Chapter Twenty-Four:

Sauce It Up

The rising sun peeked through the window, turning the dull room warm. Pam awoke and stretched, checking for any more pain. She was relieved when she felt that the soreness was completely gone, with the wounds just being tiny pockmarks now, barely visible.

She stepped out of Jasper's quarters and went to the bathroom, albeit sluggishly, not her usual, rather brisk stride. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, cleaned her horns free of the dried blood and brushed her gradually forming waves. Pam checked her eyes and noticed they were a tad bloodshot. Withdrawal, she thought as she made her way to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and reached for the cranberry juice. She poured herself a glass and sat around the table, sighing quietly to herself. Jasper was awake, in the living room. His ears twitched when heard her get up and so, he went to greet her.

"Pam," Jasper said, "I'm sorry."

She stared at the cranberry juice. It looked like blood. She had snapped for a brief moment back there—slicing that man's stomach open. The horrified look on his face, his instinctive reaction of trying to push his entrails back in…the blood, the screaming, the smell of death, the deafening sounds of gunshots. She couldn't bring herself to drink the juice.

"That…shit was fuckin' horrible," she said, feeling tears welling up, "I-I…" she gasped, turning her face to hide her countenance.

"Yeah…shit's…pretty fucked," Jasper said softly. He sat across from her.

"You saved me, took me in," Pam said, "You don't owe me nothin' else."

"Ay man…I owe you a healthy normal life, yeah? You with me now and I ain't…gonna let you get hurt like that again. I ain't gonna let any of y'all get hurt like that."

"For life to be normal…niggas livin' the life gotta be normal," Pam said, shakily. "I think…I should go to rehab at some point."

Jasper nodded, "Iight, I gotchu."

"And…therapy maybe…"

"Yeah…therapy's pretty good," he leaned over, kissing her on top of her head. Pam smiled with her eyes. She slowly sipped the cranberry juice.

"I…thank you," Pam said.

Jasper smiled at her and then took out his phone, "I…gotta make a call. I'ma be back."

"Iight," she said. He got up, walking out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom, closing the door. He inhaled deeply and then breathed out before lighting a cigarette. He began calling Glory. It rang for a while before she picked up.

"…Jasper?"

He took a drag, "Yo, Glory."

"…The…fuck do you want?" She barked, sitting up in her bed, "Calling me this early—if you need money, you can fuck right hell off—"

"Ay lemme talk," Jasper said, blowing out a bit of smoke, "Yo…ay, I know nothing I say is ever gonna…change the fuck shit I did to you. I shouldn't have been so triflin'…I shouldn't had cheated and lied and all that shit."

Glory listened, surprised. She let him talk.

"I'm sorry for breakin yo heart, I'm sorry for fuckin' yo friend, and her sister, and I'm sorry for being…a horrible ass nigga in general. I'm sorry for givin' you false promises and dumb shit. And I'm sorry for abandoning you and Nadio…and accusin' you that he ain't mine. I'm sorry for skippin' out on them payments…"

"I…see," Glory said, getting up from her bed, "What, are you dying or something?"

"Nah I ain't dying. I'm doin' iight for myself. But…ya know…life short and shit…and I'm sorry, Glory. If…it ain't too late…I'd like to talk to Nadio."

"He lives with his roommate on Melemele Island," Glory said, "You have his number, go talk to him."

"Yeah…I will," Jasper said, "You think…he'd…see me?"

"Ion know nigga," Glory grumbled, "He only ever seen yo ass twice in his entire life. Who knows if he wanna see you again."

"Yeah…makes sense."

Glory sighed tiredly, "Jasper…fuck you. But …thank you for apologizing."

"I'll take that, Glory. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me too," she said, hanging up. Jasper looked at his phone and bit his lip as he scrolled through his less called contacts.

