📍Bottom Lane, Warwick Avenue
Azar's Residence
...A few days later

JODIE

I gotta say, I love a nigga who can laugh me out of my draws.

Shaking my head at the thought, I roll over onto my stomach and pull the pillow beneath my chin.

I smile at Jahiem's face through the screen. We've been on video call for like fifteen minutes now, and he's been making me laugh nonstop.

He's way more laidback outside the classroom than he is when he's pretending to be Mr. Professional.

Something I always find refreshing.

Plus, I crave the distraction honestly, at least it takes my mind off things ——— and by "things" I mean a certain someone——— no matter how temporarily.

I study Jahiem's face ——— his clean jawline, fresh fade, with soft curls cropped tightly atop his head. He's shirtless, sprawled out on his couch, his dimples showing as he laughs.

Why man affi look so sexy when dem just trim?

I subconsciously bite my lip as a stray thought pops into my head.

"Why are you lookin' at mi like dat?" he suddenly asks, lips already curling into that cocky smile.

If he didn't say anything, I wouldn't even realize I'd been staring.

I blink out of my daze, sitting up.

As if finally processing his question, I resist the urge to blush.

He knows exactly why.

I can tell by the look on his face.

His eyes are low, brows arched. He's giving me that look.

I roll my eyes and grin. "I wasn't looking at you like anything, sir."

"Eeeh?" His voice dips, teasingly. "Gwaan tell yuhself dat, man."

I pout, and he laughs.

I shift on the bed and look away from the screen for a second, 'cause he's right and he knows it.

I'm craving him; it's actually hard not to. There's much to be desired: the way he listens to me, touches me, kisses me—— although how he eats me like he's starving and I'm a full course meal is the cherry on top.

When yuh talk 'bout a man weh good wid him tongue, a him that.

I often makes me wonder if his waist can rival his face.

But I won't give in. I know the minute I do, it's over. There won't be any turning back. It will also be harder to pretend and keep things casual after we've crossed that line.

Although, honestly, that's not even the main reason.

It's more the fact that I can't stop thinking about dirty Dario.

That piece a shit.

Jahiem doesn't even know he exists. And I'm not ready to explain. Not when I don't even know where Dario and I stand.

My mind drifts to a few nights ago, twisting my lips into a frown.

Since that night in his car, I haven't seen nor heard from that man, and I gotta say it hurts my feelings.

Especially since it means I've been fucked and ghosted.

And by him of all persons.

Pushing the thought behind me, I sigh.

My eyes go back to the screen just in time to catch the look Jahiem's giving me.

I blush. “Awah?”

“Noth'n.”

“Really now. So what's with that look then?”

He shrugs.

“Tell mi nuh, and stop ramp.”

“Just a medz sum'n and a wonder yuzeet. Noth'n too serious.”

“OK, don't tell me.” I roll my eyes.

Jahiem laughs and a chill creeps up my spine at the same time that something else trickles down my thighs.

Fuck.

Feeling embarrassed, I look away, as if he can sense it through the phone.

"Yuh horny?" he suddenly says, forcing my attention back to the screen.

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from blushing. "Wah?"

"Just a pree how yuh nipple dem stand up stiff..."

Watchya! I play it off with a laugh. "So wah that affi do wid you, sir?"

Jahiem smirks. "Come link mi mek mi show yuh."

"Huh?"

Stay deh 'bout "huh" like yuh deaf.

"Come over."

My eyes drift to the time at the top of the screen.

"At one-thirty in the morning, Jahiem?" I scoff. "Yuh see the time?"

Mi not even did a realize say a so it late.

And I'm not even sleepy.

"Ano walk yaggo walk. Or tek bus."

I laugh, but he doesn't return it.

My smile slowly fades.

Is he...

I can't believe he's being serious right now.

“I can’t believe you’re serious,” I voice the thought, pulling the blanket over my chest, to hide my nipples which are indeed erect.

And the thin spaghetti strap blouse I'm wearing leaves nothing to the imagination.

Jahiem’s face fills my screen as he brings the phone closer. “Yuh shoulda know mi nuh run joke fi purpose when it come on to certain things, babes.”

Babes?

Deciding not to dwell on it, I hum.

“So wah that mean? Mi fi come fi yuh?”

“Again, at one-thirty?” I raise a brow. “Sir, be so for real.”

Bet if a Dario did a call yuh outta door right now, yuh fly gone.

...hush up.

“So wah'pn to that?” Jahiem presses. “After ano like yawh do anything else right now.”

That's no excuse for me to go to your yard though, is it?

“That’s not the point.”

He stares at me. “A style thing?”

I blink. “What?”

How that drop een?

“Style thing wid wah?” I'm fighting hard to keep the attitude I want to give him in check.

To think we'd been all giggly up until now. Sigh.

