathe in your blood, and eat your spleen without flinching if someone told her it’d take five years off her face.
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or a complaint, but I’m a conceited man, so thank you,” I answered.
“Ah . . . well, we’ve been soooo very . . . um . . . busy earlier that I forgot to say thank you for filling in at that symposium last month. As much as I hate going to Catalina with my husband, I hate speaking at those fucking things even more,” Paula chuckled.
“Not a problem. Anything for a partner, right?” I asked, giving Paula a wink. Those were her exact words to me when she needed my help making a rape charge discreetly disappear from Kharter, her oldest son’s, record a few months back. He was home from Harvard and didn’t know how to handle rejection from a bagger at a grocery store he thought was gay. Kharter stalked him, followed him home from work. Broke both of his arms and the guy’s nose before he raped him. A charge like that would’ve put a blemish on the family’s smudge-proof image. As much as that gay-shit repulsed me, I fixed it, with Squatton’s help.
Paula gave me an appreciative smile. She tapped the manila folder tucked under her arm. “I just need your Johnson . . . err, umm, your John Hancock. I need your signature—”
“Genesis Kane, my mothafuckin’ ass!”
Paula and I both turned toward the sound of a woman screaming at the top of her lungs in the main lobby.
“Tell that fake-ass, dead-beat, lyin’-ass nigga to come out here!”
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