D’Kass Black Presents Jail’s Bait: Chains & Cuffs (Book 3)

‘…And that-that’s what you need, p-partna…. a NIGGA- a nigga like ME…’

‘like me…’

‘like me…’

‘like meeeee…’

I woke up in a sweat, my breath ragged and uneven, Trey’s phrase echoing through my mind, Joe didn’t notice my sudden return to reality; naked, he slept on and on as I got out of bed quietly, and crossed to the dresser, where I sat down, studying my sweat-soaked, horror-stricken face in the shadowed room.  There was no need to look downward to know that my boxers and tee-shirt were also drenched from my perspiration.  A glace at the digital clock revealed it to be that time just before dawn- the time when they say it’s always darkest.

Not as dark as my mood, I reflected. 

I looked past my own reflection to where Joe lay on his side of the bed, one corner of the bedsheet tossed across his back as he was lightly snoring.  I wondered as I stared at him what the hell I was going to tell him about my new law partner.  After we finished making love (?) in the car and I’d passed out, Trey had revived me and then drove me back home, getting a cab from my place before anyone else could show up.  Luckily the boys were still out and Joe had yet to come home for the day from the prison.  I'd showered quickly and crawled into bed, feigning fatigue and illness when Joe came home later on.  I was so disgusted with myself and how lose I acted that I didn’t leave the house since. I stayed home from work also yesterday, so as to avoid Trey- and I let all his calls go to voicemail.  I just HAD to speak to Joe first, and also decide just what I was going to DO about Trey.  There was only one incontrovertible fact that kept ringing in my head, over and over…

I wanted him.

I wanted Trey like I had NEVER wanted anyone in my life.  He made me feel so, so… ALIVE, such passion..!  I wanted to get to know him.  I wanted the birthdays and the Christmases and the vacations, the parties and the plays, the opera and the caviar, Cancun and sex-on-the-beach (the drink AND the event)- all with Trey.  These were also (I could finally admit to myself) all the things that I never really wanted to do with Joe.  On the few trips we have gone on I just went through the motions, but I hadn’t really enjoyed myself.  And the fact that he was happy just made me content.

Content…?

‘Content’ is something someone should never JUST be in a relationship.  It should have passion, fire- my relationship with Claire was all of those things in the beginning, which is why we stayed together so long even after Lamar was born.  We could read each other’s mind on a lot of things.  We still kept in touch, she calls to check on our son all the time.  We developed a friendship and a level of comfort-ability in our relationship that still remained as the romance died out.  With Joe all I’ve felt is… nothing, really- except a burning desire to rather have a V-8 than to be with him anymore, now that Trey’s come along.  Trey put the hope of a happy future back into my head.

Yet all this was going too fast.

I couldn’t just jump out of one relationship and crawl into another one without catching my breath; yet, suffice it to say, I have come to the conclusion that I just couldn’t be with Joe anymore, if I could even think of being serious with another man.

Joe shifted, and in his sleep his arms reached out for me.  It seemed prophetic, that this gesture would become a permanent one soon- Joe reaching out for me, who would no longer be there.  I even tried to find some sadness in my heart for the death of my relationship with Joe, but my heart was too excited about learning more of Trey.  The shadow of Saturday’s dawn light was creeping into the east window.  Come morning, I would sit Joe down and tell him about my feelings and end this once and for all.

I would be an eternal fool, however, to tell him anything about Trey.

I saw that the message light on my cell phone was on.   I picked it up from its charger and, grabbing my bathrobe, I crept out into the hallway, sitting on the top of the stairwell.

 

A darkened room with the open door at the end of the hall revealed that the boys weren’t home; possibly they were either at a club that was still open or they were over at Malik’s house, they sometimes stayed over there if they were closer in proximity during their daily excursions.  So much the better, I thought to myself as I clicked open the phone and accessed my messages.

(BEEP) ‘Hey, Mr. Clark, it’s Malik.  I dunno if u herd from Lamar but he an I… had a fight.   He might not wanna be nowhere I could find him till he calm down so don’t worry iight?  He jus coolin off, but I’ll find him an bring him home.  Iiight one.’1 (click)

DAMMIT, I thought, thinkin bout where my son could be staying at, hiding from Malik.  It didn’t sound like it was a fist fight, must be a lover’s spat.  I thought about putting a APB out but that might embarrass Lamar more than help.  I was about to get up and go wake up Joe to help look for Lamar when the next message kicked in.

(BEEP) ‘Ummm, this is the fifth time I tried to call you, Danny.’

My heart did a back-flip and my ass twitched like it was starving.  Even over the voicemail, Trey sounded so …sexy, I yearned for him.  This shit was so confusing.

