Juice

by Nako

  “Tia, Tia, Tia…This is a multi-million-dollar lawsuit, honey.”

  Freedom wasn’t one of those money hungry bitches and she knew that the check wouldn’t wipe away what she’d been through, but it damn sure was going to make sure those pigs paid for what they did to her.

  “I thought about it…”

  Freedom heard the hesitation, “But?”

  “I’m scared they’re not going to believe me.”

  The powerful woman before her, gave her a smile so beautiful. “What do you think I’m here for?”

  Tia held back her tears.

  “I refuse to go home until I’m personally escorting you to their office to get a public apology. And if they don’t want to budge, then we take it to the press. They can settle this silently or we’ll get as loud as the hood bitches they already think we are.”

  She used the time on her flight to prepare an argument that they wouldn’t want to hear from her mouth. It was best if they apologized and cut her a check. Freedom also had a therapist she wanted Tia to see, immediately.

  “Do you have any pictures? Rape kit?”

  Tia nodded her head as she pointed to a box in the corner of the room, on top of it was a blanket as if she was hiding her pain from any guest that entered her home.

  “What in the hell?” Freedom mumbled under her breath, she was disgusted.

  Tia had two missing teeth, cracked ribs, a black eye and a busted lip. But none of that could top the mental abuse. The nightmares. The bed accidents. The anxiety. The antsy feeling.

  “My career is over,” she shared with Freedom.

  “These guys are pretty fucking important, I won’t deny that.”

  Tia was aware of who she was about to roll in the dirt with.

  “It’s not funny, but right before it happened I was in the office trying my hardest to pick a pro-bono case and I couldn’t find one. It was like a hundred cases that I had gone through. I mean how hard could it be to find a freakin’ free case, right?”

  It was a rhetorical question, so Freedom continued to listen.

  “I asked myself in that moment what made me pick this career. Why did I sit through all those years of schooling? Up to my knees in student loan debt. I sold…my grandfather’s land to finish paying my tuition.”

  Tia didn’t stop the tears from falling this time. She’d done a good job of holding them back the entire conversation. She nodded her head.

  “Sold it and didn’t think twice.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Being selfish. Did it to spite my mother, honestly.”

  Tia hated her mama. She would spit in her face if she saw her right now.

  “Are you prepared to fight?” Freedom needed to know that before she got busy.

  Tia was going to be honest with her.

  “I don’t have the energy.”

  Tia leaned forward and locked eyes with Dr. Anderson, “I want an apology. I never got one from my…”

  She took another deep breath, “He’s going to have to apologize to me. Period.”

  Freedom respected that. “I’m going to go check into my hotel and make a few phone calls. I came straight here,” she shared with her.

  “I appreciate you, so much.”

  Tia hated attention. Her whole life she’d been told she was the prettiest girl in Hammond and it made her cringe. She didn’t need to be interviewed for the world to see or none of that shit. It wasn’t who she was, at all.

  “An apology would suffice. I’m going to figure my next chapter out in the meantime.”

  Tia felt like she’d risen from the dead after four long months of being in the tomb.

  Her body had healed on its own and she still looked like herself, thank God.

  The glimmer in her eyes had went away, but she would get it back. She had faith.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Freedom agreed.

  They said their goodbyes, for now. Tia went to shower, feeling refreshed for the first time in a long time. Everything was going to work out.

  She skipped over all the, “Heard about what happened to you, and the “Tia, I’m here if you need me,” messages that had compiled over the past one hundred and twenty something days and composed a text of her own.

  Can I come see you?

  Tia hadn’t heard from him…and it was okay. She wasn’t aware of what happened with his fiancée but would soon find out that the man she loved…wasn’t the same.

  η

  Bound was defined as something that limits or restraints beyond the bounds of decency.

