by Xyla Turner
My head nodded as I contemplated what he actually said. He shot DaShawn because he felt disrespected. In essence, he didn’t shoot him because he did anything criminal, but he didn’t get treated like royalty.
I should have taken my ass home right then and there, but instead, I waited one second too late because Sever gave his final blow.
He tapped me with his elbow and said, “You know how it goes, Ritter. Right? They pay us trash men the big bucks to put out the fucking trash. We do and it’s a problem because we didn’t set the fucking bin up properly on the curb.” He started laughing. “That’s one less trash can we gotta worry about.”
That was it.
The steam started to escape, my vision blurred and when I realized what I was doing, both of my hands were wrapped around Sever’s throat as I tried to choke the fucking life out of him. Somebody managed to get me off of him, but I body slammed whoever tried to detain me and got Sever to the ground and punched him with all of my might at least six times.
The Sergeant suspended me, but I didn’t even wait to see for how long because I walked out of her office and five guys I considered friends surrounded me and dragged me to the hospital.
“Vic,” Kat called again.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” My eyes focused on her as I ate some more food.
“Maybe if you talk about it with someone, it will help you to focus. Do you have someone at work?” She asked with her eyebrows drawn together.
Kat, the anti-cop lover, was actually concerned. I must have really looked like shit.
“No.” I shook my head. “Not talking to anyone there.”
Her eyebrow rose.
“Well, Ritter.” She pointed her fork to me. “You need to talk to someone. Seriously. Grief is another silent killer like stress.”
“What do you know about grief?” I asked.
“Plenty,” she said and looked down at her food. “It’ll cause you to hate the very things you once stood for and question everything you ever believed. If it’s not contained, it can turn into a cancer that will cause you to do the unthinkable. Grief will cause you to lose your fucking mind.” Kat raised her head to look at me. “I’m telling you what I know.”
Damn.
I nodded my head and said, “Who did you talk to?”
Her eyes met mine again and then she said, “At first, nobody. After many incidents, including trying to set my school on fire, I was forced to see a therapist, who I bullshitted for about a year. Then, I found myself at the age of seventeen contemplating suicide and I knew that wasn’t what my father would ever want for his kids; for his only girl. So, I went to therapy and took it seriously and I still go occasionally.”
Now that was an unexpected twist. The fearless, put together, I’m black and I’m proud, woman still saw a therapist.
“You know of any good therapist?” I asked. “Well, if I did do it, I’d like them to be familiar with civil servants.”
“Yeah, I actually do. I’ll give you some numbers.” That seemed to relax her a bit.
“So, your father died?” I asked.
“Yes. He was killed and I don’t want to talk about it with you.” She cut me off quick.
Well, this led me to the conclusion that maybe a cop had something to do with her father’s death. That had nothing to do with me, which sort of irritated me but I was in a foul mood anyway.
“Okay,” I said, before I could tell myself to shut up. “You don’t like cops, so that means you don’t like me and yet you opened your home to me. What does that mean?”
Kat’s fork clinked on her plate when she dropped it and those big brown eyes landed on mine. “It means I saw someone that needed help. I helped said person and if said person is feeling better, he can leave.”
Yup, the bear had been awakened and had no fucks left to give to even care to stop.
“You’re kicking me out?” I asked as I stood up.
“Yeah, you seem to be doing alright now.” She mirrored my posture and stood too.
Kat had to be around five foot six inches to my six foot three frame. Without wanting to, I towered over her without being close, but the woman was fearless. That didn’t stop me from getting in her space, bending down and whispering in her ear, “Thank you.”
“Um, hmm,” she hummed in that way that sassy women do.
I backed up, walked into the living room, put on my boots, and went to her front door. Kat was right behind me but instead of having her slap the shit out of me, I said, “See you soon.”
“I doubt it,” she answered.
A chuckled escaped and then I said, “Oh, I will.”
As I walked down the steps, I heard the click of the lock echo in the hall.
Bored out of my mind was an understatement. There was absolutely nothing to do but space out all day and keep pulling my mind back from the video. I closed my mind to the words Sever said that plagued my mind. Erase the images of the grief in Ms. Watson’s eyes. Try not to rip the television from the wall as it portrayed DaShawn as some menace to society. They pulled up his police record as if that justified his killing, and people were such sheep that they believed just because of someone’s past, they deserved to die because some egotistical authority figure was having a bad day or felt it was his job to clean up the fucking trash.
Yeah, I was not okay.
Around midnight, I finally turned on my phone and saw that I had thirty different messages and only God knows how many calls. Ryan had left ten messages alone.
Fuck.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I grabbed my personal gun and moved to look out the peephole.
Shit.
Opening the door, I asked, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Checking on you,” Ryan walked in, looking like the same shit I looked like. “How you holding up?”
“I’m not.” I closed the door, put my gun away and plopped back on the couch. “D’asia let you out.”
He chuckled and said, “Yeah, she doesn’t know what to do. She’s giving me back and head massages. To release the tension.”
I shook my head.
“She told me you were at Kat’s, so I just came from over there. She didn’t seem too happy to see me asking about you.” He sat down next to me after he paced around a bit.
