“Are you really ready to leave, Jakia? I mean, honestly, in your heart, can you leave your husband and not go back? That means you can’t give in and go back even if he comes running after you with empty promises. If so, I will help you leave and get a fresh start in life. I’ve told you from the moment I saw your beautiful face that I would be there to help you, and I meant it.” I remembered back to being stretched out on the concrete in front of the hospital, and the moment before when Spade told Rocko to pull over so I could roll out of the backseat. The memory of it was bittersweet but also strengthening.
“Yeah, I am. I can’t take it anymore. This nigga’s love is gonna send me to the grave, more so than it already has.”
“Okay, then without a doubt—my offer is still on the table. I will help you in any way possible. What do you need me to do right now?”
I breathed a sigh of relief and started moving through the house so I could hurry up and get out. Xavier’s willingness to help was vital to me leaving. “Oh my God, thank you! Please keep your phone on and your volume up. I’ll be calling you as soon as I’m able to get out of this house.” I whispered like I wasn’t in the house alone.
“Okay, I will. And be safe. If you need me to help you get out of there, I’m here.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll be in touch shortly.” I hung up and ran upstairs.
It was time to make a break for it. I grabbed my oversized Gucci purse and proceeded to stuff it with a few pair of panties, Spade’s cash stash for emergencies, and some toiletries to start me off with. Then I threw a few outfits and shoes into the matching backpack and slipped it on. This wasn’t nearly a sixteenth of my belongings, but without a car, I had to travel light. I wasn’t sure I even wanted any of the things I’d accumulated with Spade because they would be memories of our relationship—or the crimes we committed.
I don’t know why, but when I went to walk out of our bedroom, I felt strings tugging at my heart. Then my mind started playing tricks on me, and I started hearing Spade’s and my voice arguing, him yelling, and my screams begging him to have mercy on me. I couldn’t leave without doing something rebellious. I dropped my bags, darted toward the closet with hate in my heart, and started ripping everything off the hangers that were Spade’s. I got his favorite shirts, pants, jogging outfits, and sneakers, then tossed them all into our bathroom and poured Clorox bleach all over the top of them. I emptied the entire bottle, then grabbed some other random bathroom cleaning solution and dumped all of it in as well. The smell was so strong and overpowering that I felt light-headed and had run out of the bathroom before I passed out. I wanted everything of his ruined. If I could’ve gone out like Left Eye and set flame to his shit, I would have, but it would’ve been pointless without him here in it to burn to death.
As soon as I was done running through the house and breaking random shit, including all of Spade’s video game systems, I peeked through the blinds so I could see which neighbor might tell Spade I’d left. Although I’m sure they’ve heard my pleas for help, they’ve never sent the cops, so I figured they’d tell Spade I ran away too. I knew his nutty ass would be on some door-to-door shit trying to find me. I wanted a clean break.
It might’ve not been the best decision, but it was my only decision, and I didn’t have time to plot out another. There were only two doors I could go out of: the back door and the front door. The front door had my neighbors outside of it chatting, and my back door was dead bolted with a gate up to it because Spade wanted to make sure no one ran in on us. The only move I could make was out of the window. And since the alley was in the back of the house, I was able to run down it and get away from my block unnoticed.
The wind felt good hitting my body as I ran from the house I’d been a prisoner in. I’d learned to live with Spade for so long, that I didn’t think I’d ever have the courage to break free, but I was, and I didn’t have any intentions on being weak enough to run back. I sucked and swallowed on the brisk air as it hit me in the face like it was giving me some energy. The farther I got away from the house, the freer I felt. But each time a car zoomed past or revved the engine in my ear’s hearing, I feared it was him and ducked down, petrified of getting caught. My heart sank when I saw a bus pulling up to its stop. I didn’t know its final destination, but I knew it was going away from the house. Reading the route listed on the front screen, I pulled my cell out and called Xavier to let him know how to trace me. Had I had more than this bootleg Obama minute phone, I could’ve used my GPS or Maps application to lead me to his house.
