A Sneak Peek from All the Love He Can Bear

Prologue: The Pact (A Sneak Peek of All the Love He Can Bear)

BEAR PRESSLEY  

You know you fucked up, right? That was all I heard on a loop as I sat in the cold, dank room, awaiting the inevitable. My palms sweated, and my legs bounced as I stared into her emotionless mahogany eyes. I felt like I was in that scene from Menace II Society when Kane got arrested after O Dog and he tried to steal that car from the parking garage. I was known for not being easily shaken, but she had my ass shook. She stared at me blankly, shifting in her seat. The squeaks from the old, rusty chair drove me crazy and thickened the tension. I could barely look into her eyes. I tried to read her face when she came into the room, but I couldn’t. She had been the main one on my ass about being in the streets. She warned me that this day would come if I continued to be D’Angelo’s sword and shield. However, I didn’t listen because I didn’t care. Getting locked up wasn’t something I had planned to do, but I was willing to take my punishment if it came to it. That was what I had signed up for. I was a killer. I had so many bodies that I had lost count. I’d bathe in other people’s blood long enough to lose the curiosity I once had about life. I was numb, not giving a fuck about the future, and I wanted to forget the past. I was tired. I was tired of being the sword and shield.

For once, I just wanted to take a break from protecting everybody. Maybe this was the place for me to do that. I know that shit sounds stupid as fuck, but I’d been wanting out for a little while. I had thought about the shit I had given up protecting D’Angelo. I dropped out of school at fifteen, with only a few months left before graduation. I could’ve been in college by now, studying biology like I had always wanted to. I could have been interning in someone’s lab or some shit, but I was sitting in this dump, waiting to hear what she would say. She was making me nervous as hell, sitting across from me, staring at me as if she couldn’t find her words. I knew this situation wasn’t ideal, but I wasn’t used to her being so fucking quiet. I usually couldn’t get her to shut up. Now, all I wanted was for her to say something.

“Bear… I… I’m sorry,” she finally spoke, making me scrunch up my face. Her apology made so little sense that it was disorienting. I mean, I wanted her to talk, but I wasn’t expecting that.

“Wuh?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. My frown deepened. “We made a pact. We promised we’d protect each other... I shouldna left. I shoulda stayed and deaded that nigga myself. That pussy ass nigga. You sittin’ een a cell fuh a pussy ass nigga. How could you do that shit to me, Bear,” she asked, a scowl etched into her soft face. I stared into her eyes to let what she said register.

“Mitch, wuh wrong witchu, boe,” I chuckled. She laughed. Michelle wasn’t the type to apologize, so I knew something was up the minute that shit left her mouth. Once our laughter died, she buried her face in her palms, urging me to sigh.

“I’m sorry, Michelle,” I apologized, since I was the one who fucked up. She would never say it, but I knew she was disappointed in me. I would be away from her for a long time, and I knew that hurt the most.

Michelle lifted her head, wiped her eyes, and said, “I know yo’ ass not gon’ tell me wuh happen, so I won’t ax’,” she said as she shook her head. She was right. I wouldn’t say anything. I knew there was a price to pay for the life I lived, so I was prepared to pay it. “I ain’t leh’n you throw yo’ life away. I’on care wuh you think you deserve. Don’t get comfortable, nigga. I’m gettin’ you the fuck out here,” she warned me. I nodded. After that, she gave me the rundown of how things would play out. I hated that I was causing my family problems. I half wanted them to let me suffer the consequences, but I knew Michelle would do everything in her power to get me out of this situation. I didn’t want to be saved, but at the same time, I wanted to be.

***

I had been sitting in this holding cell for a few hours, thinking about my life.  I was only seventeen, and I had done shit that most people my age couldn’t live with. Yet I was numb. I can’t even remember the last time I felt anything. All the tests, lessons, and bullshit my daddy taught me worked. I had become the tool and monster he wanted me to be. However, getting caught was some shit I knew he wouldn’t forgive. He had never gotten caught when he was in the streets. He taught me everything I needed to know to avoid this stupid shit. I couldn’t believe I allowed D’Angelo to pull this on me. I shook my head at myself because I knew better. I never strayed from my plan, but I let that nigga spring this on me and followed through. I should’ve held on to that pig a little longer, before I pulled the trigger, to find out what D had been planning, but I was so used to following orders that I was robotic.

