Love Me 2, page 1
part #2 of Love Me Series
Contents
1. Takari Evans
2. Journey Evans
3. Jerrod Evans
4. Za’Kai “Bully” Kemp
5. Valentina Garcia
6. Takari Evans
7. Za’Kai “Bully” Kemp
8. Journey Evans
9. Takari Evans
10. Za’Kai “Bully” Kemp
11. Jerrod Evans
12. Za’Kai “Bully” Kemp
13. Valentina Garcia
14. Takari Smith
15. Journey Evans
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1
Takari Evans
I heard my phone buzzing on the nightstand in the five-star hotel where I was staying, but I was way too tired to roll over and answer it. I’d had a long day. When I was offered the business advisor position, of course, I was aware of the fact that sometimes this job would require me to travel, but I didn’t think the traveling would be so soon. On top of that, I didn’t think the meetings while we traveled would be so long and draining. I, along with a few coworkers arrived in Atlanta early yesterday morning, and since then, we’d been on the move nonstop. I’m talking, as soon as the plane landed, all we really had time to do was check into our hotels and change into whatever clothes we were planning to wear to the meetings.
Meeting after meeting is what my yesterday was filled with. If that wasn’t enough, when the day finally looked like it was at least half over, the owner of the company decided that he would like to take everyone out to dinner. By then, it was well after nine at night, and my body was in competition with my feet because I didn’t know which one hurt the most. I was new to the company, and I didn’t want to come off like I was distancing myself from everyone else, so as tired as I was, I still accepted the free meal with everyone else to Ruth Chris Steak House.
Because the day was so long and tiring, I ended up ordering a couple of drinks, along with everyone else, just to wind down some and relax. We didn’t end up leaving the restaurant until a little bit after one in the morning, and by the time I made it back to the hotel, showered, and made sure that my luggage was packed for the early flight that I had in the morning, I didn’t end up getting in the bed until a little bit after three o’clock this morning. So, now, here I am, not even feeling like my eyes had been closed for longer than thirty minutes, and someone was calling my phone back to back.
As selfish as I wanted to be, and as deaf as I wanted to play to the sound of my phone vibrating on the counter, I had to remember that I had three kids at home. Three kids at home where something could have happened to them, and just the thought of that was the only reason I removed the sleep mask from my eyes and I sat up in the bed. Looking exactly like a woman who was deprived of sleep, I angrily snatched the phone off the charger. As soon as I did, the phone stopped ringing.
It was my sister, Sky, calling. In fact, the call that I’d just missed was her fifth time calling me. Along with her nonstop calls, she’d sent two text messages, with bold letters, telling me that it was an emergency and that I needed to call her back. Immediately, I started to think the worst. For one, look at the time! It was 5:35 in the morning, and my sister was calling and texting about an emergency. I knew this shit couldn’t have been good, so before I even knew what the hell was going on, I’d already jumped out of bed and started throwing on the clothes that I had laid out on the back of the chair that faced the computer desk in the room as I dialed my sister back at the same time.
“Shrimppp!” she cried into the phone the second the call connected.
Hearing my sister sound all weak and emotional had me frozen in place. The phone was on speaker, and I stared at it with confused eyes as one leg was inside my joggers and the other leg was out. Anyone who knew my sister, Sky, you knew that her ass didn’t cry for shit. I used to tell her all the time when we were younger that she should have been a boy, because, at times, I felt like her ass was so ruthless and like she wasn’t in touch with her feelings.
Growing up, I was always the one crying because of the absence of our father, but Sky was the complete opposite. I never saw her shed one tear over our father not being there or over any other problems that she and I dealt with growing up for that matter. I used to wish for her type of strength, because, at times, I would feel like a cry baby or as if I was weak for showing some type of emotion.
“Sky, what’s going on? Everything alright? Where’s ma? How are my babies?” I asked, rattling off question after question.
I was asking the important things. The things that would have her calling my phone at almost six in the morning crying like someone had just been murdered. Everything had to have been alright. I’d talked to all three of my children the night before, and they all were tucked in their beds at their grandmother’s house about to go to sleep. I told them how much I loved them and that I would see them in the morning and take them out for dinner and ice cream the next night. My babies had to have been alright.
“Shrimp, no! I don’t want to tell you over the phone… I can’tttt… buttt… you gotta come home. You have to,” she said, and for whatever reason, a tear fell from my eyes.
I knew it was bad; I could hear it in Sky’s voice that whatever she was trying to keep from me was probably going to break me down to my core. It was to the point that I almost didn’t want to know. Like, I almost wished that I never answered the phone because then I wouldn’t have to face this reality. With shaky hands and with a heart that was beating out of this world, I took a seat at the foot of the bed as I tried my best to find some type of courage and ask what needed to be asked. I had to ask. It was the only way I would know what the hell was going on back home.
“Did something happen to one of my babies? Tell me no, Sky! Please tell me no,” I said, sounding the most vulnerable that I’ve ever sounded in my entire life.
I was so fucking scared. Tears were falling nonstop, but I didn’t have the slightest clue as to what was going on right now. It was just a mother’s intuition that I had right now. I could feel it in my heart that something wasn’t right with one of my kids.