“Mi affi ask. Cah mi cyaa understand how mi can say mi a dealid a woman and me cyaa even see her if mi waan see her.”

I hiss my teeth. “Jahiem, seriously. Don't do that.”

Why him a act brand new?

I told him from the get go that I wasn't looking for anything serious. He agreed. It was a win-win for both of us ——— he'd get my attention, and I'd get my pussy ate without any unnecessary commitment.

So why the sudden change a mouth now?

I exhale sharply, jaws clenched. Still, this isn’t new. He’s been on my neck for weeks, begging, sweet-talking, trying to convince me. And I rejected the offer every single time.

Because why is he so eager to fuck? Like...

“Yuh know wah, yuh probably affi go stop call mi so late a night time like this then,” I say flatly. “If it's gonna be the same thing everytime.”

He watches me for a moment, in silence, eyes slightly narrowed, until he breaks it saying, “So why you answer?”

That catches me off guard.

He fixes me with a pointed look, then adds, “You coulda ignore the call. But you didn't. So don't come tell mi nuh fuckry.”

I stare at the screen, quietly. He’s not wrong. But I’m not giving him that win.

“I was bored. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Bored,” he repeats, smiling again. If bipolar was a person. “Eeh? Then mi nuh can fix dat.”

He licks his plump lips, and my attention lingers there for a few seconds before I catch myself and look away.

Jahiem obviously notices since he chuckles. Then smirks. “Matter of fact, a easy one-two that fi fix.”

I roll my eyes. “Please to leave me alone, sir. Because you clearly think pussy is the solution to every problem known to mankind.”

He chuckles under his breath once more. “Nuh really. But it can solve most things, tho.”

Haha. Funny.

I don’t reply. Instead, I simply pull the blanket up over my shoulder and adjust the camera angle so he sees less of me.

“So?”

His voice draws my attention back to him. I quirk a brow. “So what?”

“Yawh fawud?”

Yuh deaf seh no!?

...why dah man yah waan mi tell him 'bout him parents though, God?

“You do know I’m not one of those random girls you can call out of bed like this, right?” I murmur.

“I never said you were,” he says, his tone more serious now. “Just a mek yuh know say mi like yuh, B. Mi want yuh. And mi tired a the runaround. Tell yuh dat already tuh.”

My stomach tightens, but I keep my facial expression neutral. “I told you...I’m not ready for that yet though.”

Seemingly taken aback, Jahiem goes mute. He holds my stare for a few seconds before hissing his teeth, running a hand through his beard. “Jah know? Yuh know say a fool yuh tek man fah?”

Seriously? “With?”

“Everything good, man. Handle yuh business.”

I don't like his tone.

I may be seven years younger than him, but I'm not a child. So don't use that tone with me. Bright!

I roll my eyes feeling irritated. “Yuh know wah: goodnight, Jahiem.”

I'm not in the mood for the bullshit right now.

I swear!

He sighs through his nostrils, nods once and gives me a clipped, “Cool.”

The call ends.

With a loud hiss, I toss my phone onto the other pillow, lay back, and stare at the ceiling.

Yuh know mi cyaa stand man sometime!

Kiss mi fucking teeth.

°

°

°

📍Central, Warwick Avenue
Club House

Thursday: 4:30 P.M.

DARIO

"Dawg, mi figot fi ask yuh, a weh yuh go wah night?" Kimbo says, eyes locked on me as he takes a pull from the spliff in his hand and exhales a plume of smoke.

I don't answer right away. Instead, I lean back on the zinc fence behind me, eyes focused on clipping the grabba in my palm.

We're outside the Club House, where we've both been smoking and chilling for the past ten minutes or so.

Kimbo chuckles under his breath. "No, bredda, mi affi ask. Cah from yuh dip leff wi a di club inna di night deh  'bout yaggo mash a works, yuh start act...off."

I slowly lift my eyes to meet his. "Off how?"

"Like yuh pick up some gyal weh a mash up yuh meds." He scoffs. "Mind issa crawsis pussy yuh guh meddle inna eno, yute..."

I scoff, wetting the wizzler with my saliva then spitting the excess to the side. "Crawsis gyal cyaa hold mi, bad charge, and yuh know dat."

"Eeh? So yuh feel?" he says, grinning now. "Yuh naggo know 'til yuh go deh and get ketch."

Removing the baby-tail spliff from behind my ear, I slip it between my lips, light it up, and take a long drag. I hold the smoke in then release. Weed yah weak yuh fuck! "That's why ano any and anything mi fuck."

Yuzeet.

No loose gyal cyaah cross my borders too tough.

Yuh sick?

...Nuh know how some man feel comfortable fi stick dem hood inna certain typa gyal wid certain lifestyle.

Not me a bomboclaat.