 I didn’t even feel human anymore. I governed myself by a code that was shoved into my face just about every day, but it didn’t keep me from getting set up by my best friend. I wondered if the loyalty D and my daddy kept reminding me about was what made him throw me under the bus. Was this part of my job description, and everyone knew about it except me? I’d seen plenty of movies about the life we lived, and most of the gangstas expected their right-hand men or someone else in their organization to take the rap for them to keep them out of prison. Was that what D’Angelo believed he was doing? I wasn’t sure, but this was some bullshit. Mitch promised that she’d get me the shortest sentence possible, but I didn’t know how she’d do that. That nigga’s body was in my trunk when I was pulled over. The only thing they didn’t have was the gun I used, since I threw it in the lake while on my way to dump the body. I trusted that Mitch could handle things, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.

Suddenly, I heard the cell door unlock. I slowly lifted my head as someone entered the holding cell. My eyes widened as I watched her. She was dressed in a correctional officer uniform. I stifled my laughter because it didn’t fit her at all, and the frown on her face told me she wasn’t happy about wearing it. She stood in front of me and shook her head.

 “Dammit, Cubby! Look how you got me lookin’. You know I hate dem boy,” she complained. I chuckled.

“It look kinda good on you,” I teased. She scrunched up her face and punched my shoulder.

“Shut up, nigga. It don’t look good on me, nothin’,” she retorted. I shook my head.

“Robbie, wuh you doin’ here. I thought you been at school,” I said. She sighed and sat beside me.

“Shit, I thought you been wanna see me since you being a dumbass. Why you doin’ this shit, Bear? We coulda been cross state lines by now if you woulda leh me help you run,” she chastised. I exhaled and sank into the wall.

“I couldn’t put you een my shit, Robbie.”

“Yes, you coulda. I’on mind being in yo’ shit, Bear. We cousins. We ‘posed to stick together. Plus, all them damn pacts we done made. You not ‘posed to just give up, Cubby. We got shit to do as a family. Wuh I’ma do without my soul mate,” she asked. Her eyes were glossy. I grabbed her hand and interlocked our fingers.

“I’m sorry. I ain’t mean to hurt you and Mitch. I just… I’on wanna mek shit harder fuh y’all. I did this shit, so-” I paused as Robin lowered her head and scrambled her locs. I placed my hand underneath her chin and turned her attention to me. Seeing the tears trickling down her face made my heart drop. Robin rarely cried, so it was hard seeing her share her emotions. I knew this had to hurt her. “Robbie, please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I ain’t mean to hurt you.”

“Why you doin’ this? You punishing yo’self or something? This not even you, Cubby. You don’t get caught. It’s almost like… you wanted to. I keep ax’n myself wuh would mek you do some shit like this, and I can’t think of nothin’, except… you want this to happen. You can’t leave us. We made a pact,” she repeated, making me feel like shit, and making me remember that day when the three of us made our first pact.

I peeped out of my room into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear. Before I could leave the room, Robin bumped me out of the way and tiptoed down the hall, towards trouble. I looked back at Mitch, who was shaking her head. I sighed before following Robin. When we got to the door, we hesitated. Suddenly, I was having second thoughts, so I turned to walk away. I didn’t want to feel my mama’s wrath when she caught us. Robin grabbed my hand. “Don’t you wanna know wuh een’ney,” Robin asked, curiosity beaming from her eyes. I shook my head, but she opened the door anyway. I knew this was a bad idea, but Robin was always pulling us into something. We were only ten, and Michelle was thirteen, but we had no choice but to follow her lead.

When we surveyed the room, the shelves were lined with herbs, crystals, potions, gris-gris bags, handmade dolls, smudge sticks, and other things. We continued exploring until we stumbled across my mama’s root work journal. It had spells and rituals inside. Robin skimmed the pages until her big, deep-brown doe eyes lit up. She had found a ritual to strengthen our bond through a blood pact. Watching my mama practice taught me that blood pacts were serious, but all Robin had to say was, “I wanna love y’all forever. That way, we’d never be alone, ‘cause we got each other,” and I was down. It was no secret that the three of us were weird― outcasts in society for being different. We weren’t only born different. We were raised differently. However, we accepted each other wholeheartedly. What better way to convey that than performing a blood pact? After we mixed the ingredients and recited the spell, the three of us pricked our thumbs, allowing the blood to drip. My pupils dilated as I stared at the blood.

“We gotta put our thumbs together ‘fo’ we read the last part,” Robin instructed. Mitch and I followed her lead as usual. We chanted the spell five times. After that, we swallowed a drop of each other’s blood and have been tight ever since. Some people may have believed that the three of us were obsessed with each other, but we didn’t care. We were all we had, and in a world where people like us felt misunderstood or like outcasts, we were all we needed.

