Page 44 of The One He Desires

“For a nigga with much to lose, you haven’t learned shit,” I say.

Brian turns around on the stool to face me head-on as he chuckles like I’m a comedian.

“I think you’re on the wrong turf to be talking shit, my nigga,” Brian says.

Unlike the first time we faced off, I said all I’m willing to. Just as Brian opens his mouth to speak again, I punch him. The hit is so vicious that his head rocks to the right. Thankfully for me, Brian hops up, and I have an opponent. Brian swings, and his hit lands on the tip of my chin but feels like a love tap.

It pisses me off because a man who has been taunting the woman I love should be able to give me something more to work with. Unfortunately for Brian, it doesn’t stop me from punching him back-to-back. Fortunately for me, every hit lands like I need it to, but they do little to ease the storm within me. Every time I consider letting up from my hits, either Journee’s or Sweet Face’s sad faces enter my mind. Jab after jab lands on Brian’s face as I beat his ass for the old and the new. I hit him until I feel like Journee’s four years of misery are released from my body. By the time Cooper pulls me off Brian, he’s a heap on Ms. Waller’s grimy floors.

But it’s not enough as I bend so that there’s no question that Brian will hear and understand my words.

“Let’s get something clear. Every time your mind convinces you to be a fool and lead you to any side of town that Journee or my Sweet Face frequent, an ass whupping worse than this one will be waiting. Make this the only time I have to pull up on your bitch ass. You lost your rights to my family four years ago.”

Brian groans and mumbles ineligible words as I return to my full height, confident that we have an understanding. I take a couple of steps before another image enters my mind, and I turn back around. Brian is on his feet but wobbly, and his eyes widen when he sees me approach. I cock my fist and punch Brian hard enough to knock one of his teeth from his mouth as he crumbles to the floor. Then I turn to his friends and give one last directive.

“Tell that bitch nigga to keep his hands to himself.” With that, I head toward the front door as I wave to Ms. Waller, who blows me a kiss.

Cooper is on my heels and waits until we’re outside by our vehicles to say something.

“I thought homeboy was in the clear until that last hit. You made me proud in there, bro.” Cooper wipes away an imaginary tear, making me laugh.

For the first time since getting Journee’s call and my arrival at Club Sunkist, I feel light and calm. I hope Brian got and received my message. But if not, I’m going to let Jamarion handle it however he sees fit. It’s been the one time I've given him a no-retainer defense. Now that Brian is out of the way, I can go home and lie up under my woman.

Several Weeks Later . . .

Things have been quiet since I let Brian know that his torment and antics toward Journee ended with my first punch. But the problem is my woman and her nonverbal response to the last incident. Journee has been looking over her shoulder and making excuses for why she can’t leave her office at the boutique. She’s been staying at my house and has only returned to her apartment to grab more of their things. While I love having them in my space daily, it also infuriates me because the reason wasn’t Journee’s desire to be with me.

Somewhere between the last incident with Brian and now, my woman’s body is full of unspoken fear. It’s a side effect I didn’t anticipate. But it’s also something I can’t have. On the outside, Journee has been her normal bubbly, attentive, and loving self with Sweet Face and me. Yet during the course of the night as she sleeps next to me, she’s been jumpy and whimpering.

While Journee isn’t aware of the beatdown I delivered to Brian, it’s not a conversation I intend to have with her. I have to show her that there will never come a day when I don’t take care of her. As her man, my job is to secure her, to settle her, and to free her of anything or anyone who will disturb the peace I provide for her. That fact led to a conversation between Journee and me about what she would like to see happen regarding Sweet Face and Brian. Her response was simple: He can either go to jail or go to hell, whichever option removes him from Milan’s presence.

During the discussion, I was able to get Journee to give me Brian’s phone. The next day, I reached out to him from my office phone and put things in motion to grant Journee’s request. The first option was challenging without proof to get any charges to stick, especially since there isn’t a police report of him choking Journee. With no cameras around the boutique, there is no evidence that Brian had any involvement in the window incident. So, I had to move to the second option.

Thankfully for me, the fight between Brian and me had him engaging in the call without hostility or any bass in his voice. But of course, things weren’t as simple as I would have liked when Brian demanded a paternity test for Sweet Face. His excuse is that maybe Journee wasn’t as innocent as he thought she was since she’s not willing to let him be in his kid’s life. He’s lucky it was a phone call and not a face-to-face talk, or I would have punched him again.

“Do you have more than the security guard employed here? With his scrawny stature and lack of a gun, I’m not sure how effective he’ll be if BN decides to show his ass today.” Journee shifts her weight in one of the high-back chairs that’s in the conference room.

Martin and Cynthia chuckle as I peer into her eyes, hoping to restore the light that’s now dimmer than I prefer. We’re at my office, where the paternity conversation will take place regarding Milan. Martin is here as Journee’s documented attorney to dispute any conflict of interest from my standpoint, and Cynthia is present to obtain case notes. A magistrate, court reporter, Brian, and his attorney should be arriving momentarily.

“You can unfurrow your brows, relax your shoulders, and breathe easy. My cousin isn’t the only one prone to violence when the need arises. I can handle anything he throws our way today.” My words are low, steady, and confident as I lean over and place a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I’m trying to. I just want this to be over. Why did he request paternity, knowing I was a fool for him? Every day I look at my baby and want to slap myself for not waiting for someone better to be her father. I hate that this is her outcome.”

“It isn’t though. Sperm will never be the only factor for paternity.”

Gentle knocks at the door prevent Journee from saying anything else, and I have to fight my urge to ball my hands into fists when I see her light tremor.

“Good afternoon, folks. I’m Magistrate Mosley, and this is Ms. Reed. She’ll be recording today’s mediation session for the court.” An older Black man who appears to be in his early to mid-sixties greets the room.

Directly behind Mr. Mosley and Ms. Reed are Brian and his attorney. The air in the room shifts slightly upon their entry which causes me to put on my legal face. There’s a flurry of activity as introductions, instructions, and preliminary information are outlined for everyone. The first order of business is Magistrate Mosley reading the paternity results and confirming Brian as the person who successfully fertilized Journee’s egg. The language used is different, but my brain only processed that detail, as Brian has never been my Sweet Face’s anything.

“Jerk,” Journee mumbles low enough that only I’m able to hear her as I smirk in reaction.

“Now that paternity is confirmed, what would you like to place on the table for the court to consider?” Magistrate Mosley wastes no time getting things moving, and it’s something I can truly appreciate.

“It is my request that BN honor his word and relinquish his rights to my daughter. She wouldn’t benefit from knowing him, and I honestly don’t know why his interests have changed since four years ago. He hasn’t written or called me to find out if I had his child, had any of his relatives get in contact with me, send money, or anything, so why now?” Journee’s tone is aggressive and matches the fire within her eyes as she glares in Brian’s direction.

A frown slides into place when Brian huffs, and his eyes tighten as he focuses on Journee. My displeasure increases when he opens his mouth to speak because between my last hit and his arrival, he’s clearly had a lapse in judgment.