Wasteman style dat.

Kimbo snorts. "Chat yawh chat, man. But big and serious stillz, a wah really gwaan? Yawh move kinda haunted couple days now fi real."

I exhale smoke through my nostrils and flick the ash from the tip of the spliff.  "Mi good, man."

"Good?" He leans forward, eyes narrowed. "How that sound so?"

Him nawh leggo dis now eno. Jah Jah.

Regardless, I play oblivious, giving him a nonchalant shrug. "Sound how?"

"Mi nuh know. Like yuh nuh too confident 'bout that." He coughs. "All right now yuh look fuck up. Y'ave dah likkle guilty look deh pon yuh face."

"Awah, di pussy neva good?" he adds before I can respond; most likely change the subject too. 

Feeling cornered, I sigh, then mumble below my breath, "That's the thing...it was too good."

Ano lie.

"So waah di problem den, badman? Yawh move like yuh touch something weh bloodclaat forbidden, Teflon dawg. A wah di fuck this. Mi neva see this yet."

I glance at him for a split second too long. 

He sees the look on my face. I sigh. 

And his mouth drops open, the look on his face almost comical. Woulda laugh, but ano laughing matter. "Hold up! Stick a pussyclaat pin! A who?"

Rolling my shoulders back, I straighten my stance. Inna one position too long, mi foot dem cramp up. "Mi nawh call nuh name, dawg. Just know say mi fuck up. That's it."

"That sound like..." he trails off. Then pauses to catch up on himself.  "Like...a somebody close?"

I don't respond.

But that doesn't faze di likkle pussyhole. Instead, he stares blankly ahead, stroking his beard. 

"Hold on, dawg, mek mi see sum'n," Kimbo says after a minute of silent contemplation. "Which gyal dat coulda be? After mi nuh too see yuh chat up to nuh gyal boh yah. Except...wait...mi pussyclaat!"

Bredda yah dramatic yuh fuck.

Real fuckry man eno.

"Yow." His voice drops a few octaves, like it has finally sunk in "A Jodie?"

The sound of her name makes me briefly tense, although it goes unnoticed. Again, I don't answer.

"Bloodclaat," he mutters, then leans back with a low whistle. "Dawg, tell mi seh yuh never-—"

"It just... happen," I cut in, grinding my teeth. 

"How?"

Woulda ask miself the same question. In fact, that question has been living in my mind rent-fucking-free for the past three to four days now. Yet, I can't find an acceptable answer to it. 

Kimbo's face twists into an expression I can't quite describe right now, since I'm too high to think clearly. 

"Nawh say mi have nuh right fi police a man hood eno, dawg, don't get it twisted. But Jodie?" he emphasizes her name, discombobulated judging by his tone. "Yuh likkle "sister" Jodien? Same 'B' weh yuh woulda fuck up any man, who come cross certain way, over?"

Without giving me a chance to respond; not like I had anything plausible to say, he scoffs and goes to sit on the lone concrete block beside the pile by the fence.

"That's why mi tell some man say, eno, nuh man cyaa be platonic friends wid nuh woman, bredda. Nuh matter wah dem feel like. Especially when di woman attractive certain way. Nuh matter how yuh try fi fight it, yuh affi get a rise or urge at some point —— unless yawh bomboclaat battyman!"

"Nuh man cyaa tell mi noth'n!" He tsks. "'Cause watch ya...see it deh now, yawh prime example."

I rub the back of my neck, feeling the heat creep under my skin.  "Mi never plan it, dawg. It wasn't like dat."

"But it did happen."

True. I look away. 

He exhales a deep breath, then goes quiet for a moment. Before saying, "So wah? She say she regret it or sum'n?"

"Honestly, I wouldn't know..."

"Wah!?"

I fix him with a pointed look. Did ago mek a comment but mi nawh badda.

"So you and har nuh talk 'bout wah gwaan?"

"Mi nuh see her. Nor do I want to."

"Dawg, yawh listen to yuhself? Di fuck yuh mean? So wah? Yuh finally fuck her, after so much years, and now yawh ghost her?"

My lips press together. Fucked up of me, I know.

"Teflon..." Kimbo hisses his teeth, staring up at me through narrowed eyes. "Yawh wasteman, dawg?"

"Mi nuh ghost her, dawg..." I start, but trail off as soon as the words leave my lips. I know I'm lying. He knows I'm lying. "Mi just...a gi' her some space. Mi nuh know...in case she regret it."

I can't say whether or not she does. 

And I honestly don't want to hear it, if she does.

Big woman t'ing. 

And it's strange, 'cause usually I don't give a fuck.

If mi do fuck a gyal, it's usually a 'one and move' type thing anyways. 

No regret, no second thought.

But for some reason, this whole thing has me fucked up.

Guess it's because it's her.