“Oh my God, thank you,” Xavier answered after the first ring. “Jakia, I’ve been worried since we hung up. Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes,” I gleefully replied. “I’m at a bus stop waiting to get on. Stay on the phone with me until I load so I can ask the driver where it ends or at least where you can pick me up.” I ran down the route information on the front of the bus hoping it was enough for him to start searching for its route.
“I’m already on Google looking up the information. I’ll meet the bus in transit, if necessary. I’m proud of you, Jakia. You’re doing the right thing because you deserve better. This Spade cat is nothing good for you or your future.”
His encouragement was giving me the extra juice I needed to keep pushing. Up until meeting Xavier, I hadn’t had the ego even to think I could survive on my own. “I know; trust me, I do. But it feels good to hear you say it.”
The passengers in front of me were taking too long to load the bus, but I knew I had to be patient and wait my turn. Nervousness was bubbling inside of me, and I wanted to scream out that I was on the run from my abusive husband and could they speed up, but I kept quiet as one of the women ahead of me wrestled with her toddler children to get them on the bus.
“What’s going on, Jakia? Everything good?”
“Yes, I’m just waiting to load still. I’m so scared.” I pulled my shirt up over my nose and ducked my head down so my face wouldn’t be so out in the open. I felt too vulnerable.
“Okay, be calm. Try to breathe and watch out for your surroundings. I don’t want to scare you, but you’re going to have to stay alert.” Xavier was trying to coach me through the process. I was glad he was on the phone.
“I’m trying.” I tried breathing, but my chest was heavy with anxiety. “Do you need help, miss?” I tried asking the lady, but her kids were yelling too loud.
Right before I got the chance to put my shirt back up to my nose, I looked up . . . to see Spade staring me directly in the eyes. “Oh my God! Oh my God! No! Please don’t let this be happening right now,” I cried out.
“What’s wrong? Jakia! Talk to me!” I heard Xavier screaming to me through the phone, but my mouth felt paralyzed.
All I could do was hang up so I could run. I clutched my purse and took off. People were honking their horns as I ran across traffic carelessly and recklessly, looking for a way to get away from Spade.
“Hey, bitch, I’ma kill yo’ ass,” Spade yelled his threat across traffic.
Pop! Pop!
Yes, indeed, this nigga wanted my blood on his hands because he didn’t care who saw what he was doing. Spade was sending gunshots in my direction, and if he caught up with me, I knew he wouldn’t spare my life. I’d come too far to give up without going all the way out.
“Jakiaaaaa,” his voice echoed.
Pop! Pop!
Please don’t let him kill me. Please don’t let me die. I’ve come this far. God, if you ever wanted to show up, make it now!
I’d run out of my shoes trying to get away from the man I used to want to spend my life with. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw he’d bust a U-turn already and was trying to maneuver through traffic—all while sending bullets flying into the air. I cut down a side street, then ran into an abandoned house. It was full of trash and smelled like death, but I was out of options and needed to hide from Spade. Xavier had been calling me back-to-back since I’d hung up, but I was too scared to slow down so I could answer the phone
. I couldn’t wait to get him back on the phone.
“Hello, Xavier, sorry,” I whispered in a panic as soon he answered. The phone didn’t ring all the way through once. “Spade saw me and was shooting at me as I ran. I’m scared. If he finds me, he’ll kill me, I know.”
“Shooting at you? Man, this punk-ass nigga needs to see a real man,” he shouted. For the first time in any of our interactions, I heard his gangster match Spade’s. I didn’t know what to think of that, but this wasn’t the time to ponder it or have an opinion. “Do you know where you’re at? I’m already in the car and will come straight to you.”
I gave him the address, then begged him to be fast. “But be careful. You don’t know my husband—he’s crazy as hell,” I warned him.
“Jakia, whatever you need, please tell me, and I’ll help.” His voice sounded just as passionate on the phone as it did at the hospital.
“Trust—your husband doesn’t want to know me. Keep your phone on and answer it when I call. I said I’m coming to help, so I’ll be there. If you weren’t on a minute phone, I’d let you breathe into my ear until I arrived.” He made me giggle.