“Through our blood, we form a bond, our hearts intertwined. No matter where we are in life, our soul ties will bind. We will never be alone again. Our love will transcend. Through loyalty, honor, trust, and love, this bond will never end. In life or death, we shall remain kin,” the two of us said in unison as we held our thumbs together. We were reenacting what we had done almost seventeen years ago, and I felt all the emotions from back then. We wiped each other’s tears.

“I’on know if I can do this without you, Cubby,” she sighed, her voice cracking. I stared into her heavy eyes and could see that she was troubled by more than just me being locked up. I hadn’t paid attention at first, but her big doe eyes were puffy and low, like she’d been crying before seeing me.

“Wuh you mean by that? You good,” I questioned. She briefly closed her eyes before breathing deeply. Then, she shook her head.

“Nothin’,” she replied. I frowned as her gaze surrendered to mine.

“Don’t lie to me, Robin,” I warned her. She stared at the floor. “When’s the last time you slept,” I inquired. She shrugged. Robin always had issues sleeping since she was a newborn, but it seemed to worsen as she got older. That’s why she was always creeping at night. She either couldn’t sleep or was sleepwalking when she fell asleep. Her sleepwalking used to scare us because she used to move like she was wide awake, sometimes wandering off or doing shit she shouldn’t have been able to do in her sleep. Our mamas told us they used to lie Mitch, Robin, and me together when we were little because it was the only time Robin would sleep well. I was really her cuddle bear. That’s why she called me Cubby.

“Look, I gotta go ‘fo’ dem boy find me. I’ll be ‘round. I’ll drop by when I can,” Robin casually stated as if she were visiting me at home. I shook my head. “Don’t get comfortable either, Bear. If I gotta break yo’ ass outchea, I will,” she warned me. I knew her ass would, too. There was nothing Robin couldn’t steal.

“I won’t. You sho you good, though,” I asked again. She stood and looked back at me.

“Nah, but I will be. You know nothin’ touchin’ me. Just a lil’ setback. Nothin’ I can’t fix,” she assured me. I bowed my head to her.

“Please be careful, Robbie,” I told her. She flashed me a weak smile.

“Always. See you on the other side,” she said. I nodded.

“See you on the other side,” I repeated. Robin stood in front of me and hugged me. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer with each exhale. I had fucked up. I let D’Angelo and my daddy make me lose sight of what mattered. I had a cousin who hadn’t finished grad school but would represent me in court. I had another who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, yet still made time to see me before I was escorted to prison. I could feel Robin needed me, even though she wouldn’t say it. I fucked around and gave up on my life, not realizing who I was hurting. I loved Michelle and Robin to death. They had my back before we knew what that shit meant, and I put myself in a position to isolate myself from them. I was supposed to protect them. I was supposed to be by Robin’s side when she claimed our birthright. But I let D’Angelo’s punk ass set me up. I was annoyed that I had forgotten the first pact we made. I wasn’t supposed to leave the two people who had been my soul mates in this lifetime and all the others we’d shared. No matter what, I would protect my girls, even if I had to make a deal with the devil.

KENYATTA OLIVER 

 ONE hour before 

 I jumped from my sleep as I heard a loud banging on my front door. Looking frantically around my room, I confirmed that no one was here with me. I breathed deeply to calm down, I got up, put on my pajama pants, and went to the front door. I looked out the peephole and furrowed my brows when I saw him pacing on our porch. I was confused about why he didn’t use his key. I slowly unlocked and opened the door. He brushed past me and began pacing in our living room. I sat on the couch and watched him for a while, noticing that his skin was paler than normal. I had never seen him in such a panic, so I wasn’t sure how to respond. I was only sixteen, and he was my first boyfriend. I met him a month after I moved to Charleston from Louisiana. He was one of the first people I became close with when I first moved here. He was twenty-one, and I wouldn’t be seventeen until spring, and it was early winter. I honestly never thought a guy his age would take someone like me seriously. Technically, I was still a child. However, he never treated me like one, which was why I had fallen for him.

“D’Angelo, are you okay,” I finally asked him, getting tired of waiting for him to say something. He paced for a few seconds before standing still and looking toward me. I had never seen fear in his hazel eyes, so I was startled.

“Sorry fuh scaring you, Kenyatta. I just… I een trouble,” he told me. I sat erect and glued my eyes to him.

“What’s wrong,” I immediately asked. D’Angelo came over to the couch and sat beside me before pulling me into his arms. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his heart thumping rapidly. I didn’t know what was going on or how to help, but I knew he needed me to show up for him the same way he had done for me since we met.

