Zyir laid Breeze back down in the bed as Mecca nodded and walked out of the room. It was too much for him to bear to see Breeze in so much distress.
Carter stared callously at Mecca as he entered the living room, and an uncomfortable silence filled the space between the two. He walked over to his wet bar and poured two glasses of cognac. He handed one to Mecca.
Mecca hesitantly took the drink from his brother as he stared at him intently. “Is it safe to drink?” Mecca asked directly.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Carter shot back.
As the two men sat waiting for Zyir to finish his time with Breeze, they did not speak, but the silence spoke louder than any words ever could. This reunion was supposed to be joyous, but there was a great divide between the two brothers that put a thick fog over the mood.
“Fuck it, nigga, let’s get everything out in the open and lay the cards on the table. I know you know I killed your bitch,” Mecca stated bluntly as he put his hand conveniently on his waistline near his.45.
“You gon’ shoot me like you shot Monroe?” Carter countered, unrattled by Mecca. Carter had never been afraid of another nigga a day in his life, and the loose cannon in front of him was no exception. The safety on Carter’s pistol was already off, and by the time Mecca chambered a round he would already be circled in chalk, if he wanted to play it that way. As Carter stared at Mecca, his nostrils flared in anger, but he kept his composure.
“That was a mistake,” Mecca stated.
“I should have killed you. I’ve killed niggas for less than what you’ve done, but you’re my brother, Mecca. I’m not like you. Loyalty is everything to me. If you had been any other nigga, I would have blown your brains out of your fucking head,” Carter stated, enunciating each word so that Mecca understood him clearly. He paused as he stared intently at Mecca.
“Then why didn’t you?” Mecca asked as he removed his.45 and placed it on his lap, his finger wrapped around the trigger, just in case. He did not want to have to shoot Carter, but there was malice in the air, and he knew that if he gave Carter the chance to bust first, it was over.
“Because you’re not any other nigga. You are my blood, and having Breeze back has brought some perspective into my life. Family is all there is. Our sister is in that room right now, suffering because of a war you started… because of a lie that you told. We are the last three standing, and because of that, I cannot kill you. My sister… our sister loves you and she needs you. It is because of her and because of her only that I am willing to leave the past in the past.”
“Everybody wanna label Mecca the bad guy,” Mecca stated as he hit his chest and put his gun away. “You think this family isn’t everything to me?” he asked. “I was out of my mind when I shot Money. I never meant for him to die, but you can’t point fingers, Carter, because if family was so important to you, then you would have watched the company you kept.”
“I’m not in the mood to decipher riddles. If you got something to say, just say it,” Carter replied.
“That bitch Miamor! Open your eyes! She was just like me. She poisoned my mother, and her fucking Murder Mamas tried to kill me.”
“Don’t put falsehoods on a ghost, Mecca. As a matter of fact, don’t even speak her name,” Carter stated harshly. It was too soon for Mecca to even try to justify his actions. Thinking of Miamor was like pouring alcohol on an open wound for Carter. It was excruciating.
“See, that’s the shit I’m talking about! The truth has been in front of your face the entire time. You don’t want to see it! You were fucking the enemy, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you were just a mark to her all along. The bitch was a killer-a damned good one, too,” Mecca stated with an ironic chuckle. “I did what you would have never been able to do! I protected this family, no matter the cost, so you can blame me all you want, but let me ask you this question: If I didn’t kill her, who would she have killed next?”
Zyir came into the room and cleared his throat, interrupting the heated conversation. “She needs to be checked out by a doctor,” Zyir said.
“I have a private physician coming here first thing in the morning,” Carter informed. “She’s out there bad. It’s going to take a while for her to readjust and get the drugs out of her system. They were feeding her heroin three times a day, every day, in Mexico. We will all have to keep a very close watch over her.”
“She’s not staying here,” Mecca spoke up. There was no way he was going to let anything happen to Breeze again. Anyplace where Miamor used to rest her head was not safe enough for his little sister. “She’ll be safer at my place.”
“She’s not staying with you,” Carter said with authority. There was no way he was entrusting her life to Mecca. “We both know what you’re capable of.”
“Fuck is that supposed to mean?” Mecca shouted defensively He didn’t appreciate the subtle jabs that Carter was taking at him. There was no way he would ever bring harm to Breeze.
“Means what it means, Mecca. She’s not staying with you,” Carter countered.
Just as an argument was about to break out, Zyir interjected. “She’ll stay with me.” The tone of his voice left no room for argument. Both Mecca and Carter respected Zyir. It was the best place for Breeze to recuperate safely.
Mecca grabbed his jacket and brushed past Carter as he headed for the door. “I’ll be by to see Breeze tomorrow, Zyir. Keep her safe,” he said sincerely.
Zyir nodded, and Mecca walked out without acknowledging Carter as he slammed the door forcefully behind him.
Zyir looked at Carter curiously. “Fuck was that all about?” he asked.
Carter shook his head as worry lines creased his forehead. He downed the rest of his drink before replying, “He killed Miamor.”
Although Zyir had a million questions to ask, he knew that if Carter wanted him to know details, he would have elaborated. Without hesitation, Zyir answered, “You want me to handle that?”
Carter sighed, wishing that the solution could be so easy. He poured himself another drink. “There’s nothing to handle. He’s my brother. I can’t give that order after everything that this family has been through. Just take care of Breeze, Zy. That’s all I need from you right now. You’re the only person who I can trust at the moment. Everybody else in this fucking city has been wearing a mask all along.”
Chapter Thirteen
“The line between the two is so thin that I go back and forth every day.”
Zyir paced anxiously back and forth outside the closed bedroom door as the doctor examined Breeze inside. Worrying over her condition was heart wrenching. He had no idea what she had gone through, and he only hoped that the damage she had suffered could be repaired. The nervousness and gut-bubbling concern that he felt for her was almost unbearable. He felt an overwhelming responsibility to rehabilitate Breeze, to restore her to the beautiful, unscathed young woman she used to be. The love he had for her extended that of girlfriend/boyfriend. He felt obligated to her just as much as he was to himself. It was as if they were one and just by looking into her eyes, he had absorbed all of her pain; he shared it with her and knew that he had to help her heal. Finding her had only been half the battle. The other half was yet to come.
Illiana watched Zyir in silent disgust as she fumed on the inside.
She had no idea just how deeply Zyir’s affection ran for Breeze, but seeing him completely absorbed in her was enough to make Illiana green with envy. It was the attention she craved from him. The love she was scheming to get. Rejection was something she had never learned to take, and Breeze being back in the picture only complicated things for her.
“Why don’t you come to bed, Zyir? It’s three o’clock in the morning, papi,” she said as she walked up on him