We hung up, and I kept still and quiet until he pulled up. I don’t know why God was blessing me all of a sudden, but I hoped he kept doing so.
20
Spade
I tapped my gun against the dashboard while blowing on a Christmas cookie blunt. I know I told Rocko I’d cut back, but I’d save that feat for the moment we’d pull out of Detroit. I needed to calm down because it was about to be off with everyone’s head in this neighborhood because no one had any answers for me. A woman on foot running—someone should’ve seen. But everyone shrugged me off claiming not to have seen a thing.
I went from being pissed than a bitch that Tiff wasn’t home to being relieved. Had she been, I would’ve never come back home or caught Jakia red-handed running away from me. But now back to reality, that meant there were two bitches loose in the world for me to catch up with.
“Where you at, cuz? I just got done riding up and down about twenty blocks, plus going inside a few stores, but I’m coming up dry.” Rocko delivered me bad news.
When we got back to the house and realized she’d dipped out, I jumped back into the shot-up Impala, and Rocko got in his truck to help me search for her. Jakia being missing was a bad thing for both of us. Just like Lezlee snitching to the dead man’s wife would’ve been a negative domino effect on us too.
“About to be on my way to the crib. I’ve been creeping around too but ain’t come up with shit. At this point, she better stay tucked away ’cause I’ll probably pop her disloyal ass.”
“Chill out, cuz. Something tells me she won’t be gone for long. These streets will eat her up. I’m about to fall through.” Rocko ended the call. I hoped his words were true.
I didn’t like the sense of control I was losing. Cuzzo was trying to play things down, but raw reality was staring me boldly back in the face. There was no doubt I felt Jakia was responsible for them random Mexican cats trying to gun Rocko and me down. At this point in the game, you couldn’t tell me shit differently. Now she held the fate of Rock and me in her hands since Lezlee was already a goner.
In one quick motion, I wiped my nasal passages clear, then snorted the fine white powdery substance off my steering wheel. The instant high felt just as good as coming. So much so that my eyes rolled to the back of my head as my body craved to enjoy each moment. “Jakia, my sweet baby, Jakia,” I moaned out into the car still in disbelief she’d gone against the grain. Expected or not, I was fucked up.
The more the high settled in, the more I wanted to sniff. Jakia might’ve been missing, but this coke-a-licious goodness was taking her place. My reflection through the visor mirror was hard. My eyes were bloodshot red, and the white residue from the continued snorting I’d been doing was caked underneath my nose. Wiping it way, I put a few droplets of Visine into each eye, then pulled away from the corner I’d been posted on.
Back at the house with enough time to check for Jakia’s damage, I saw that she tried pulling a Waiting to Exhale scene by a bleaching a few of my clothes. I didn’t let it fuel my anger though ’cause she’d pay for it later, for sure. Other than that, she hadn’t taken much of anything, so I knew she’d be back. There’s no way she could survive out there without any money, necessities, or my strong hand to keep her in check.
The few dollars of my pocket change she’d swiped wasn’t going to get her more than a few extra value meals and a couple of nights at the Days Inn—at best. I knew Jakia. And as many nights she’s spent around here nursing bruises, she wasn’t about to take the struggle of the streets. Phoebe had given her enough of being poor growing up. If I cared to think about it in the morning, though, I’d ride through her old hood to see if she was that desperate.
I stripped down to my drawers, then grabbed a bottle of Moët from the fridge. Guzzling from the rim, I walked through the house with my piece in one hand and the bottle in the other. If Jakia was low-key hiding, she wouldn’t be for long. I knew better than that, though. I’d seen her get ghost with my own two eyes. Hell, baby girl damn near committed suicide in traffic trying to get away from me. The high had me twisted, but I wanted more.
I dumped another line of coke onto the windowsill and snorted it off hard. Since I didn’t have Jakia to work my anger off on, my secret, pricey drug would have to do. The higher and drunker I got, the more enraged I became. I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to leave a nigga out here bold.
