Page 6 of You Deserve Good Things

Left Behind

I had never been the type to sit still.

Even as a kid, I was always moving, whether it was climbing fences, riding bikes too fast, or tryna flip off porch railings like I was invincible.

I was always on go. My mama used to say I had a motor in my bones and a storm in my mouth.

She said if I didn’t learn to slow down, life was gon’ catch me slipping.

But on this day? I couldn’t move at all.

I just stood there, my jaw clenched and hands buried deep in my hoodie pockets like they were holdin’ the weight of the world, and my eyes locked on that car.

The car that was takin’ Shaniya away.

It was taking her away from this block. Away from Jacory. Away from me. And most of all, away from Silas.

The engine was low and quiet, but the wheels that were rolling over that cracked pavement sounded loud as hell in my ears. They were louder than the shots that dropped Silas. Louder than the screams that followed. Louder than the sound of my own heartbeat that hadn’t been steady since that night.

Silas had called me, and I missed it. I went outside to take the trash out for my mama, and I missed his damn call. Had he not gone by himself, I could’ve looked out for him. When my mama told me he called, I left and headed that way. By the time I walked on the scene, I was too late.

I didn’t blink. I didn’t breathe. It felt like my chest was about to cave in.

Beside me, Jacory stood stiff, arms crossed so tight across his chest he looked like he was holdin’ himself together with force. It was as if he let go, he would fall apart right there on the sidewalk.

He hadn’t said a word in damn near fifteen minutes. My bro just stood there, brows low, jaw grinding, watching the back of that car like he could will it to stop.

But it didn’t.

It turned the corner slow and disappeared, taking what little peace we had left right along with it.

And just like that . . . she was gone.

She was gone with her silence. Gone with the hole her brother left behind. Gone with every piece of our childhood we were still clinging to.

Jacory didn’t move for a second, then suddenly, bam!

He turned and punched the streetlight pole so hard it echoed. The metal rattled, as his skin split, and blood smeared across his knuckles almost instantly, but he didn’t flinch.

“Damn!” His voice cracked.

That was the first time I ever heard Jacory James sound broken. Not mad. Not frustrated. Just . . . broken. And that shit made my stomach twist.

I let out a breath, low and shaky. “Man . . .”

I didn’t know what else to say.

Because what the hell do you say to somebody who just lost the one person they would have given everything for?

What do you say when you carry the same guilt he does . . . but you were the one right there when it happened and didn’t do a damn thing to stop it?

My mind kept goin’ back to that night. All I could see was Silas bleeding out in the street. The vision of Shaniya, covered in his blood, screaming without sound. Me, stuck. Frozen. It replayed over and over in my mind like Groundhog’s Day.

I saw the car roll up. I saw the window come down. I saw the glint of the muzzle flash before I even processed what was happening.

And I didn’t do shit.

I didn’t jump in front of him.

Didn’t pull him back.

Didn’t block the shots.

I just stood there.

I fucking froze when it mattered.

It happened so fast.

I regret missing his phone call.

I didn’t have his back.

So now I carry that. Every. Single. Day.

Jacory turned to me suddenly, eyes red, but sharp like broken glass.

“I shoulda went after her,” he muttered, voice low and tight.

I ran a hand down my face, feelin’ the sweat and regret coat my skin. “Man, what the hell you was gon’ do? Snatch her out of the car? You know damn well Shari and Sam wasn’t gon’ let you do that.”

He didn’t respond. He just stared down at the sidewalk like he was tryna erase it with his eyes.

“You know she needs this, bruh,” I said softly. “She ain’t been the same.”

Silence.

I hesitated, then added, “Since Silas.”

That was when his head snapped up, and his eyes were blazing.

“Since what , Chase? Huh? Say it.”

My throat locked up.

“Nah,” he said again, stepping toward me. “Say it. Say what you thinkin’. Since we let him die ?”

I clenched my jaw, heart poundin’. “Man, c’mon?—”

“Say it!”

My fists balled. “You think I ain’t thought about that every fuckin’ night since it happened? You think I don’t hear them fuckin’ shots in my head every time I close my eyes?”

His mouth opened, but I cut him off.

“You ain’t the only one hurt, bruh. I was there. I saw him hit the ground. I saw her face. And I ain’t do shit. So yeah, I’m carrying that! Just like you.”

Silence hit us like a punch.

His chest rose and fell fast, his knuckles still bloody, his jaw grinding.

Finally, he looked away, rubbing his hands down his face. “Man . . . I just needed more time, bruh.”

His voice cracked. Real low. Real raw.

“I just needed her to stay . . . just a little longer.”

And I felt that.

I felt every piece of that, ’cause I did too.

We were her village. Me and Jacory. We were her protectors when Silas couldn’t be there. We were supposed to be her safety net. And now? She was gone. How would we know if she was good? How could we look out for her now?

We stood there for what felt like forever, just watching the block. Same block that raised us. Same block that buried Silas. Same block that never felt like home again after that night.

Then finally, Jacory turned to me, voice low. “You staying at my spot tonight?”

It wasn’t a question. Not really.

It was a statement. A plea without begging. He didn’t wanna be alone. And truth be told, neither did I.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I’m staying, bruh.”

He pounded his fist against mine, then turned, walking toward the house.

I followed, quiet. Heavy. Hurting. And we ain’t say another word, ’cause we didn’t need to. We were all we had left.