But why? 

I clear my throat and the thought along with it. 

"Bullshit," Kimbo snaps, bringing my attention back to him. "Mi and yuh know say a hide yawh hide from the truth. Yuh 'fraid say she ago look pon yuh different. Mi get that, honestly. Cyaa say mi wouldn't probably do the same thing if mi did inna yuh shoes too. But, then again, yuh know wah worse? When woman care 'bout yuh and yuh treat dem like dem never matter, dawg. Take it from me, been there, done that."

That one stings a little more than I expected.

'Though his reasoning is a bit surprising, coming from a man like him, I totally get where he's coming from.

Truth is, since that night,  I've been conflicted as fuck -- a part of me wakes up every morning expecting a text from her, hoping she'd be the one to reach out first—but not really wanting her to, if you get what I mean. Yet, every time my phone lights up, my heart skips, and every time I realize it's not her, I feel both relieved and disappointed.

Sum'n can go suh, dawg?

...Like mi a get off to pussyclaat. 

Jah Jah.

"Mi know that, bad bro. But mi nuh waa fuck things up more than it done fuck up already, yuzeet," I mumble, feeling dejected all over again. I've crossed a line I can't uncross. 

Now it's best I just fall back and allow nature to take its course. 

If she ends up hating me in the process, then so be it, I guess. 

"Yeah, mi see eh pree, but yuh cyaa mek things stay like this either," Kimbo fire back. "She deserve better than silence, bredrin. Even if yuh cyaa fix it, at least face it. Mi wrong or mi right?"

I hum.

I know he's right, but I don't admit to it.

Instead, I take another drag from the spliff, nestled between my fingers, holding the smoke until it burns. 

My eyes drift down the lane as a white Axio slowly pulls onto the avenue. 

My posture immediately shifts, with me automatically easing off of the zinc fence I've been leaning against, eyes narrowed.

Kimbo notices and turns to look too.

The car rolls a few blocks down then stops—engine still running. Both the windshield and windows are heavily tinted, so I can't see who's behind the wheel. 

"Yow," Kimbo murmurs. "Yuh know dah car deh?"

I shake my head once. "Never see it before."

It could pass as any other Axio I've seen around, except for the red lining and chrome rims. 

He sucks his teeth. "White Axio wid tint? Inna our lane? At dis hour? Nah man."

I share the same sentiment. 

Especially considering how fragile the Turf is lately. 

Cyaa too tek nuh check certain way...

"Check di plate," I say below my breath, my eyes still zoned in on the car a few feet away. I can barely make out the numbers though, eyes foggy from the grades I've been burning. 

Kimbo leans a little, pretending to tie his shoelace. "1825HD" 

Ah. 

The car doesn't move even after about three minutes, it's engine still running, nor does anyone come out. 

My tongue feels dry, so I drop the rest of the spliff and grind it out with my heel.

"Mi nuh like this a bloodclaat," Kimbo say under his breath. "Why the fuck dah pussy deh park up desso so long? And why mi nuh feel like dis random?"

"Could be dem just lost," I say, but even I don't believe that shit.

"Lost?" He glance at me. "Inna broad fucking daylight?"

Ignoring his comment, I slide my phone out my pocket and send a quick text to Smurf.

ME: Yo, bad bro. Check fi a strange Axio pon di ave now. White, full tint, park up. Red lining and chrome rims.

Can't afford to assume anything.

Even the air feels different now—like the whole lane is holding its breath.

The driver finally inches forward again. Slow, deliberate. Then picks up speed,  driving past us like nothing happened.

Still on high alert, I turn my body slightly, angling my back to the wall, my right hand hovering just above the glock in my waistband. Just in case.

"'Memba dah plate number deh," I say.

"Ah," Kimbo replies. "1825HD. Code."

As soon as the Axio reaches the end of the lane, it turns left and disappears around the bend.

Neither of us move for a full minute.

Nor do we speak, until Kimbo breaks the silence saying, "Mi nuh trust dat."

"Same," I say, still watching the corner.

We both know what that could mean. 

On the other hand, it might've been nothing. 

But where we're from, acting like something is nothing can potentially get you killed.

And mi woulda dumb if mi mek a bwoy snipe my three points just so.

Just then a text comes in from Smurf. I open it and read what it says. 

Smurf: Yo, di pussy dem liff up by time mi reach, but mi can easily run di plates. Yuh did get di number?

ME: #1825HD

Smurf: Kl. We'll link.

ME: Ah. Nuh say 40. 

My mind drifts to the likkle Axio bwoy once more and I get irritated all over again.

I scoff. Some man audacious yuh fuck!

Pull up pon man block just so?

Fi wah? Scope it out?

And think all is well?

Them mussi crack inna dem head part, bredda.

Fuck dem think this is.