The message went on. ‘Danny, I know you are probably avoidin me and I probably deserve it, threatenin your relationship like that.  I-I’m sorry, it’s just that I have this feelin when I’m with you, like I can see us doing the holidays together, Christmas, birthdays, Broadway, Cancun- all of those things.  I wanna just talk to you… listen to you, all that… I just want you to know that it’s more than me wantin to fuck- not that that’s a problem- but it IS more than that- for me at least.  I just want to get to know you be-‘(click)

“Awww SHIT,” I said aloud, jumping up from the steps.  “The got-damn message clicked off..!”  But what I DID hear, the things he said… he wants those things too, everything I want with him, HE WANTS WITH ME… a tear escaped my eye and dropped to the floor.  Right then I wanted to call him, to tell him that we could have that, and put my arms around him, never to let go again…

“We’re going to do this, Trey,” I said, closing my cell phone back up.  “We’ll be together, I promise you.”

“And who’s Trey..?”

I whipped around.  Malik was standing there in Lamar’s bedroom doorway, a full set of pajamas on and slippers.  He looked like he hadn’t been to sleep at all.  “Malik,” I whispered, catching my breath.  “You can't DO that, I might have fallen down the stairs.”

“I jus might push u if u don’t tell me who da FUK dis Trey is,” he said menacingly.

“I just got your voicemail, and it seems as though you might be upset... Yet you WILL not forget yourself, and especially in MY house,” I snarled right back in a menacing whisper.  “I could care less that your father is sleeping right behind that door,” I said, jerking my thumb behind me, “I’ll teach you proper manners..!"

Malik stood firm, resolute- and then he just broke down.  Large, thick tears of his own spilling down across his face.

I’d hadn’t seen Malik lose it like this since the night he found out that Joe was his biological father- the night of the disastrous First Dinner with the fellas…  I went over and put my arms around him.  Malik clung to me hard, I almost couldn’t breathe.  “It-it’s Mar,” he sobbed.  “I fuckd up, Mr. Clark… I fuckd up r-r-real bad.  And n-n-now he p-prob don’t w-w-want me no m-mo,” he choked out.

“Shhhhh,” I soothed Malik as I led him to the stairs and down to the kitchen (lest we wake up Joe), where we sat at the table and I held onto him with a father’s hold until the storm of weeping passed.  I knew that Malik was too rough in his outside life to break down like this to his boys, but he knew that he didn’t have to hold back how he felt in our home.

After a time Malik grew quiet, and he reached for some paper towels which rested on the table, wiping his face and blowing his nose.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Clark,” he said brokenly.  “I ain't mean ta do all dat.”

“It’s perfectly understandable,” I replied, taking a paper towel and wiping the rest of the unbidden tears from his chin.  He stared at me, all little boy-like.  I was reminded sharply of how much he lost as a child, growing up without a father’s counsel.  “Do you want me to go get your father?” I asked, thinking that maybe Joe might want to be the one to handle this.

“Naw, he sleep,” Malik said.  “I wasn’t gonna wake u neitha but since u wuz up…” and then he haltingly told me the story of what happened at the mall the afternoon before.

”.,And I know dat Mar aint gonna belie me when I tell him I aint let dat ho on me like dat, she just jumpd on it cause she saw a hard dic in her face.  An right az I was gonna get her off me, here cum Mar in da back to see eerything.”

 

“Well, I believe you, Malik,” I said.  “You do have a tendency to lose all rational thought when someone grabs onto your dick.”

“You mean like that time you did it over by the stove last year?”  Malik painfully reminded me.

“Yes,” I sighed; “not my proudest moment, I have to say.  But since I’ve done it, I can say that I believe you when you say it wasn’t really your fault.  But Malik, you have to realize that you can't go running about with so little self-restraint.  Jerking off in the stock room just because you miss my son can't be the norm, you must understand.”

Malik nodded.  “I get dat- it’s all my fault.  I aint gonna never live dis down,” he said, tears splashing on his cheeks once again.  “Mar aint never gonna forgive me.”

“Malik- if my son could forgive both you and me for what WE did, I’m sure he’ll overlook this obviously loose woman who practices on jumping the first hard dick that swings in her face.  If he sees it from your perspective (something I know my son is capable of), then I’m sure you guys’ll work though even this.”

He just put his head in his hands and just sat there, mired in his own grief.

“I don’t know what else to say that could help, Malik,” I finally commented, thinking that in no uncertain terms could I possibly judge or condemn him after the debacle I’d committed in the front seat of my car not two days ago.

“I'm a total fuk-up,” Malik said; “yo my bad, I aint mean to cuss u and all dat…”

“No problem,” I assured the boy.  “As a matter of fact, since you decided to tell the truth about what happened to you, I can return the favor.  Now Malik, this has to remain between us until I can talk to your father,” and then I proceeded to fill Malik in on Trey and the events of the night before last.

