Adored by a Brooklyn Drug Lord 2 Page 5

  “We made a collective decision to tell Kelsey the news when we were both ready!” Daddy shouted, the bass in his voice making me hold my food tighter. “How could you think it was okay to tell my child something like that without me being around?”

  Normani replied back, and I felt my stomach turn at the pain in her voice. Her response was thick from crying. “Because I am sick and tired of lying to her, Uriah! Fucking sick of it! She deserves to know what's going on in her own home. You have always been the one who's good at hiding behind a mask, pretending everything is fine when it’s falling apart, but that isn't me!” A sob cut her off, the gasping sound tempting me to knock and offer my soda. “I know why you're really upset; because I told her my truth while you can't bear to tell her yours.”

  “She doesn’t need that burden!”

  “It’s not your choice to make!” Normani screeched. In a calmer tone, she said, “I know you're scared, baby. I'm scared too. You are doing a disservice to me and Kelsey by pretending everything is fine when I know it isn't. The symptoms are going to only grow worse. She deserves to spend more time with you while you're still—”

  “Me?” Daddy croaked. “I know I need to tell her, baby. I planned to before I left DC, but she needed a father more than she needed to know my prognosis. How am I supposed to tell her that the man who raised her is fading away? That in a few years I’ll be…”

  “I will be right there beside you. I made a promise in front of God that I will always be there for you, Urban. Even when I want to strangle you.”

  The bedroom was silent, and I could picture the two of them holding each other. I listened as Daddy comforted Normani, soothing her each time she sniffled. A sob slipped out of my mouth. I pursed my lips together to keep another one from sneaking out. They bubbled in my throat, choking me as I stood in the hallway trying to figure out what my next move was. I was done living a lie. Taking small steps, I made my way toward the bedroom door. My fingers brushed the knob as it twisted. The door swung open revealing my father, a stoic statue dressed in the bathrobe I bought him last Father’s Day. We stood there, staring at one other, unable to find the right words.

  “Parkinson’s,” he said with a grim shake of his head.

  I placed my head on his chest. My hands went slack, letting go of the food in my hands. Daddy caught everything, handing it over to Normani, and wrapped his arms around me. I broke down, crying at how stupid I was for spending so much time going back and forth with Quill, fighting with Morris, and moving on with Peace, that I forgot to check in on the very first man I ever fell in love with.

  5

  Briana

  I sagged against my front door, running my acrylic nails along the hairline of my lace wig, repeating the motion until the glue loosened and the wig slipped back. I grabbed it before it could hit the floor, kicked off my shoes, and stalked deeper into my apartment. The sun had beat me home, seeping through the cracks of my curtains as if to keep me from getting the sleep I desperately needed. I tugged every curtain in the apartment shut, starting with the ones in the kitchen and ending in my bedroom. Shrugging out of the tattered clothing I wore from my night with Goo, I stopped at the sight of my bed. Morris had left while I was out and made sure to clean up after himself. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed a bottle of makeup remover from my vanity, rubbing it all over my face on my way to the bathroom. Beads of steaming hot project water greeted my skin like an old friend. I scrubbed my skin raw with my favorite eucalyptus exfoliator.

  “Damn that feels good,” I said, plopping down on my bed dressed in nothing but a towel, reveling in the feeling of the cool air on my skin.

  Crawling into bed still damp, I closed my eyes, sending a quick prayer up to God as I drifted in and out sleep. My body relaxed as I slipped into a dreamless slumber, seeing nothing but the inside of my eyelids. A thump knocked me right out of my sleep. Tossing the covers off of me, I bolted out of my bedroom and ran straight into the boys’ bedroom where Mal was staying. He was on the floor, choking out a woman who had a baggie of vials in her hand. I removed my towel from my body, jumping behind him and wrapping it around his throat, choking him so he could let go of her.

  “Mal, get off of her!” I screamed, attempting to pry his hands from around her throat when the towel didn’t work.

  Mal bucked, knocking me off of his back and into the wooden plank of the bunk bed taking up a majority of the tiny bedroom. The blow was enough to stun me. The entire room spun, ebbing in and out of focus as I tried to regain my balance to no avail. Mal let go of the woman, turning his attention to me. Like anyone with common sense, she used this to her advantage, crawling to the doorway where she stood up and ran down the hall. The door slammed as Mal picked me up, carrying me back into my bedroom. He tucked me back into bed with shaking hands, placing the cover underneath my chin.