Nadio

I'll…call him later, he thought, his hands shaking as he took a deep, trembling breath. He pocketed his phone and took a drag. One step at a time, he mused. Fuck…I'm a horrible father. Yeah. I'm pretty fuckin' shit. I already fucked it up with Nadio, Revelry, Jamboree, and Celebrity. I gotta make it right with these girls I got now. Should I even call the nigga? He prolly did alright without my ass. He went on Poke/Gram, looking up Nadio. He scrolled through his pictures. He looked happy with his girlfriend—a gorgeous, dark sister with a winning smile. Nadio was okay and would be okay. Glory did a good job raisin' you boy. Better than I ever could.

"Ughhh….too early…too…much sun…" Diddy complained in her sleep. Jasper took a drag and chuckled.

"You good, fam?"

"Yeah…" Diddy grunted, sitting up, rubbing her shoulder, "My head kinda hurt, but I'm good."

Diddy looked over at Mardi, who was sleeping with her mouth open, a bit of drool dripping down. Festival was asleep at the foot of the bed, on her stomach, her face buried in the sheets.

"So…" Diddy began, "Them niggas who was shootin'…you gon' shoot back?"

"Yep," Jasper said, taking a drag, "You niggas will have to lay low. Don't be postin' no more shit on the Gram."

"Bet."

Jasper smiled at her and she got out the bed, hugging him. He hugged her back, enjoying her touch.

"I…saw you cryin' over Chance," Jasper began quietly, "Did…y'all…do…anything when you first started workin—"

"No," Diddy said, "But Chance was always nice to me."

He's nice to everyone, Jasper mused. He petted her on the head. She smiled sweetly, giving him her typical baby doll eyes.

"Hmm, iight," he said as he took a drag, starting to walk out the room.

"If I was older, would you date me?" Diddy asked.

Jasper stopped dead in his tracks, feeling goosebumps prickle on his skin. The fu—oh shit.

"Nigga—what?"

"You heard me. If I was older, would you date me?"

"That's a weird ass question," Jasper said.

"When you first met me, you was into me," Diddy said.

"…Yeah…cuz…I thought yo ass was a dancer," Jasper explained, "And that was like…for five minutes."

"But would you? If I was eighteen? Twenty?"

"No," Jasper said flatly, "And not cuz you ain't pretty or nice. I just…" he sighed, "If I was twenty-five years younger and you was ten years older and I met you under completely different circumstances, yeah. But currently, as of now, in this reality, nah, fam. Ion see you that way…"

"Hmmm. Is it weird that I like you?"

"Like as in…"

"Like like," Diddy said, looking hangdog.

"Ah…no, it's not," Jasper said, "It would be weird if I tried anythin' with you. Which I won't. You trust me, yeah?"

"Yes, I trust you."

"Then trust I ain't gon do nothin' to you," Jasper reassured her, "And trust that that—" he pointed to her shoulder, "Won't happen to you, again. I'ma never let you get hurt or used or none of that fuck shit."

"You promise?" Diddy asked.

"Yes," Jasper said with certainty, "Startin' now, after I kill these niggas tryin' to bump me off."

Diddy giggled and walked up to him, tippy-toeing as he bent down a little. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then went to the kitchen to get breakfast. Jasper checked his phone and saw a text from Chance.

Chance: ay u up?

Jasper texted back.

Jasper: yeah

I'm 'bout to head to the Kabana

Chance: iight…

I'ma be there

Tbh

Ion know if I should be fuckin' around with this

But…

I got yo back

Jasper: yea I kno

And if I ain't ever tell u this

Thanks bro-bro

I appreciate all u done

Chance: iight gay boy

Jasper: stfu

Jasper sucked his teeth but then laughed, pocketing his phone and walked into the living the room. He grabbed the car keys and took one last drag, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. Time to deal with these brand new ass niggas…

Chanel flipped open several attaché cases in the basement floor of the Kabana. Inside each one were weapons: a sniper rifle with a suppression accessory, semi-automatic rifles, fully automated firearms, 9mm semi-automatic pistols, submachine guns, assault rifles, pump action shotguns and melee weapons such as military knives, brass knuckles, and reinforced baseball bats. She opened up another attaché, revealing smuggled in items: comm. links, weakness policy, a focus sash, assault vests, expert belts, zoom lens, choice specs, choice scarfs and choice bands. Jasper took a drag as he inspected everything. Haze whistled at the collection, picking up a brand new pistol and looking over the sights and checking the chamber.

