Jahleel

by S. Ann Cole

  “Yeah,” unconcerned, Lion closed his eyes again.

  Twana remained quiet for a while, thanks be to God, and I started drifting off…

  Until she opened her mouth again. “Why do you get so pissed when I throw shade at him?”

  Taking a long, frustrated breath, Lion reopened his eyes and leaned forward, staring back at his girlfriend. “One, because JK’s my boy; he’s like a son to me, two ways. A son, and a fuckin’ sun. It’s people like you, with your hatin’ and shade throwin’, why the world can’t be a better place. He shines bright, doin’ nothing but being the ‘biggest asshole’ alive who’s blessed with enviable talent. And people be in awe, blinding and hurtin’ their own eyes. And two, because you always bitchin’ ‘bout how much you hate him, and you ain’t ever gave me a fuckin’ reason why.”

  Lion darted his eyes around the jet, checking if all on board were asleep. Even though he caught me peeking at them, he went on with his shocking question to Twana. “You fucked him?”

  Twana gaped at the unexpected question. “Of course not!”

  “Do you want to fuck him?”

  “Are you for real right now?” she angrily slammed her laptop shut.

  Lion peered at her closely, reading her. He was so good at that. “Then tell me. Now. Why does his name bother you so much?”

  She suddenly looked nervous, and by this time, I wasn’t peeking, but staring full-on. If she admitted to sleeping with Jahleel, I was going to jump out of this plane and kill myself. I wouldn’t be able to take it. No more.

  “Kay.”

  “Kay?” Lion blasted. “Are you serious?”

  Kay was Twana’s sidekick, who was also engaged to Lion’s brother. I hadn’t seen her in a while.

  “And he treated her like shit afterward,” she bit out. “So…that’s why.”

  “Why you mad at JK about a bitch who fucks on her man, T?!” he shouted. “Not even gonna ask if she forced it. JK would never go there. I’m sure of this.”

  “She did. He was shitfaced,” Twana admitted quietly, ratting on her own friend. “You can’t tell Dean, babe. Please.”

  “I’m not supposed to tell my brother that his fiancé pushed up on another man?” he asked incredulously. Thoughtfully frowning, he concluded, “That’s why JK all of a sudden decided to stop workin’ for me?”

  Twana lowered her head and whispered, “Yeah. He said you’d never forgive him if you ever found out.”

  Leaning back in his seat, Lion closed his eyes once more. “Kay’s not forgiven. She ain’t marryin’ my brother.”

  “Babe, pleas—”

  “No reason to forgive JK,” he cut her off. “He always said he’s an asshole with reason. I’m startin’ to get what he means.”

  I slept for 24hours straight when I returned home, as sleep was almost non-optional over the past three weeks. And I had a mere one week to rest before my schedule kicked up again.

  Showered, dressed, made-up and killing time before heading out to the studio, I lounged on top of the kitchen island, one leg propped up, the other swinging back forth as I popped roasted almonds into my mouth, Amanda lounged right there with me, shooting down every attempt at convincing her Zane’s her perfect match.

  Zane had been checking in with me non-stop, wanting to know Amanda’s thoughts on dating him. But I wasn’t having much luck with her. This much I’d expected.

  “Going by looks alone, he doesn’t seem like the type of man I can control,” she explained, helping herself to a fistful of my almonds. “He’s so tall and…intimidating. I don’t want to feel intimidated. I want to control. I have to be able to tell him to suck my toes and watch him do it without question or hesitation.”

  “Looks are deceiving,” I muttered, tossing a single nut up in the air and catching it with my mouth. “Like I told you before, when I told him you were dominant, he said, ‘That’s the reason I want her’, emphasizing the ‘that’s’ very much so.”

  “And it’s the oddity of that why I’m all the more dubious. I mean, who watches someone for a whole year to decide if they want to date them or not?”

  I laughed at her bewildered expression. “He was choosing you.”

  “Choosi—” I shushed her, listening.

  There was a commotion of loud, zinging, roaring motorbikes outside the house.

  “The hell’s that?” I mumbled, hopping off the kitchen counter and hightailing it through the house to the front door.