  “I ain't mean to wild out on you like that, Bri,” Mal apologized, reminding me of when we were little kids and he would get me in trouble. “I invited Cassidy up here to chill, smoke a little something, and while my back was turned I caught her trying to steal from me. I snapped. Trust me, it won't happen again.”

  “Mal, I promised you I wouldn’t press you about getting clean, but you were willing to kill for that shit. What if I didn’t come? She would be dead! I don’t want any bodies on your hands,” I choked out, dabbing at my eyes with the edge of the comforter.

  “Bri, I'm not the little boy you helped Mommy raise. You think I've survived this long on the streets being scared? I've done shit I can't even speak on in the name of a hit.” My facial expression changed, encouraging Mal to find a better way to comfort me. “Some days I wake up tired of this shit. Like, I had a lot of stuff I wanted to accomplish. Dad pushed me to focus on getting into law school because the family needed a lawyer, but I liked messing around with cars. On those tired days I think of cars, and how I want to build my very own one, one day.”

  I reached out for his hand, resting it underneath my chin. “Mal, you can do anything you set your mind to, including kicking this shit. The next time you're feeling tired, come to me. I’ll be there. I know his death fucked your head up, but if Prince and Precious can get past it, I know you can too.”

  Mal kissed me on the forehead. “Maybe one day.”

  He left right after, promising to check in on me every two hours. I wasn’t sure how true that was—Mal lost sense of time with every hit of the pipe—but I was grateful for him caring enough to make some effort. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I opened Instagram, scrolling through my feed until I got to Eric’s profile. He posted a picture of his son early this morning. I recalled the conversation I had with Morris last night, and I could feel the guilt that plagued me at the loss of my baby girl ease a little. My scrolling continued, slowing down as my lids drooped. The vibrating of my phone against my face woke me up this time. It was a text message from Eric asking me if I could meet him at Methodist Hospital. I hopped out of bed, running to take another shower, and getting ready in less than twenty minutes. In the same amount of time, I was entering the automatic doors of the hospital. Eric was posted up against a pillar watching the door. He beckoned for me to follow him down the hall.

  “Is everything good with you?” I asked, feeling little flips in my stomach as we approached the elevator.

  Eric gave me a curt head nod. “Not exactly. We’ll talk about it in a minute.”

  The elevator doors sprang open, letting off a bevy of hospital personnel and visitors of patients. We boarded, with Eric standing on one side of the elevator while I remained on the other, checking my phone for updates on Jamel's condition. His nurse sent me a message letting me know his vitals were strong, he had eaten, and if he continued trending in this direction he should be ready to head home in another week.

  “Who are we here to visit?” I asked, eyeing Eric with mild suspicion.

  He answered with another wave of his hand, motioning for me to enter the last room on the left. The door closed behind me, shutting
me in the room with whoever was behind the hospital’s privacy curtains. I stopped short at the sight of Quill sitting up in bed, his hands crossed in front of him. Nope, I thought, backing away from him, I'm not doing this shit today.

  “You at least owe me five minutes of your time,” he said as my hand touched the doorknob.

  I rolled my eyes. “Quill, I don’t owe you a motherfucking thing.”

  “Place your hand over your chest,” he requested. I ignored him, keeping my hand on the knob. “Well then at least listen. You hear that? It’s your heart beating. Off the strength of me, you aren't six feet under.”

  “I don’t know what you're talking about!”

  “So you didn’t set Kelsey up to be raped?”

  Quill was staring at me with that cocky grin of his as I turned around, creeping over to his bed. “I was on some other shit when I made that call. If I could go back in time it would’ve never crossed my mind.” My rationalization fell upon deaf ears. “What do you want from me? If it’s money you won't get much; my family barely wanted to give me the piece of Mott Haven I got.”

  “That’s why I called you here. I have a lot of weight to move, and I can't do it with the real estate I have. I need somewhere else, and since you’ve taken over Goo’s spot, I was thinking you could let me and Eric work out of Mott Haven. It’ll only be for a few months.”

  “How do you know I took over for Goo?”

  He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “It does if someone’s putting my business out there. I'm trying to move in silence; you should be asking the same if you want to work together,” I shot back, tossing my purse onto an empty seat and sitting in the one beside it. “Why do you need two sets of territories? You working for two different people or something?”