“It’s Jaden, Shrimp,” I heard her say followed by an anguished cry.
I looked down at the phone and noticed that the call had ended. I sat there for five minutes trying to call Sky back, but she wasn’t answering the phone. My own mother wasn’t even answering her cell phone. I was a concerned mother, and at this moment, all I wanted to know was what the hell was going on with my son. I had just talked to him hours ago. Literally, I had just finished telling him how much I loved him and that I was coming to get him in the morning, so what the fuck could have possibly happened that fast?
In that moment, not only was I concerned, but I was angry. Angry that I was miles away, and I couldn’t get to my son as quickly as I wanted to. As I ran around the room throwing everything into my luggage, I was trying my best to remain positive. Every I told myself that everything was alright, I would lose that confidence because the piercing cry that I heard Sky release over the phone proved to me that everything wasn’t alright.
I was finally out of the room and taking the elevator down to the lobby, so I could quickly get into the Uber that I’d requested. Once I was inside the car, I got ready to call Sky one last time, but a text message came in from her. She let me know that they were at Memorial Hospital and that she would explain everything to me once I arrived. As much as I wanted to curse her ass out because I felt like she was playing with my emotions, I didn’t because I knew my sister, and my sister knew me. Her not giving me the full details of what was going on was only to protect me and my feelings.
I was finally at the airport, and my flight back home wasn’t set to start boarding for another two hours or so. After I went through security, I walked back and forth in the same little spot for two hours straight, wondering about my baby. I was talking to God out loud, asking Him to wrap His arms around my baby and protect him. I was crying. Crying because I’d never been so scared to face anything in my life. I felt lonely too. I had tried to call Jerrod’s phone twice because, at the end of the day, this was our son that we shared, so he would be the only one to somewhat feel what I was feeling right now, but my calls were forwarded straight to his voicemail.
On the plane, I was so anxious. So anxious that I wanted to get up there with the flight attendant and drive this plane myself even though I didn’t know the first thing about flying a damn plane. When the plane finally took off, mostly everyone on the plane had taken a nap, while I was up like I’d just downed ten whole energy drinks. Luckily, I was sitting on the second row of the plane, so when the plane came to a stop for landing, I was one of the first few people off it. I damn near ran through Fort Lauderdale airport, trying to make it to baggage claim so I could retrieve my luggage. In the process of doing that, I had to have accidently bumped into almost ten people that I didn’t even bother apologizing to because I was such in a rush.
Now that I had my luggage, I quickly made it outside and requested another Uber to take me to the hospital. I sent Sky a text message, letting her know that I’d made it, and she quickly text me back that they were all waiting for me. Inside the Uber, I threw my head on the back of the seat in defeat. So anxious and so angry, I ended up raising my fist and pounding myself in the forehead with it because I felt like I had no control over this entire situation. The Pakistani driver looked at me through the rearview mirror, and I knew that he had to have been saying to himself tha t I was crazy and was probably ready to get me out of his car.
I swear, I didn’t even wait for the car to come to a complete stop before I swung the door open and grabbed the little luggage that I had with me. Then I hightailed it through the sliding hospital doors.
“Hello. My son, Jaden Evans, was brought here,” I said to the security that was sitting at the front desk. I went into my wallet to retrieve my ID because I already knew he would ask me for it.
“He’s in the trauma unit—”
“Trauma unit? What are you talking about?” I asked, stopping all action.
“Ma’am, I’m not sure. My job is to provide information on your loved ones’ location. He’s in surgery right now, so you can go to the fourth floor and have a seat in the waiting room. Here you go,” the security guard said as he passed me a badge.
This morning was only getting worse and worse by the minute. Knowing that the security didn’t have anything else to offer me, I quickly got out of the line because there were others behind me who needed to get checked in as well. I wasn’t even walking as fast as I was when I came inside the hospital because the closer I got to the elevators, the quicker I would find out this news, and I didn’t think I was ready.
On the ride up to the trauma unit, I didn’t even bother to wipe my eyes or my nose for that matter because I already knew that once I found out, my emotions would only get worse. I was finally off the elevator, and I saw the waiting room sign, so that’s the direction I went in.
As soon as I walked inside, I was met with all my family. My daughter, Jada, was sitting in Sky’s lap but quickly got up when she saw me and she took off in my direction, looking like she had the weight of the world on her little shoulders. Her eyes were blood shot red, so I already knew that she’d been crying. As weak as I was, I still bent down and lifted her body. She crashed her little head into the crook of my neck, and I felt her hard crying. Hearing her cry only made me cry even more.
Journey, my oldest child, was sitting in the corner of the room with her knees drawn to her chest as she rocked her body nonstop and silently cried. The yellow pajama top she wore was covered in blood. More than likely, my sons’ blood. My mom, Sky, Brooklyn, and Kassidy all sat there holding onto similar faces, and I could tell that none of them wanted to be the bearer of this bad news.
“What’s going on with my baby, y’all? Why is he in trauma? What’s going on?” I asked. All the while, my voice shook as I tried to console and rock my daughter in my arms because she hadn’t stopped crying since I walked into the room.