  Opening the door, I squinted against the glare of the sun to make out the people outside my gate.

  As the gates jerked slowly open, I counted three bikers. When the gates were fully open, one of the bikers pulled away in a slow and cautious rev down the paved path to the house. The rider wobbled a bit, then stopped. At this, one of the other bikers took off his helmet and yelled out an instruction.

  That biker was Chad, his hair a massive chaos atop his head. My heart made a single, hard, and thunderous beat, shifted over to the right of my chest, and sighed… Because, if that was Chad, then the other biker had to be Jahleel.

  The remembrance of Jahleel’s scent of bike exhaust and earthy cologne attacked me. My heart sighed again, shifting back to the left. My poor, piteous heart.

  But that sigh soon turned into a grunt of disapproval as I placed my hands on my hips. Because, if one biker was Jahleel, and the other was Chad, then the wobbly rider had to be—

  “Ferbie has lost his goddamn mind,” Amanda murmured from beside me.

  I’m going to kill all three of them!

  Adhering to whatever instruction Chad just gave, Ferbie straightened up and rode without fault this time, coming to a halt in front of the house.

  At the gate, Jahleel, with his helmet on, spun his bike around and roared off in a thin cloud of blue smoke. While Chad stood astride his bike, staring at the ground as though lost in thought. He ran a hand through his hair, tugged on his helmet and sped off as well.

  Ben drove into the residence a second later, and the gates closed behind him.

  Turning to Ferbie, who was now off his green Kawasaki Ninja and grinning at it as though it were a goddamn trophy, I yelled at him, “You bought a bloody bike?!”

  “Aye. Just.”

  “Are you insane? It takes training and skills to ride these things,” I shouted, marching down the steps. “Also, they’re dangerous. Do you know the speed at which you’ll fly off at this thing in the case of an accident? Twice the speed you’re riding prior to impact! No one survives a bike accident. The arms, the legs and sometimes even the head gets ripped off the body in a fucking flash! Do you kno—”

  “Ma. Ma!” Ferbie grinned at me, “You’re starting to sound like Timber.”

  I frowned at that, and Ferbie laughed and went on, “JK’s been teaching me for the past three weeks. He said I was ready and made me ride home on my own. I only slipped up at the front there because I was excited that I finally did it.”

  “Oh, Jesus.”

  While we were away, Ferbie opted to remain in SF and do dance training with Jahleel. I wasn’t fond of the idea, but I was desperate for him to be normal in some way, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and left him on his own for the first time since we moved here.

  Well, I assigned Ben to him, of course, but still, I wasn’t there.

  Now it became apparent he hadn’t been doing dance training alone, but bike training also.

  I’m going to murder JK.

  “Lend me your cell,” I stretched a hand out to him. “I wanna have a little chat with your new mate.”

  Ferbie took a step back from me. “No.”

  Taken aback, I arched up a brow at him. “No?”

  “No,” He shook his head to emphasize. “He’s the only friend I have.”

  “I’m not going to curse him out,” I cajoled him. “I just want to talk to him.”

  “Yes, you are going to curse him out. And then I’ll lose a mate. And I’ll hate you for it.” He took another step back from me. “You always get o
verprotective and growly as if I’m so dumb I can’t live on my own.”

  “Ferbie—”

  “He took hours out of his evenings, every day, for three weeks to give me these lessons. Hours,” he stressed, his voice raising. “I’m nothing to him and he gives me his time as if I am someone.” Taking steps forward this time, he faced me and took my hand in his. “He’s a nice fellow, Ma. He wants the same for me as you do.”

  Ferbie could try convincing me as much as he wanted, I still planned to put Jahleel’s head on a bloody pike.

  However, I smiled as though I understood, resting a gentle palm on Ferbie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I had no idea he was such a good person. I understand now. He probably won’t answer if I ring from my cell, so may I borrow yours to call him and thank him for taking care of you while I was gone?”

  Even though this was what I fought to shield him from, people taking advantage of his gullibility, I was guilty of it, too. But my intentions were pure.

  As usual, he bought it. Withdrawing his cellphone, he handed it to me and gave me a hug and a big grin before disappearing into the house.