  She was bound and there was nothing Juice could do about it. Money couldn’t fix this problem nor could their God. All that praying, fasting and sacrificing that Faaizah did… She was the sweetest, most devoted Muslim that Juice knew. Her faith made his faith stronger. The way she believed…it’s what motivated him to get right with the Prophet.

  Where was He now?

  Juice had asked that question several times over the past four months. No one couldn’t give him an answer. His parents had been by his side and without them, he really didn’t think he would’ve made it. Juice appreciated the fact that they were able to put their personal differences aside to keep him uplifted.

  He was back smoking, drinking…doing shit to sedate him from what he was dealing with. Well, what he didn’t want to deal with. Every morning when his eyes peered open, he prayed that it was all a bad dream. It wasn’t.

  His reality was that the fragrance of his home was in a wheelchair. Her mother was dead, and their world had been turned upside down. Faaizah didn’t question her God. Faaizah told him that everything happened for a reason. He didn’t understand how she could still smile. Still love. Still be content.

  Everything had changed. Nothing was the same.

  He didn’t see her shed not one tear at her mother’s homegoing service whereas, Juice walked out several times.

  He was one emotional ass nigga.

  Future’s “Hate the Real Me,” played loudly in the back of the Maybach that he was in. Work was work. Mahogany couldn’t sit still because his fiancée was in a wheelchair and her mother had died, tragically. She told him to take all the time he needed to heal, but he’d rather hit the road. He was back fucking, recklessly. Giving dick to any hoe that wanted to eat it. Juice didn’t care.

  He probably would never touch Faaizah again.

  Guilt had riddled his body. He literally was in a bar with his best buddies trying to convince them that leaving her wasn’t wrong while in the other town over she was holding on to an inch of her life as she screamed at her mom who seemed to be losing hers.

  Juice saw the message come in instantly.

  He was in Berlin or were they in Sicily? Juice wasn’t hype anymore about traveling. He’d been around the world twice and was on his third book of stamps. He didn’t keep up anymore. Genesis stepped up to the plate and he was thankful. Juice was numb as fuck.

  He ignored Tia’s message and texted his mom to check on Faai.

  She’s fine…Juice, we came here for you. If you don’t plan on coming back anytime soon, your dad and I are going to fly home at the end of the week. You should consider hiring nurse care or I can do it for you.”

  She’d been trying her hardest to push this stupid ass nurse on him. He didn’t want anyone touching his fiancée other than people he could trust.

  Juice didn’t bother responding to her message. His father may dip, but he knew his mom wouldn’t leave Faaizah without speaking with him directly.

  Her family wasn’t doing well, so Juice deemed it unfair to ask them to help with Faaizah right now. He knew that he also needed to get back to see about her too. Every time he saw her wheeling around, he cried.

  She gave him his space and mainly stayed in their bedroom, all day. Praying.

  Juice took a deep breath and relit the blunt.

  High was the only way he could be these days.

  Tia hadn’t crossed his mind since the day of t
he accident, so her text was random. He texted her back, only to ask, You’re not pregnant, are you?”

  He was extremely careless inside her pussy and it could be a possibility.

  Are you fucking serious? Boy fuck you!

  Welp, that answered his question. Juice couldn’t deal with her right now.

  A tap came to the window and he winded it down to see who was bothering him.

  “Mahogany said come here,” one of her assistants told him.

  He hated being summoned, she could’ve easily shot him a text.

  Juice put the blunt out, got out of the car and walked into her trailer.

  “Why would you let Genesis handle the track list when that’s what you get paid to do?” she snapped.

  Juice didn’t appreciate her tone. “Whoa…”

  She was motherfucking tripping.

  “Clear the room,” he told her stylist, makeup artist and everyone else that was hanging out.

  “For what? I gotta be back on stage in four minutes and my shit all messed up. What you been outside doing?” she was furious. He saw her leg tapping and that bold vein near her forehead, thumping.

  “Clearing my got damn mind. I’ll go get the list straight.” He wasn’t going back and forth with her.

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. You can really go home.”