Instead of taking another sip, I tossed the champagne bottle into our glass living room table. The sound was piercing as the glass shattered and flew across the room. A few pieces cut me in the process, but I was floating off coke and aggression—nothing mattered. Having this emotional reaction was something new to me. I couldn’t help but to spaz out. “If you want out, bitch, be out,” I shouted into the empty house, stepping over broken glass.
I took two steps at a time up the stairs, burst through the bedroom door, and began giving Jakia exactly what she wanted. Pulling all of her clothes from the closet and dresser drawers, I was going mad crazy tearing up the expensive things I’d allowed her to floss. Had it not been for my setup skills, she would’ve still been living bold with old-head Phoebe’s ass.
“You ain’t flossing nothing for another nigga that I made possible. Fuck you and him with a sick dick,” I shouted, throwing a tantrum induced by both emotions and drugs. Shoe boxes and old shopping bags fell from the shelves, and that’s when I stumbled upon the one thing I’m sure Jakia didn’t mean to leave behind. My eyes lit up like a kid in the candy store as I raced to read Juan’s letter to Jakia from prison.
Jakia, baby sis . . .
Thanks for the cash on my books. But I’m so sorry for sending u to that bitch nigga. It was hard reading the type of shit u out here doing.
My word, when I’m out, he gonna have 2 explain his beef with u. I swear to Allah I’m gonna take care of shit, sis, better than b4. I been learning shit in here no man can take away, and fuck that nigga for putting his hands on u.
I wish him death b4 I get out cuz payback gonna be a bitch. Have u seen Momma in them streets? I gotta get my whole fam right. Be strong, sis. I talk to my lawyer in a few days to give up Spade and his ho-ass cousin.
4u, I’ma let the grain hold itself down and come out like a snitch. I love u, sis. It’s cool. Ain’t no man worth my time. Be strong ’cause u got that Coleman blood.—1
Juan
“I oughta kill her ass.” I threw the letter down, not believing what I’d read. I looked at the date seeing it was a little over five weeks ago—before we’d even dipped off to Monroe or gotten married. That means Juan has seen his lawyer, divulged whatever information he was going to use as leverage, and could even be out by now. No wonder Jakia seemed so comfortable coming at me like the little gangster I’ve trained her to be. She thinks Juan’s dumb ass is coming home....
Jakia obviously told Juan everything sh
e could regarding our relationship, and he was sitting up with nothing but time on his hands taking it personally. If that nigga thought he was about to send me to the pokey on an old charge, he’d end up shanked in the showers first. I was sure there was somebody from the hood locked down who wanted their books kept filled for handling his rat ass.
Rocko was on his way, but I couldn’t wait for him to arrive to enlighten him about Jakia and Juan. We had to figure out a game plan to take care of Juan sooner than later. Just as I got ready to hit “call” on my cell, my text notification went off.
Tiff: What up, nigga? You been trying to get at me?
Before I could send a response to check or question her about her whereabouts since I was suspicious about her being with those Ramos cats, she texted me again. And this time, it was along with an attached picture.
Tiff: I was at the doctor about our baby; doesn’t he/she look cute?
I opened the photo mail, saw the sonogram, then felt foolish for believing she’d set me up. The more I studied the blurry gray, black, and white photo of what looked like nothing to me, I knew it meant the world to Tiffany. In other words, this baby meant she’d eat for eighteen years with no worries. Tiff wasn’t stupid enough to have me murked, knowing I wasn’t a man with a life insurance policy. To her, I was better alive than dead.
Instead of taking another hit of straight coke, I lit a flame to a Christmas cookie blunt and tried to get my mind right. Tiff was indeed gonna keep the baby, Jakia was in the air, and these Ramos cats were on my head. I should’ve been trying to piece the puzzle together of why they were trying to kill us and for whom. Instead, the harder I thought, the harder my dick got. I needed to release a nut, so maybe the tension within my body could lighten up. I texted Tiff back.
Graveyard Love Page 18