  Turning to face Amanda, I instructed her, “Try distracting him so he doesn’t hear me screaming expletives at his new buddy, will you?”

  Amanda, all this time had watched us with an amused expression. She wagged her head and mouthed, “Witch,” before heading back into the house.

  As I walked a distance off from the house, I scrolled through Ferbie’s call log. The only numbers there were mine, Jahleel’s and Amanda’s.

  I dialled Jahleel’s number but it rang out and went to voicemail twice. Perhaps he was still riding.

  Killing time, I wandered around my water fountain—a naked baby angel with his tiny penis and tinier testicles.

  A couple of minutes later, I tried Jahleel again. He picked up on the third ring, but the background was helluva noisy with honking car horns, heavy winds and even a siren. “What’s the emergency, Ferbz?”

  If I wasn’t so pissed at him, I would count the deep concern in his voice as something genuine.

  “I’m gonna cut your fucking promiscuous dick off, that’s the emergency!”

  There was a long pause, then, “Oh shit.”

  “‘Oh shit’ is right, you—”

  “Hello? Sa-sassy?…Can’t hear you…very well! Might wanna…call back?”

  This fucker was trying to play me. Did he really think I was that dumb?

  “I know you can hear me, you lying sod!”

  As he started laughing down the line, I fought to hold back a smile.

  No. No smiling. I was supposed to be mad at him.

  “Listen, Sassy, I’m sittin’ at a stoplight and I don’t wanna get a ticket.” he said. “So I’m turnin’ around and heading back to your place so you can yell at me to my face, okay? Be out at your gate.”

  The line went dead.

  No! I couldn’t be mad to his face! Could I be a shouty hothead over the phone? Sure. But to his face? I would just melt into a human puddle.

  Jesus, why did I call him?

  Now with the knowledge he was on his way here, my palms all of sudden got clammy, and my heart was thudding loud in my ears. I contemplated leaving before he arrived, or ringing to tell him to turn back. But wasn’t this what I always wanted? His attention? I needed to stop acting like a fucking teenager. Seriously. He was just another human being. Like me. No big deal. No big deal.

  Growing a pair, I directed my steps towards the gate.

  “Miss Day?” I heard Thomas call out to me from the doorway.

  “It’s okay, Thomas,” I called back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Realizing I was missing the LV belt-purse I’d planned on wearing with this outfit, which also had my gate remote in it, I stopped and asked Thomas to go fetch it for me.

  I was dressed in a savagely cut-up black, sleeveless tee that showed off a lot of skin and my tats, pencil jeans, and a new pair of black Jordans.

  When Thomas returned with my belt-purse a few short minutes later, I latched it around my waist, opened the gate with the remote, and went outside to lean on the right column, waiting for Jahleel.

  Well, haven’t I been doing this for a while? Waiting for Jahleel? Yep. Five years.

  This meaningless wait, however, was different; this time, I was actually sure he was coming to me.

  The loud zinging from a distance reminded me of the quietness and seclusion of my neighbourhood. My neighbours sure as hell wouldn’t be tolerable of this obnoxious noise on a daily basis, now that Ferbie had a bike and all.

  As the noise drew closer and closer, my heart beat faster. When Jahleel turned the corner at the end of my street, my heart collapsed altogether.

  Get yourself together, Kia.

  Inexplicably, a surprising calm instantly came over me as Jahleel reached my gate and shut off his bike. Kicking down the stand, he threw his leg over the bike, pulled off his helmet and hooked it on the handle.

  His thick, brown hair bounced back into perfect loose waves as though nothing at all could ever perturb its perfection—not a helmet, not gravity, not winds or rain, nothing. But Jahleel raked his fingers through it nonetheless, seemingly unaware of how to-die-for his hair was.

  Still leaning against the gate column, I must’ve looked like an enraged baddie to him with my arms crossed, when in reality I was a drooling mess depending on the column for support.

  Causal as usual, he wore dark denims, a grey tee with the number 69 in bold red on the front, and black Timberlands. His gold irises seemed almost paranormal under the glare of the afternoon sun.