“I’m sorry, Mommmyyy... I’m sooo sorryyyy,” I heard Journey say from the corner of the room.
She was hysterical with her cries, almost as if she felt guilty about something. Hearing my daughter apologize for my son being laid up in the trauma unit in the middle of surgery, had me looking at her sideways. This wasn’t going to end well; I could feel the shit in my soul. I handed my daughter back to Sky, and as if I was a football player, I rushed over to Journey and tackled her ass. My small body went on top of hers, and like the mother that I was, who deserved some fuckin’ answers, I shook the shit out of her as I cried.
“What the fuck did you doooo? What did you doooo?” I cried, still shaking her and wanting answers.
She was crying too. Sky and Brooklyn had rushed over, trying to pull me off her, but I had the strength of a lion right now, so nothing or no one could get me from on top of her.
“He wasn’t supposed to come outside, ma. I was arguing with my boyfriend, and Jaden must have followed me when I snuck out the house. They started shooting outside, and… and… one of the bullets hit him in his chest. I’m sorry... I’m so sorryyy,” she cried, and I lost it.
As if she was a bitch off the street and not the same little girl that I carried in my stomach for nine months, went through twenty-three hours of labor without any pain medication, changed her fuckin’ diapers, and everything else that comes with being a mother, I went the fuck in. It took every one of my family members in the waiting room to pull me, someone who is nicknamed Shrimp for being so little, off Journey.
“Are you fuckin’ crazy, little girl? Do you not remember that a few months ago you were laid up in a fuckin cold ass bed getting a baby sucked out of you from this same man who probably doesn’t give two fucks about you? Look at what you did! Your selfish, hard headed ways caused my five-year-old baby to get shot! That’s my fuckin’ baby back there, Journey! Get the fuck off me! Get off meeeee!” I cried.
There were so many people holding me down and trying to make sure I didn’t go after Journey again, and that wasn’t doing anything but making me even angrier. No matter how much I screamed and cried for them to let me go, they wouldn’t. In the end, the only thing that got me to calm down in the least was Jada. She’d never seen me behave like that before, and because of that, she was hysterical and yelling for me to stop. It took a lot of convincing, but I was finally able to calm myself down.
Once I was calm, they released me. I didn’t care to sit on one of those hard ass chairs, so I stood up instead. I paced the room, and in seconds, I could detected the scent of an all too familiar cologne. I’d been smelling that exact cologne for years, so I already knew who it belonged to. He walked in, and the first thing I noticed was how much his eyes matched mine and everyone else’s in the room. That wasn’t the only thing I noticed about him either. The same way I wasn’t wearing my wedding band anymore, he wasn’t wearing his either. He thought he was slick by wearing this hoodie to try and hide the big hickie that was on his neck, but it was too late.
My anger toward the entire situation overpowered any ill feelings I had toward Jerrod, so I didn’t even bother to waste my breath and say anything to him. As if me and no one else in the room existed, he walked in and took a seat all the way in the back without saying a word. For almost two hours, nothing was said in the waiting room between any of us. The only sound that could be heard was Journey’s constant sniffling and the sound that my slides made from me continuing to pace the room.
“Is this the family of Jaden Evans?” a doctor finally walked in and said. He must have been fresh out of surgery because he was still in his green scrubs.
The doctor was an older white male, probably in his late fifties, and I was trying to read him and his body language. Anyone could tell that he was stressed, but that wasn’t what I was worried about. I was too busy trying to read him. I wanted to somehow be able to predict the type of news that he was going to tell me and my family. He was the golden ticket right now because he had all the answers. At this moment, I was looking up to Him, pretty much similar to the way that I knew that I was going to look up at God when judgement day finally came.
“First, let me say the surgery was a success. Jaden sustained a bullet wound that fractured a rib and punctured his lung, which is a common injury with gunshot wounds to the chest. Luckily, we were able to remove the bullet, but not so luckily for little Jerrod because his little body will be in an extreme amount of pain. It could have been worse because his injuries could have been fatal. Sometimes, you’re more likely to survive twenty bullets than you are to survive one. He’s still sedated due to the medications that were given to him for pain, but when he does wake up, make sure to let him know how strong he is. He withstood something that not a lot of people can withstand,” the doctor said.
Before he walked away, he placed his hand on my shoulder, just showing me a little bit of compassion, and then he left. Since Jerrod and I were his parents and they were only allowing two people at a time to see Jaden, it was only right that we went first. As if we were complete strangers, he walked on one side, and I walked on the other. Nothing was said. I didn’t care that he wasn’t talking to me because the only thing that mattered was making it to the back, so I could see our son.
Although we were given good news and were informed that Jaden was going to be okay, I was still very emotional when I walked into the room and saw him lying in the hospital bed. My baby wasn’t supposed to be lying there with all types of machines hooked up to his little body. The front part of his hospital gown was open, so I could see his chest, which was all bandaged up from the surgery that he’d just had. I walked on one side of the bed while Jerrod stayed on the other. I ran my hands through his hair and bent down then kissed him on his little lips, just happy to see that he was breathing.