"Goddamn," Parker said with a laugh, "Shiiiiiiiiit Chanel, this is…"

"A whole lotta gang shit," Lil Pac said, picking up a 9mm and giving it a once over. Jasper took off his shades and grabbed the choice specs—which were yellow rimmed with a pink lens. He could feel the power go through him as he wore them. Choice items were contraband, weaknesses policies and focus sashes were fully illegal to possess. The only legal thing this whole collection of weaponry had been the baseball bat. Jasper cracked his neck from side to side, kneeling down to inspect the sniper rifle. He closed the attaché case and handed it to Barry.

"You gon' use that," he said to the Blastoise man. Barry nodded, his countenance carefully neutral. As Jasper went to take a drag, his phone buzzed. He checked it, seeing that it was Chance.

Chance: ayo

I'm at the Kabana

With Indy 'n Glen

And this third mfker they brought along

Jasper: come in

Bring them to the basement

He pocketed his phone and sighed. While everyone was busy marveling over Chanel's stash of weapons, he began contemplating how this would end. Will I see their faces again? He thought, looking at Leon's former crew. I ain't gon let these niggas die. And if we come outta this shit alive, I'ma buy them all a drink.

"Iight, time to peel some motherfuckin' caps," Sticks said, loading up a glock and placing it behind him, in his pants. While everyone selected their preferred firearms, Chance walked down the spiraling stairs into the basement, with Indy, Glen and a third mon in tow. Jasper looked at them, narrowing his eyes. Indy was dressed in all black, wearing his signature black gloves. Glen, on the other hand, was dressed in a polo, jeans and sneakers. He was fair skinned with pale red eyes. His sleek blue hair was cut into a fade, with the undercut being dyed yellow.

He was tall, in good shape and Jasper noticed his hands were webbed. Don't they got long tongues? He remembered, but Glen must have gotten it surgically reduced. The third mon looked androgynous, although they seemed to present masculine in the way they dressed: an open silk shirt, black slacks and shoes and a blazer. Their deep purple hair was styled in a side part, their crimson eyes hidden behind red tinted shades. Their skin was so pale, it looked like they could easily burn in moonlight. They were average height, slim bodied with webbed hands. But their most distinct attribute was the giant red gem slapped dab in the center of their chest, typical of those of the Starmie line.

"Who this nigga?" Jasper asked, gesturing to the Starmie.

"Their name is Suva," Indy said, walking over to the crew.

"Yo," Suva said.

"…Iight… Why you bring him?"

"Them," Indy corrected, "And yeah, they comin' cuz Vinchenzi bein' a proud moron."

"He ain't wanna grovel for your help," Glen explained, "But we promise, if you'll have us, that loan is no more."

Jasper stared at them and nodded tiredly, "Fine, fine…I heard y'all the first time." He looked over at Chance who was looking wide eyed at the weaponry, touching his stomach as if remembering what Natasha did to him.

"Ay man, if you wanna sit this one out—"

"Nah, nah," Chance said, "I'm ready when you ready."

"Good," Sticks said, patting Chance's shoulder, "Cuz we need all the hands we got. This is bitch serious, fam."

"…Yeah…serious," the Charizard man whispered, anxious. Jasper took a suitcase and walked over to the spiraling stairs. He made his way back to the lounging area, taking a drag. His crew followed him, attaché cases in tow. He sat in the booth, setting it down as he ordered a drink from the waitress: a straight shot of vodka. Chanel walked over to him.

"Scared?"

"Of that Kalos bitch? Nah," Jasper said, "You know where she stayin' yet?"

"We workin' on that. When we get a location, I'ma tell you."

He smiled at Chanel and she gave him a brief smile back, sitting next to him. She fixed the choice specs on his face, making them straight.

"They don't be workin' if they not on right," she told him.

