Darius Jones by Mary B. Morrison

man’s.
    I gloated as Darius’s chocolate face turned two shades lighter. He was speechless when he saw me standing in the doorway. The fear in his eyes told me he wasn’t that big bad shit talker who’d talked down to me in the past.
    â€œWhat’s up, Ash? Forgive me. Poor choice of words. I mean, how you doin’, Ashlee?” K-9 said, ushering me inside the room.
    Yeah, the three of us went back far enough for K-9 to remember my being trapped in the fire. Part of my face was burned but thanks to modern medical techniques my face was restored. The arsonist target was Darius but I was the one who suffered. I was in the building working late that night while Darius was fucking around.
    Darius got out of his seat, stood in front of me. I put my left foot forward, hand on my right hip, tossed my head back, stared up at him. Had on my Nikes for traction, hair slicked back in a ponytail, no makeup, no jewelry. I came ready to kick Fancy’s ass and outrun Darius. Assessing Fancy’s condition, I was overprepared.
    â€œI’ma pay for this one, D, but dude left me no choice,” K-9 said, holding up a professional camera.
    â€œGood to see you two haven’t grown up,” I commented. “That’s not a good thing.” I peeped around Darius’s side. He moved, trying to block my view of Fancy. “Somebody needs to comb her hair. I already saw her. I’m trying to get a closer look to see if she’s faking it.” I pushed Darius. The strength of his body made me shove myself to the side.
    â€œLike K-9 said, what’s up, Ashlee?”
    I stared at Fancy while answering Darius. “Your mom didn’t tell you? She asked me to come help her watch DJ. Besides, it’s my weekend to have him anyway. But I had to see for myself what condition she”—I nodded at Fancy—“was in. Pretty bad. Who was driving? You?”
    Darius concealed his smile. No matter how serious the situation, I could always make him laugh before he got mad again. He shook his head. Shook off my comment. I wasn’t giving him any relief. All the days of my life he’d fucked up, he deserved this shit.
    He stood in front me. “Seriously, Ashlee. Don’t you have any compassion for my wife? Can’t you see I’m scared?”
    â€œWhere the fuck were you all the times I was scared?” I asked him.
    â€œI can’t change that, Ashlee. It’s in the past. Right now, I don’t know what I’d do without my wife.” He walked me to the corner of the room, then whispered, “Ashlee, look. I’m sorry for all the fucked up shit I did to you. I wanna make it up to you, I swear. We were both young. After our son was born I didn’t know how to love Fancy and emotionally be there for you at the same time. But this accident right here changed me for life. I’ma do whatever it takes to make you a part of our lives but you can’t see DJ for more than two days.”
    What the fuck made him think I wanted to be a part of their lives? That sounded good (more so to him) but it came a lotta too late for me, and DJ was my damn son too.
    Lunging toward him with my shoulders, I said, “Fuck you, Darius! You should’ve called me right away! That’s your wife but DJ is my son, Darius. Mine. Not hers. You should’ve called and told me my baby was in a car accident. Your mother could’ve called me when it happened. Nobody called Ashlee until a day later! And even then your mother didn’t tell me. Why did I have to hear it from my three-year-old?”
    I saw Fancy’s left leg move. Yeah, twitch, bitch, you know I’m keeping it one hundred. I got closer to Darius so he wouldn’t look over his shoulder at her ass.
    â€œAshlee, please. Keep your voice down.”
    â€œPlease my ass! Fuck you!” Put one finger on me and your ass is going to jail. Now both of her legs were moving. I wished K-9 wasn’t