After I was finished Malik just sat there, his mouth open.  “And I thought I wuz a fuk-up,” he said, completely forgetting the fact the he tried not to swear around me.  “Wow, in your front seat?  Dayum,” he said, shaking his head.  “And you really don’t love my popz, huh?”

“I gave it my best, you must believe me,” I began.

Malik put up a hand to interrupt.  “I believe you did,” he said; “how could I not, when you took a chance to believe my story?  Look, if dis Trey’s who u wanna be wit den go for it,” he said, patting me on the shoulder; “but just do me dis favor an let my pops down ez, iight?  He gonna b hurt but jus give it to him real gentle an shyt, he really loves u.”

“I know,” I replied ruefully, “and that’s what’s killing me now.”

“…You say dis kat’s name iz ‘Trey’, huh?” Malik asked.

“Yes, why do you want to know?” I asked, suspicious of Malik’s intent.

“It’s jus… dat kinda name aint too common round hurr,” he said.  “I think I hurd my momz talk bout a Trey once, Trey-sumthin.  I gotta ask her bout dat,” he said, frownin.

“Still tryin to check up on me, huh?”  I asked.  “You would think YOU were the P.O.”

Malik laughed quietly.  “Naw, Mr. Clark,” he said, getting up from the table, “I just wanna know dat dis kat aint gonna fuk you over neither.  Just cause you an my pops aint gonna be 2gether no mo don’t mean I’mma stop carin an shyt…” and with that he headed off for the stairs.  At the foot of the banister he paused, looking back at me.  “Mr. Clark?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for listenin,” Malik smiled wanly.  “I think I could sleep now.”

“You’re welcome.  By the way, Malik?” I called behind my back.

“Yea?”

“We’ll deal with you losing your job tomorrow, okay?”

“I wuz kinda hopin you aint hear dat part,” he grumbled as he headed up the stairs.

I sat at the table a while longer, feeling sorry for the woe that was coming for both my sons once Lamar and Malik faced each other.  I was suddenly glad that Lamar took off for the night; please God let him let off some steam first- then there wouldn’t be so much bloodshed, I inwardly prayed.  Not that there wouldn’t be bloodshed anyway when I face my own lover with some terrible truths, I admitted to myself as I got up from the kitchen table and headed up to bed myself.  I just hoped that wherever Lamar was, he was doing just fine…

***

Sittin on da bed after talkin to Mr. Clark, I remembered jus why I trusted him so much when I was lockd up.  He got such a calm thing about him an shyt, I love him wit all my heart… an I knew it had nuthin ta do wit da fact I was fukkin him once… I jus- jus love him as a father-son thang.  I knew I had a pops, but it-it’s different wit Mar pops an me.  He jus did so much fo me, not stuff like my own pops giving me shyt and buyin me things, but real deep-type shyt, like stikkin his beck out when he didn’t hafta when I wuz up fa parole in dat robbery charge.  Shyt like dat you don’t never forget- he gotz loyalty from me fo life an shyt.  I was just worried still bout Mar- I aint know where to even begin lookin for him.

I guess Mr. Clark really helpd me to calm down cause jus then I remembrd then two things.

One wuz from da street-life trainin me an Mar both had when we wuz 15 from this older kat named Spoonie- he had moved out hurr from New York- da Bronx I think.  We wuz runnin guns and money for him befo I got lockd up.  Spoonie was cool enuff wit me an Mar, so he tol us he moved out hurr to Seattle cause of sum shyt dat happened back home- sumthin bout one of his boyz, his name wuz named Dante- who had killd off another one of his boyz named Tyrell, then shot himself- but he had used Spoonie’s gun ta do it.  Spoonie hadda bounce den cause his fingerprints was all over dat .38 an he swore me an Mar to secrecy… he said he had tol us about dat cause we had kinda reminded him of Dante an Tyrell, da both of us…

Anyway Spoonie tol me an Mar one real good thing to always remember- if we wanted to hide sumthin, whether it wuz doe, drugz or ourselves, always hide it where no one would think to look- which wuz rite in plain sight.

Dat wuz da first thing I remembrd.

Da second thing I remembrd wuz dat look dat Rah-Rah gave me.  Like he had jus won sumthin when he saw Mar catch me wit my dic in dat hoe’s mouf.

Sumthin clikkd in my head den; I KNEW where Mar was.

In a cold haze I dressd in my black panthers (whut I call my black boxrs, black jeanz, black hoodie, black du-Rag, black get-away driver gloves, da all-black Iversons) an reached for my own all-black .38, slippd it in da waist of my boxrs and headed downstairs real quiet, so Mr. Clark wouldn’t hear me if he wuz still up.  Outside it was still real cold an still real dark.  I didn’t even notice, all I could think of is getting over there- over ta Rah-Rah crib.

Pullin my hoodie up over my head, I pickd up da pace, dissapearin into da darkness.