  The one thing he’d always despised about her was her got damn mouth. She could stab you with her words.

  “I just said, I’ll handle it. Stop tripping.”

  He wasn’t listening to nothing she was saying.

  Juice spoke with the sound team quickly and then went to look for Genesis’ stupid ass.

  He walked right into him, coming out of what looked like the utility closet.

  “Hell is you doing?”

  Genesis had a dumbfounded look on his face. “Uh…what up?”

  Juice didn’t even have time to ask him again.

  “How do you mess up a track list that we’ve done a hundred times?”

  Genesis waved him off, “Man, your sloppy ass handwriting, I couldn’t understand that shit.”

  This was a big deal. He couldn’t keep acting so nonchalant about business.

  “Dawg, I emailed it to you and sent you a screenshot. What are you talking about?”

  He scratched his beard. “Damn, so that paper you handed me the other day wasn’t the tack list?”

  “Are you fucking serious right now?” Juice was infuriated.

  “That was her essential for the playlist that Tidal asked her, please tell me you sent that in?”

  Genesis knew he had fucked up.

  “Dawg, I’m tripping. My bad.”

  Juice didn’t want to hear it, “Yo, don’t fix your mouth to ask why you still just the road manager no more.” He shook his head before walking off. Niggas wanted to upgrade but couldn’t put in the work to do so. Hard work always looked like luck to the outsiders, but it really required effort. Genesis didn’t take his job serious, yet expected to be promoted. Shit was crazy.

  Juice stepped outside of the arena and texted his mom, “I’m coming home.”

  He decided to let hot-head Mahogany cool off for a lil’ minute. Besides, he had things to take care of on his end.

  Juice caught a red-eye to New York and an Uber to his crib. After almost ten hours of flying, all he wanted was a shower and a blunt. He tip-toed to the bathroom to handle his business. His emotions swept over him like a broom once the hot water hit his head. He placed his hands on the granite wall and tried to contain his thoughts but couldn’t. All the money, power and fame couldn’t give Faaizah her mother back or the ability to walk.

  “Can you feel that?” the doctor asked Faaizah.

  He’d exerted all his resources to have the very best to come in and see his lady. They were on their ninth doctor and Juice refused to give up.

  She shook her head and then her eyes darted to Juice. “Honey, you’re wasting money at this point.”

  She tried to grab his hand, but he pulled away and asked the doctor, “Even though she can’t feel it, do you think if we do some physical therapy, she’d be able to walk again?”

  Same questions. Different doctors.

  Juice hadn’t slept since the accident. He spent his days seeing about Faai, the afternoons helping her sister-in law with her mom’s burial, and during the night he did research on possibly helping Faaizah walk again.

  “Do you want the truth?”

  Faaizah chimed in, “He knows the truth. Thank you sir for flying all the way up here to see me,” she told him, kindly.

  The doctor smiled at her. “Juice, let me see you outside for a second.”

  He followed him out and turned to him. “I’ll pay whatever. What about some fake legs or something?” he asked.

  “You have a relatively healthy woman in there and a beautiful woman, might I add...she’s not dead, Juice.”

  He didn’t want to hear that shit. “Will she be able to walk again or not?”

  “No.”

  Juice plopped down on the shower bench and wiped his eyes, hot water cascading over his body. He wished that he still had faith. Hoped for another experience like the one that brought him to the Prophet in the first place. Juice firmly believed at one time in the five pillars of faith. He needed it all to be restored for him to know without a doubt that he could get through this season of his life. Desperately, he wanted to look at the love of his life and feel…something other than pity when he looked at her.

  Juice remained in the shower until his skin felt like prunes. He turned the water off and stepped out, onto the towel mat. He washed his face, brushed his teeth and wrapped the towel around his waist.

  Mahogany had Facetimed him twice followed up with a text message that read, “Really?”

  Juice left damn near forty hours ago… The fact that she was just now realizing it, was on her.