“Naw, she kicked me out. The most complicated woman I’ve ever met. She hates cops, but brings me to her house so I wouldn’t stay at the hospital. Made me dinner and when I called her on it, she kicked me out.” I threw up my hands. “What the fuck?”
“Ha,” Ryan said. “You gotta understand something and believe me, I did the same sort of shit early with D’asia. These women are fighting the internal issues they and the community have with the cops. Kat, even more so. Her dad was killed by a cop and not a goddamn thing was done about it. Not justice, anyway. She and her brother are pretty militant about black lives matter. They march, organize rallies and all types of things of that nature. I tried to get her to join UNITE but she told me and I quote, ‘we take care of our own’.”
“How’d you know that?”
“I was looking her up out of curiosity and I saw she was linked to an old case. A lot of things weren’t in the files, but my mom filled me in. She said that was the old way of policing.”
“Damn,” I whistled.
“Right. So, I’m not sure if you’re still interested in Kat romantically or not, but she could very well be interested but would never act on it. You know? It’s against the code.”
“This is twenty-sixteen. What code?” I asked.
“Man, DaShawn was just shot in cold blood by a cop. That type of twenty-sixteen.” Ryan sobered and brought us both back to the reality.
Racial tension was still very much alive and among us. People didn’t hide in hoods or have secret meetings. They stood on platforms, created hate speech and some as far as making the same poses and symbolism of Hitler. The shit wasn’t about to get real, it was in full effect.
“Y
eah,” I mumbled as my mind wandered off.
“Heard you beat the shit out of Sever for it.” Ryan looked at me.
“Fucking right, I did.” My blood started to boil a little as I remembered what he said. “He called him trash. DaShawn. That bitch ass, blue wearing, worthless piece of shit had the nerve to say he took out the trash and didn’t know why he shot him. Ryan, I lost it. Fucking lost my shit. I tried to kill that man.” I faced Ryan and said, “I’d do it again.”
“Brother, you’re preaching to the choir on that one.” Ryan shook his head like he would have killed him too. “My entire family is blue, Vic. It runs through my veins, man. I’ve been loyal. We’ve been loyal but the more time that goes by, I start to fully understand why there is a movement called Black Lives Matter.”
We looked at each other for a moment and neither of us said anything. It was the moment of reckoning, right versus wrong, lies versus truth, living versus dying.
“We risk our lives every day. We’re on the streets to protect and serve. We run towards incidents, while others run away. Our lives matter, but that was never a question if ours mattered. There are signs on the back of every goddamn cop car saying that our lives matter and there is a large monetary reward for any information on a cop killer. D’asia helped me before, but DaShawn…” Ryan paused like he was about to get emotional. “He had turned his life around and was killed in cold blood for what? His life didn’t matter. It couldn’t have. Somewhere Sever felt like that shit was okay. Even to say what he said to you. Somewhere in his mind, it was okay that it happened and it was okay to say. And to some of us, their lives don’t matter and that’s my dilemma. Right?”
He clapped his hands together and said, “I’m going to marry D’asia and we’re going to have pretty multiracial kids who will grow up and be profiled, even killed because of what?” Ryan shook his head and then he leaned back against the sofa.
Fuck, it was nothing to say. It hit home for him just like it hit home for me and that was because of UNITE. If we didn’t know him, hadn’t been invested in him, it probably wouldn’t have mattered so much. We might have shaken it off like another officer is making it bad for the rest of us, but I wouldn’t have beat the shit out of him. I just wouldn’t have associated with the asshole. But things were different. Now, the killings of these lives impacted us and that wouldn’t be tolerated. Ten times out of ten, if Sever would have known DaShawn was affiliated with the police task team, he wouldn’t have been stopped, and he damn sure wouldn’t have been shot.
“I hear you brother,” I put my head back and closed my eyes. “I fucking hear you.”
He stayed for a couple more hours to shoot the shit, but he wanted to get back to D’asia before she woke up and saw he was still gone. I, on the other hand, was all keyed up so I went back to the one place I could sleep.
“What are you doing here?” She asked me with the chain still on the door.
“Honestly, I can’t sleep and this seems to be the only place that I can sleep.”
“Vic, it’s three in the fucking morning. You’re a smart man. Figure that shit out.” Kat went to close the door.
“Wait,” I pleaded. “Wait, please. You’re right. I need someone to talk to, but not about that. I need someone to talk to about anything besides that. Please, Kat.”
“Vic, I’m sorry about what happened with DaShawn but this is the shit we’ve had to deal with for years. Now that it’s affecting you, you’re all torn up. Kudos to you, but we stay torn up. This is a part of our lives all of the time. So…sorry if I’m not as sympathetic about your heartbreak. It’s appreciated but if it’s not him, it’ll be another.” She was shaking her head. “So, I’m sorry for your grief, but mourn for more than just the kid you knew.”