  Reaching into his back pocket, he took out a small box of Sun Maid raisins and tossed some in his mouth, chewing like a kid with his candy. Leaning back on his bike, he crossed his legs at the ankles, crossed his arms and pinned me with his stare.

  Can I just walk up to him and kiss him? Would he let me? Would he reject me?

  “Let me speak first,” he said, calm as you please.

  As a go ahead, I waved my hand. It’s not as if I was capable of speech at the moment anyway—I was still in drool mode.

  “You need to give him a little more credit,” he started “Yeah, he’s slow in some areas, so much to a point where it seems hopeless sometimes. But for the most part, he’s a quick learner. And honestly, I’ve never enjoyed training anyone as much as I enjoy training him.”

  “He’s not a fucking dog.”

  “I never said he was,” he replied, holding his cool. “Lessons. I’ll use the word ‘lessons’ since ‘training’ offends you so much. Cool?”

  When I didn’t answer and kept my arms crossed with a hateful scowl on my face, he warned, “Keep actin’ bitchy, Sassy, and I’ll just fuck you. I like fuckin’ bitchy bitches just to watch them cry and beg like the girls they really are.”

  My mouth dropped, and so did my hands, balling into mighty fists. How arrogant! “Well, aren’t you a nasty bloody wanker, you detestable bugger!”

  “What?” he said, scrunching up his face, looking lost. “Sorry, I don’t speak British,” he added with a careless shrug and continued on with the issue at hand. “If you think I’m a bad influence on your bro’, fine, I’ll fall back. My advice, however, is that you allow him to get out like he’s doing now to keep his brain active, instead of followin’ you around like a lost puppy. Hanging around you gives him no hope. The doctors haven’t diagnosed him with shit, so there’s nothing wrong with him. What he needs is patience, not being shut off from livin’ a goddamn life.”

  “How dare you accuse me of—”

  “Not accusin’ you of anything, Sassy.” Pausing, he slid his fingers back through his hair, “You know what, fuck this. I’ll fall back.”

  “Okay, then.”

  “Okay, then,” he echoed, pushing off his bike. He clapped his hands together and rubbed them in a ‘job complete’ gesture. “So, can I go now?”

  He asked the question but was already swinging his leg over his bike. />
  I didn’t want him to go. I’d acted like a bitch when he was, for a first, being nice—a refreshing break from his arsehole side.

  And even being pissed off and annoyed with him, I loved the feeling of him being near me. Also, I needed to make up with him, or Ferbie might hate me forever for chasing off his mate.

  “No,” I answered.

  Scoffing, he muttered, “Wasn’t really askin’, sweetie.”

  Sweetie? Ew. I hated that word as much I hated ‘baby girl’, and I figured he’d used it condescendingly, not as an endearment.

  Pushing off from the column, I made the few steps it took to close the distance between us. Shamelessly, I curled my fingers around the bike handle as a non-verbal way of asking him to stay.

  But as if I wasn’t there, he reached for his helmet from the other handle, his complexion a beautiful olive glow under the sun.

  “What kind of bike is this?” I asked, hoping he’d answer.

  Pausing his movements, he set the helmet down between his manly thighs, watching me without a word for several heartbeats. After a long moment of intense silence, his gaze fell to my lips and lingered. “Suzuki Hayabusa.”

  “Oh,” I trailed my fingers against the cool metal, grappling for something else, anything else to ask. What can I say to make him stay even a second longer?

  “You give a shit about this bike, Sassy?”

  Biting back a smile, I dropped my head and answered honestly. “No.”

  Leaning in, Jahleel slid a finger under my chin and lifted my face up so our eyes met. “So, can I go now?”

  As searing as his gold gaze was, I fought to hold it like a woman. “No.”

  With a sigh, he dropped his hand from my face, turned his eyes from me, looking off at some imaginary oasis in the distance. His eyes narrowed as he seemed to wrestle with some decision, his wheels churning.

  “Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing up the helmet from between his thighs.

  Thinking he was still going to leave, I moved in even closer, contemplating begging him to stay. But I was close enough now that he reached up and jerked the helmet onto my head, shifting my wild curls around so it fit snuggly.