Page 14 of You Deserve Good Things
Confronting the Past
I spent years avoiding it. Drowning it out with liquor, with late nights, with women I didn’t even bother learning the names of.
I told myself what happened to Silas wasn’t my fault.
Told myself that if I said it enough times, I might actually believe it.
But the truth? The truth had been haunting me since the night we put him in the ground.
And I had been running from it ever since.
We were supposed to go meet up with Keem’s scarface-ass together.
I missed his phone call, got there late, and witnessed everything from the shadows.
I cringe every time I think about how I actually froze in fear, in shock. Everything happened so damn fast.
New Orleans had been the same since he died.
Same streets. Same people. Same ghosts. I still couldn’t walk past the spot where it happened without hearing the gunshots in my head.
Without hearing Shaniya’s screams. Without remembering how Jacory had to hold me back from spinning the block and killing every nigga in sight.
I was ready to die that night. Ready to go out behind my brother. But Jacory stopped me. He told me it wasn’t worth it. Told me we had to be smarter. And ever since then? I was stuck in this limbo between wanting revenge and knowing that revenge wouldn’t bring him back.
I met Daniale when I came out to Houston to visit Jacory. First time I saw her? She was talking shit to some dude outside the bar, reading him for filth, while I noticed my sister Shaniya trying to drag her away.
I remember thinking damn, she is dangerous. And I liked that. We started seeing each other after that. But it wasn’t what people thought. I wasn’t tryna cuff her. And she damn sure wasn’t tryna be cuffed. At least, that was what we told ourselves. But somehow, we kept ending up together.
Talkin’ shit. Drinking. Doing other things we both pretended didn’t mean nothing.
Until one night, she hit me with some shit I wasn’t ready for.
“You still blaming yourself for Silas, huh?”
I froze mid-pour, the Henny in my glass damn near spilling over.
I looked up, my jaw tight. “The fuck you talking about?”
She leaned back on the couch, crossing her arms. “You heard me.”
I clenched my teeth. “I ain’t got nothing to say about that.”
She scoffed. “That’s ’cause you are too busy lying to yourself to actually face it.”
I exhaled, rubbing a hand down my face.
I didn’t wanna do this. Not tonight. Not with her.
“Look, Dani.” I sighed. “I ain’t tryna have this conversation, ma.”
“Then what conversation you tryna have, Chase?” she shot back, brows raising. “’Cause I ain’t gon’ sit here and act like you don’t carry that man’s death like it was your bullets that killed him.”
My stomach turned. I looked away. She leaned forward, her voice softer now.
“Have you ever actually talked about it?” she asked. “Or do you just let it sit in your chest and eat you alive?”
I let out a short laugh, but it was empty. “Talk about it? To who?”
She shrugged. “To me.”
I shook my head. “Why the hell would I do that?”
“’Cause you have been running from this shit for four years, Chase. Maybe it’s time you stop.”
I clenched my fists. I felt the anger boiling up, but I didn’t let it spill over. Not at her. She didn’t deserve that.
I ran a hand over my beard, trying to keep my shit together.
“You don’t get it,” I muttered. “Silas was my boy. My brother. He was supposed to be straight. We were supposed to have his back.”
Daniale nodded. “But you ain’t pull the trigger, Chase.”
“Shit, I ain’t stop it either.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “And how exactly were you supposed to do that?”
I swallowed hard. “I shoulda been with him that night. I shoulda?—”
“Shoulda, coulda, woulda.” She cut me off. “But that ain’t reality, is it?”
I glared at her. “The fuck you want me to say, Dani? That I ain’t fail him?
That I don’t still wake up hearing his name?
That I ain’t still see the blood on the pavement every time I close my damn eyes?
We were meeting up with Keem to pay him back the money we’d gotten for Shaniya’s medical bills.
It was supposed to be a drop off and go type deal and I couldn’t even be on fucking time.
Then when I saw the car roll up I fucking froze… ”
She stared at me, her expression unreadable. Then she moved closer, sliding onto the coffee table in front of me, taking my hands in hers.
“You think he’d want you living like this?” she asked softly.
My throat locked up.
I shook my head. “I dunno.”
“Yes, you do.”
I let out a breath, long and slow.
“You were his boy, Chase,” she murmured. “You think he’d want you stuck in the same pain that took him from you?”
I exhaled, shaky as hell. And I didn’t have an answer.
Daniale didn’t push me. She didn’t force me to keep talking.
She just sat there, holding my hands, keeping me grounded.
And for the first time in four years, I felt . . . lighter. Like maybe I could breathe again. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t meant to carry this alone.
I looked up at her, really looked at her. And for the first time, I let myself admit it.
That I felt something real for this woman.
Something dangerous. Something that could either fix me . . . or break me worse than I already was.
I smirked, tryna lighten the mood. “You really got me out here feeling emotions and shit.”
She grinned. “I got that effect on people.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You a handful, you know that?”
She raised a brow. “You saying you can’t handle me?”
I leaned in, my voice dropping to a low murmur.
“Baby, I could handle you in ways you ain’t even ready for.”
Her eyes flashed. And I knew, this thing between us? It wasn’t going away. Not now. Not ever.
I exhaled, sitting back.
“I can’t change what happened,” I admitted. “But I can try to do better moving forward.”
Daniale smiled. “That’s all you ever needed to do.”
I nodded slowly, letting her words settle in my chest.
Then I smirked, pulling her closer.
“But just so you know, baby,” I murmured, “you keep pressing me like this, you might fuck around and end up falling for me.”
She snorted. “Who said I haven’t already?”
And just like that, I knew I was in big fucking trouble.