“I have mourned. I have done many things that you’ll never know about. I’ve initiated change within my department and I’ve donated my time to change the status quo of police officers in the neighborhood. I’m not some rookie cop who lost an informant. I lost a friend. DaShawn was an innocent friend who was not what he is being portrayed to be. I’ve also lost brothers that were trying to simply do their job just like I’ve lost loved ones who cared more about themselves than the people they should have. This issue is bigger than me but don’t you be fooled lady, I have done and do my fucking part. Right now, though, I’d like a friend to lend me her couch so I can sleep without the images of my other friend being shot in cold blood. That’s all I’m asking.”
I could only see her one eye through the slit in the door and I was sure I insulted her, so she’d probably tell me to fuck off anyway. Therefore, I pulled my hand from out of the door and started to descend the steps when I heard her close the door, take off the chain and open it again. My feet stopped halfway down the steps, and then I turned. She was standing in the doorway wearing a tank top and short boxers.
“Come on before I change my mind,” she snapped.
I took the stairs two at a time, pulled her into me and kissed her forehead. “Thanks.”
She pushed me away and said, “Okay, now. Rule number one. Keep your hands to yourself.”
“Right.” I walked in backward and looked her up and down. “Might be hard with you dressed like that. But don’t change because of me, I’ll sleep like a goddamn angel with this image.”
“You trying to get put the fuck out again?” She kept the door open.
“No, no.” I shook my head.
“Rule number two, do not masturbate in my living room.” She raised an eyebrow.
“Damn,” I nodded. “Okay. Any other rules.”
“Yeah, do not wake me up unless Jesus is coming back and I like coffee, light and sweet.” She closed the door and put the double lock on it.
“Got it.” I nodded.
“Good night, Vic.” She called as she made her way to her room.
“Night, babe,” I murmured.
Yeah, I wanted Katherine Long. For me and me only.
I wanted her, badly.
Just like before, I was able to sleep through the night. My body was once again getting used to the idea of actually going to sleep, because I woke up around seven. This was my usual time to be at work before eight-thirty.
Kat hadn't given me permission to do anything else but sleep, however, she cooked me a meal so it was only right that I cooked her one. I also put my PBA mini card on her keychain. She had looked out for me so in some small way, I wanted to make sure I could do something for her as well. That card would at least let the officer who pulled her over that she knew a cop and at least be lenient with her. Since she hated cops, there was no way I was telling her it was attached to her keys, along with the rest of the store discount cards.
The woman must have been an extremely healthy eater because I couldn't find any snack foods in the entire kitchen. I did find eggs, milk, pancake mix and turkey bacon, so that's what I cooked. I made her some coffee and my usual raw eggs.
As soon as the hypnotizing aroma of the coffee kicked in, Kat wandered into the kitchen looking like a zombie whose only cure was coffee. She had a brown satin scarf on her head and the same clothes from last night.
“Morning, walker,” I laughed.
She must have caught the reference because she stuck up her middle finger and grabbed an ugly blue mug from the table.
“Well, I see you’re giddy this morning,” I commented as I leaned my body against the counter and so did she once she had that first sip.
After she had taken three more swallows, Kat lifted her head and looked at me and asked, “Why are you cooking in my kitchen?”
“I was hungry and I wanted to thank you for letting me stay last night and also for the dinner.”
She grunted and took another sip of coffee.
“What's that?” She asked and pointed to my concoction.
“My protein.” I smiled.
“Ugh,” Kat made a face and took another sip.
Scarf on and all, she was definitely cute.
“Let's ea
t,” I grabbed two plates and walked out of the kitchen.
At first, she remained in the kitchen, and then she followed me to sit at the table.
“This, surprisingly, looks very good.” She remarked.
“Well, I've been cooking since I was eleven; I should have mastered breakfast,” I explained.
“Yeah, that's for sure.” She looked at me. “How old are you, anyway?”
I laughed at the candid question.
“Thirty-two and you?”
“I’m thirty-two as well,” Kat said as she transferred two pancakes to her plate.
I piled some food onto mine and proceeded to eat.
“Oh, I forgot the juice.” I realized and jumped up to get them.
“I could have got it,” Kat said with her mouth full.
“Like those, huh?”
She kept chewing, and then the side of her lip turned up in a smirk.
“They're good,” she admitted.
“Good.” I nodded, as we continued to eat in silence.
Kat added another piece of bacon, polished her coffee off and went to get another cup. It appeared she was a coffee nut, so I put that in my memory bank for the future. When she finished eating, I gathered our plates and cups, took them to the kitchen and began to wash them.
“You don’t have to do that.” She stood in the doorway.
“It’s the least I can do. You let a practical stranger in your home to sleep on your couch. I can at least cook breakfast and wash the damn dishes.”
“You’re not a stranger. Ryan and D’asia vouched for you,” she smiled.
“Yeah, but you still won’t go out with me.” I delivered that blow and finished doing the dishes.
I didn’t need to see her face to know that the smile was gone because the temperature in the room had suddenly changed.
When I finished, I cleaned off the counters, wiped my hands. As I was on my way out of the kitchen, I stopped in front of Kat. Her eyes rose to look at me and just like I knew she would, she didn’t back down. Therefore, I took advantage and bent to kiss her forehead.