“You give the best hugs,” he breathed deeply, his heart calming down. I kept my arms around him and held him until I heard whimpering coming from him. I was shocked that he was crying, and I didn’t know how to handle it. “Kenyatta, I… I een trouble. Shit is fucked up, and I’on know how to fix it,” he cried. I pulled him closer to me until he had calmed down. He pulled away from me and dried his eyes.

“How can I help?” I asked. He peered into my eyes, a glint of shame in his. My heart raced as I realized I had forgotten to put my contacts in before I opened the door. He caught me off guard. No one was supposed to know who I really was, or I’d have to leave this place, even though I had begun to like it. I let out a breath of relief when he didn’t say anything. Maybe he was too consumed with what he was going through to notice. I hoped that was the case.

“I’on wanna drag you een my shit. This grown people problems,” he replied. I frowned. “I’m sorry. I shouldna said that. I ain’t mean it. I’m just not myself right now,” he immediately apologized after my body tensed up.

“D’Angelo, if there’s anything I can do, let me do it.”

“I’on wanna drag you een it, but… I ain’t got no other way out,” he told me. Then, he breathed deeply while staring into my eyes. “I need you to report a robbery een the neighborhood. Tell’um you heard a break-in at yo’ neighbor’s house and saw a black two-thousand-five Toyota Camry speed off after hearing gunshots,” he explained. I nodded and went into the bedroom to retrieve my cell phone. D’Angelo followed me and sat on our bed as he watched me carry out his directions. When I was done, I walked over to him and sat on his lap.

“Will everything be okay now,” I questioned. He kissed my temple.

“Yeah, you might of just saved a nigga’s life. Thank you, Kenyatta! You been down fuh me since we met. I’m lucky to have you,” he told me, making me blush. I loved getting compliments from him since he wasn’t the type to give them out easily.

“I’m the lucky one. Nobody has ever done any of the things you’ve done for me,” I told him. His charming smile beamed before kissing my lips. He brushed his knuckle across his button nose, his hooded brows furrowing menacingly. His sharp canines sank into his thin lips as he set his intense gaze on me. I smirked, knowing what was next.

“You know wuh else nobody ain’t done fuh you,” he said as he stood with me in his arms. I giggled as he gently tossed me on the bed.

“D’Angelo, we can’t. I’m too young. I don’t want to get you in trouble,” I reminded him. He pulled me to the edge of the bed.

“We good, shawty. I ain’t gon’ cross the line. I just wanna mek you feel good. You trust me, right?”

“Yeah… I… trust… you,” I panted as I held onto my comforter and breathed deeply as he used his tongue on me. D’Angelo had been adamant about us not having sex until I was eighteen, but we did fool around sometimes. I didn’t complain because I knew I wasn’t ready. I was supposed to come here, go to college, and lay low until things blew over back home. I didn’t need a distraction. However, D’Angelo distracted me at times, making me forget that I wasn’t supposed to get close to anybody. I could blow my cover if I did, and that was a mistake I couldn’t afford to make. I promised that I’d be careful, and as much as I wanted to let D’Angelo into my world, I couldn’t. It was too dangerous for him to know me. He was in the streets, but even he couldn’t handle the secrets I kept.

***

The Next Day 

My Savior: Meet me @ the spot at 12. I exhaled deeply as I read the text message repeatedly on my burner phone. My stomach bubbled as I tried to rack my brain to figure out what I had done to warrant a meeting with her. Ever since she helped me disappear from my home, she’d been elusive as fuck. She only pulled up on me when I was moving sloppily or if they were close to finding me. I didn’t want it to be either, but I’d rather it be the former and not the latter. Charleston had become home in the six months I had been living here. The culture was like Louisiana’s, and the people had been welcoming, treating me like family. I hadn’t gotten close to anyone except for D’Angelo, and I had to keep him at arm's length. I hated it, but this was the life I chose.

I could have stayed home and followed Father’s orders like I had done all my life, but I wanted out. I was tired of being treated like a lab rat and a tool. I was sixteen, and I had never experienced love until I moved here. I knew D’Angelo was too old for me, but he loved me. I had become so comfortable with him that I had come close to telling him the truth on many occasions. However, I didn’t want to put his life in danger. He didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of knowing my truth. I wanted to be treated like an adult, so I had to make adult decisions.