"Yeah, thanks."

"No problem—ay you," Chanel called out to the waitress, "Get me a daiquiri."

"Right away," the waitress said with a smile, scampering in her thin heels to put in her drink order. Jasper leaned back in his seat, taking a long drag. He coughed and let out a low exhale. Chanel, on the other hand, put her feet up on the glass table, scrolling through her phone.

"I been meanin' to ask," Jasper began, leaning forward, "What's with you and Rapier?"

Chanel clicked her nail against the touchscreen and laughed a little, "W-whatchu mean?"

"You like him or nah?"

"Ion like that nigga—we just friends," Chanel asserted.

"I think that nigga likes you if I'm bein' honest," Jasper replied.

"No he don't, he like other mons…and I like other humans."

"Hmm…things do be complicated," Jasper said, looking pensive, "Been with a lot of human girls. Uh…at first it ain't easy, but I got better at it."

"Whatchu mean?"

He closed his eyes, recalling his trysts with human women. They were…okay, for the most part. But when he was younger, there were "accidents."

"Mons not only gotta be careful with each other, but with humans too," Jasper said, stretching, "Shit can go wrong."

"Anythin' can go wrong," Chanel said. The waitress returned with their drinks, giving Jasper a shot of vodka and Chanel her daiquiri. The latter thanked her while Jasper simply downed the drink, clearing his throat at the fleeting but sharp burn. Chanel sipped her drink, twirling around the straw that was provided.

"I'm…fucked up," Jasper admitted.

"Ohhhh really, do tell me more," Chanel said sarcastically.

"Ay okay, okay…ion tell people much about my life, cuz that shit buns. I said…shit can go wrong, but it's not 'anything.'"

"I mean technically anythin' can go wrong."

"Yeah, but with mons it's a specific problem. I learned this shit the hard way on multiple occasions. You ever been with a mon?"

"No," Chanel admitted, sipping her drink.

"One thing I had to learn to deal with is controlling my power," Jasper explained, "First time I ever nutted in a bitch, I ended up electructin' her." Cindy Maw, he remembered, sighing angrily to himself.

"Oh shit—she dead?"

"Nah, nah, she was fine—but that shit hurt. She screamed and kicked me out," Jasper said, "She…was my first."

"Oof," Chanel murmured, sipping her drink again.

"Yeah. And she was a mon. But with human girls…I had to figure out how to hold back and not lose control, cuz I could end up really hurtin' them, or even killin' them. There's a lot of nasty ass stories like that. A mon and a human together, the mon ends up killin' the human cuz they ain't realize that humans don't got defense stats, or attack stats or special attack stats. They be arguin'…and the mon gets angry and hits their human wife or somethin', and ends up killin' her cuz he ain't realize how frail she was or how strong he was. Or they havin' sex or somethin', and someone loses control of they special abilities—ends up fryin' em, or freezin' em…killing 'em."

"Yeah… every other week there some story 'bout some nigga dyin' cuz they dealin' with a mon or something."

"I had to learn to hold back," Jasper said, "But there was only one person I ain't gotta hold back with, cuz she was an electric type just like me. It was…incredible. But…also horrible. And…Los Lados…full of horrible shit I did…that I ain't tryna go back to."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Jasper said, taking a drag, "Anyways…Rapier ain't likin' dealin' with humans…make sense. The nigga descends from Rapidashes. They strong as a moffucka. If he lost control, he could break you in half or burn yo skin off." Jasper gently touched his back. Fauna had left grisly marks on his skin during sex. Her high attack stat meant she had to hold back and be careful not to apply too much force or bones could be broken.

"Oh…I see…well, yeah, I'm aware of that shit."

"Ay tho, if you like him, go for it tho…just…be careful."

"It ain't like I like him tho," Chanel said, sipping her drink coyly, "We—"

"Just friends," Jasper said, laughing to himself, "Iight."

"It'll be fine," she said, whispering, "It'll be fine."