  She had to watch how she spoke to him, whether mad or irritated. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t be chumped off.

  Juice needed a few days to chill out and reset his mind. If he wasn’t operating at the best version of himself then he was a lost cause.

  He walked out of the bathroom, closing the double doors behind him and was stopped mid-stride on his journey to the den. “Baby, you’re home,” her voice croaked.

  She didn’t know where they stood, but she hadn’t taken her ring off.

  Faaizah loved him dearly and prayed that they could work through whatever he was feeling about her accident. All she felt was…disconnect.

  Her insecurities plagued her mind. Was she enough for him?

  This would be a true testament of the weight of their relationship.

  His loyalty would be tested.

  “Yeah, came back to spend some time with you. My moms and Pops gon’ fly out Friday.”

  “You’re hungry?” She sat up in the bed.

  Faaizah wanted to tell him that she was kind of happy and relieved that they would have their house back to themselves. Her schedule would still be the same, she didn’t want things to change.

  “Nah baby, I’m good. What about you?”

  Truth be told, he didn’t want to see her struggling to get in her wheelchair nor was he mentally prepared or strong enough to help her out the bed and into the kitchen to cook.

  He was told that it would be best if some of the counters were lowered and a new bathroom would help her too. She was an independent woman, so he knew that he needed to get all this done as soon as possible.

  Faaizah told him that she wasn’t scared to drive although she’d been the one who was behind the wheel during their accident. His mom found a support group that helped people who were now wheelchair bound readjust. According to his momma, she was optimistic, and he needed to be the same way.

  “No, I’m fine. Trying to keep my figure,” she giggled.

  Her hair was tied up in one of those scarves that he used to hate, but with the light from the hallway shining in the room, she looked angelic.


  He began to tear up and she saw the faint look in his eyes. She sighed loudly and patted his side of the bed, where he hadn’t slept in months.

  “Baby, come lay with me.”

  He shook his head. “I got some work to catch up on.”

  She looked defeated. “Oh okay, well maybe later. I’m sure I’ll be here when you finish,” she tried to tell a joke. He didn’t find it funny though.

  “Get some sleep, Faai.”

  Juice exited the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Barely.

  He barely was able to make it to the den before he collapsed on his knees, wailing loudly enough for her to hear. She wanted badly to hop up and go to his rescue, but something told her to stay put. Her wheelchair was near the nightstand, with an extended reach of her arms she would’ve been able to reach it and wheel her way to him.

  However, something told her that Juice was dealing with internal issues beyond her accident. Beyond her new physical state.

  She sent a prayer above for him. For his peace of mind, his shattered heart and broken soul. Whether he ever cared to admit it or not, his happiness was always on a scale. Up and down. High and Low. Faaizah knew that she’d affected it tremendously, but she wasn’t the latter. She wasn’t the problem.

  Tears streamed down her face as she heard footsteps pad across the floor outside of their bedroom. His father asked, “What’s wrong, son?”

  She wished that she could hear what he said back but couldn’t. Tip-toeing around the corner, lurking in the shadows...something, she did when they first started dating and the trust hadn’t been established as of yet. She couldn’t do that anymore. Or a lot of things for that matter.

  She was bound to the bed, oh, the things that people took for granted. This was a lesson learned for her, an eye-opener that in the blink of an eye…life could be snatched away. May her mother rest in peace.

  Faaizah laid down after praying. When she woke up, an arm was wrapped around her waist. Giving her a great sense of comfort that she’d hadn’t felt in months. Faaizah turned around in a hurry to touch his face, strumming her fingertips against his thick brows and luscious lips. This man was created for her. Despite their unforeseen circumstances, she still was counting down the days to becoming Mrs. Shahid. Nothing had changed, her love remained. Even his morning breath turned her on. She smiled against his mouth and then kissed him, briefly. Juice needed peace and she needed him. Hopefully, they’ll both be able to receive their desires, soon enough.