Once I pulled into a parking spot at the shooting range I had frequented since I was introduced to it, I got out of my car and locked the doors. Then, I stared at the bold letters plastered on the sign. Six Shots was a franchise owned by my target instructor. I was prepared to hear a lecture from him since I hadn’t been here in almost two months. I breathed deeply and shook my head for causing this. They gave me a few rules that weren’t hard to follow. All I had to do was keep my identity hidden, keep up with my training, and focus on school. Yet I had only followed two of them. The only thing I hated more than going to school to be a doctor was training. I had done it for as long as I could remember, and I wanted a break. I understood why it was important, though. I wasn’t a normal girl. I wasn’t raised in normal circumstances, and people were looking for me, so I needed to know how to protect myself. I knew all of that, but I wanted to have a normal life.

“Look who finally show e face after all this time,” my instructor announced as I walked into the shooting range. I rolled my eyes. “Least you can do is look excited to see us after dodging us this long,” he continued.

“Le’em lone, Six. E look stressed out,” his brother told him. I exhaled deeply.

“I don’t get no hey dog or nothing? Just right to chastising me,” I questioned. The two of them laughed.

“Hell nah. Don’t act like you ain’t know who you dealing wit’, Kenyatta. We always gon’ gi’ you a hard time,” Uncle Six responded.

“Wouldn’t be us if we didn’t,” Uncle Buck chimed in. I shook my head.

“Leave the girl ‘lone. Hey, Kenyatta,” Uncle Buck’s wife spoke as she came into the front of the building. I smiled.

“Hey, Mrs. Ayesha,” I replied before she pulled me into a hug. After she let me go, she nodded toward the back. “She een’ney waiting fuh you,” she told me. I bowed my head before walking to the back of the building.

“Good afternoon, Superstar,” I spoke with a smile. She flashed her pearly whites at me, enchanting me as usual, before we hugged. I had never seen anyone with such a beautiful smile. It always made her deep, sable skin look more radiant.

“Sup, Ken! How you doin',” she responded. I sighed. “Stressed, hunh? Well, I promise I ain’t tryna add to it—just droppin in. Mek’n sho you good,” she assured me, but I knew better. This girl had been an activist for her community at seventeen, so she was always busy. Yet, she had time to drop in on me out of the blue. I hadn’t known her for very long, but I knew her long enough to pick up on some of her habits, and she didn’t do things randomly.

“To what do I owe the pleasure,” I asked. She smirked, running her fingers through her waist-length locs that she had in two-strand twists.

“Uncle Six told me you ain’t been coming to yo’ lessons. Look, I know you hate the shit, but you can’t afford to slack up on yo’ training. You know how dem boy get down, and I can’t always be here to protect you.”

I held my head down and sighed before saying, “I know. I promise I’ll get back on it. I just needed a break. I’m tired. I’m so tired,” I cried unexpectedly. She slowly walked over to me and hugged me. I wasn’t expecting it because she wasn’t really the hugging type. She’d return a hug, but that was about it.

“I know. We ain’t choose this life fuh ourselves, but we gotta live it. Our people depending on us, Kenyatta. Plus, I can’t do this shit by myself. I need you to protect yourself, at the very least. Can you do that fuh me?”

“Of course. I’m sorry for always causing you trouble. You’ve done so much for me, and I know you’re putting your life at risk to help me. I appreciate you so much. I don’t ever want you to think I don’t.”

“You ain’t gotta remind me, Kenyatta. I know you do. Plus, ain’t nobody touchin’ me fuh real. I’m always ten steps ahead,” she crowed. I giggled and shook my head.

“Of course, Ms. Robinhood,” I joked. She chuckled.

“Aight, now. You know I hate that shit,” she reminded me. We laughed for a few seconds. Then, her face became serious. “I’m here fuh you always… but I need you to watch yo’ back. Everybody who smile at you don’t always mean you good. I know you can handle yo’self, but you need to be mo’ careful. Even though we changed yo’ name, we can’t risk you showing up in the system,” she warned me, letting me know that she had known that I had called the authorities last night. I had to give them my name and file a police report this morning after calling in the break-in for D’Angelo. I knew he was lying to me about what happened, but I wanted to help him. Seeing him cry made me feel bad.

I nodded before saying, “It won’t happen again. I promise.” She nodded. Then she updated me on my case. Things were still going well. I wasn’t in danger for now, but I knew the organization would eventually find me. However, I had a group of people around me who wouldn’t stop at anything to protect me. I was thankful for them. I would have been alone if it weren’t for them. When Robin found me and promised to help me escape, I was hesitant because I didn’t believe anyone could go against the organization, but she proved me wrong. I trusted her with my safety and my life. She and her family had taken me in and didn’t expect anything in return except my cooperation. The least I could do was not cause them any trouble. As she said, we didn’t choose this life, but we had to live it. I wanted to take control of my destiny and live the way I wanted to, but I had to leave the old me behind and truly become Kenyatta Oliver.

To Be Continued...

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