Haze walked up to the lounge, the attaché case in his hand, "I'm puttin' this in the SUV," he said, grabbing Jasper's case as well and walking out with it. Jasper nodded, taking off the choice specs and pocketing them. Being seen with them outside would be an instant arrest. Soon enough, Glen was carrying a suitcase as well, following Haze outside. Trailing behind him was Indy, Sticks and Barry. They greeted the people at the front desk, a polite gesture and went to the SUV, loading up the back.

"Ay," Chanel took her feet off the table, patting Jasper's shoulder, "I'ma head out. I'ma text you when we find that Kalos bitch."

He gave her a quick nod and she got up, shimmying past him and followed the crew members out.

It was sundown when Jasper reached home. He walked in, seeing that Festival was trying to cook something: steak and fries. Mardi was on her phone, shouting at her to hurry up because she was hungry. Pam was watching television and Diddy was listening to music, curled up on the couch.

"Here."

Jasper tossed Pam a brand new smartphone and she caught it, wide eyed. She narrowed her eyes in delight at him and Jasper smiled back. He went into the kitchen, giving an annoyed grunt when he saw that Festival had burnt the steak.

"Ay man, what the hell," he said, turning off the stove, "You cook this shit in the oven, bruh."

"I been told her that," Mardi called out.

"I didn't want to use the oven because it would take too long," Festival whimpered shamefacedly.

"The fuckin' steak ruined bruh…you know how much this be costin'. Festival…you ain't gotta cook, bruh. I'll cook."

"You can't cook nigga. Yo oxtail is trash!" Mardi shouted from the living room.

"MARDI, SHUT UP," he snapped and then took a deep breath, "Ay, if you can cook better than my ass, be my guest."

"I can cook?" Mardi asked, excitedly.

"Yeah, yeah, knock yo self out. Festival, baby, we can't eat this shit, its burnt."

"Oh…okay…"

He chucked the burnt steak and fries into the trash. He looked in the fridge for anything else to cook. He growled when he saw most of the food already been eaten but found oxtail. He took it out.

"Mardi!"

She came scurrying into the kitchen and he gave the oxtail to her.

"Festival you can help her."

The Flareon girl smiled and Jasper left them to their devices, heading to his room. He looked at his phone, scrolling through his contacts. He nervously selected "Nadio." The phone rang and rang and soon enough, it went to voicemail. He sighed and set the phone down, lighting a cigarette. He took a drag and kicked off his loafers, stripping down to his boxers and laid down in bed. Soon enough, the phone began to ring. He grabbed it so fast it slipped out his hand but he caught it in time. He checked the caller I.D: it was Nadio. He inhaled deeply and breathed out, nervously accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"…Jasper?" Nadio asked. He had a man's voice—that sounded damn near similar to him.

"Ay…uh…"

There was a short but uncomfortable silence.

"…Hey…uh…why you callin?" Nadio asked.

"Wanted to…say hi," Jasper said, realizing how stupid that sounded. He moaned inwardly.

"…You…haven't said hi to me in like ten years…or is it fifteen. Ion know, I ain't be keepin' track. What you want? You dyin' or something?"

"No, nah, nah," Jasper said, "Hey listen—I wanna say somethin'."

"Say it then," Nadio said, taking a sip of his water bottle.

"I'ma apologize…for…what I did," Jasper began, "Ain't nothin' I say gonna make up for the time lost, or how I treated yo moms…or you."

"Yeah like insistin' I wasn't yours and shit? Yep…" Nadio groused.

"Yeah, yeah I was trippin'," Jasper admitted, "I'm sorry boy. I shoulda been there. I shoulda…been a dad. And…if you ain't wanna talk to me no more, I get it. You…did good without…me. Glory raised you good."

"Yeah. She did."

There another stint of silence and Nadio sighed.

"I…gotta go…it's nice that you called, Jasper."

"Yeah…iight…later then…if you ever need anythin', just…call."

"Yep," Nadio said, hanging up and downing the rest of his water bottle. Jasper looked at his phone and set it aside, taking a long, tired drag.

Well…he's gon' be fine

But I'ma be here, whenever you need me