  Quill’s expression said enough. “Can I have Eric bring in the product or not?”

  “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

  Eric stepped into the room, his eyes flickering between the two of us. Right behind him was Quill’s brother, Bull. I didn’t know him well, but he was the right hand of my father, one of the few people who considered Malone Mackenzie a friend. He greeted me with a hug and kiss on the cheek, giving the condolences he was unable to since my family chased him out of town. Quill's jaw set at the show of affection, and for a millisecond you would think he wasn’t part of the initial plot to take my family down. I ignored his show of self-righteousness, holding out my phone for him to put his number in. After he was done I pressed it, calling his phone, and letting it ring a few times before hanging up.

  “Give me a call later,” I said, stuffing my phone and making my way to the door. “See you around, Eric.”

  My ex gave me a look. “I’ll walk you to the elevator—”

  “No, Eric, I don’t need anything from you,” I spoke over him, annoyed with myself for thinking he would call me for any other reason than to complicate my life.

  His ego couldn’t take the rejection, and he followed me from the room anyway. Shaking my head, I pulled my AirPods out of my purse and placed them in my ears, fiddling with them on the walk to the elevator. Since he wanted to be Mr. Gentleman and follow me after I told him to leave me the fuck alone, he could catch a swift cussing out on the way.

  “I know you're behind this, Eric,” I hissed, shoving him so hard he damn near stumbled into someone's room. “How did you find out it was me?”

  “I knew that nigga looked familiar. After scrolling your IG page I saw him comment under your birthday post.”

  My stride slowed. “What the fuck are you doing on my IG page, Eric? I don’t think that dizzy ass baby mother of yours would appreciate that.”

  His cheeks turned red with embarrassment. “Every once in a blue I check in on you, aight? We may not always see eye-to-eye on shit, but you're the mother of my first child. There's a piece of my heart that will forever belong to you.”

  “Funny; I have a piece of your heart but you left me to put mine together after the loss of our child. You slandered me to anyone who would listen. Whatever piece of your heart I have, keep that shit,” I said, storming down the hall before he could see the tears clouding my vision.

  The elevator arrived as I approached, empty just for me. I stabbed the lobby button, muttering for the doors to close in case Eric thought of following after me with more paper thin sweet talk. A foot placed itself between the doors as they closed, springing them right back open. I had a slew of cusswords on the tip of my tongue, ready to unload them onto Eric the moment I saw his sorry face. They died on the tip of my tongue at the sight of Bull. He apologized as he stepped on, pressing the close button.

  “These young niggas have no idea what they have until they fucking some little goofy bitch that ain't worth a damn who starts running down their pockets,” Bull said to no one in particular. He glanced down at me. “I might not live in Mott Haven anymore, but I keep my ears to the streets. That little girl Eric fuck with ain't nothing but a sack chaser. She's there for the highs, the Gucci and shit, but her loyalty stops once the money dries up.”

  “You ain't gotta tell me,” I said, knowing Eric’s baby mother Chastity’s loyalty was only because there weren’t too many avenues for her to go down without a high school diploma.

  Bull chuckled. “What did these young niggas call you down here for anyway?”

  “They wanted me to front them some product,” I lied with ease; if Bull wasn’t privy to their plan, it was for a reason.

  He bought it with very little argument. “Sounds about right; the connect we had lined up fell through.”

  I let out a sigh of relief as the elevator doors opened on the lobby floor. Bull followed me off, his imposing stature earning him stares from everyone we passed. I could see that he reveled in giving people pause, which was rare with a black man in this day and age where they were murdered for existing. We spent the rest of the walk to my car in silence, with Bull checking his phone screen every now and again. He didn’t speak on his reason for finding me until I pressed the key fob to my car, a Cadillac CTS I rarely drove due to Jamel chauffeuring me around.

  “Bri, don’t think I forgot about how these niggas did Malone,” Bull spoke up, leaning in as if someone was listening in on our conversation. “I wanted to retaliate, but it would’ve been me against The Trust. The real Trust. Without the protection of Malone, I was looking at guns from every angle. My only chance at getting revenge for your pops was to retreat and bide my time. Five years later, it’s here.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not. You think my uncle was powerful then? Urban owns the East Coast. I have an entire life to live for and I'm not throwing it away to end up dead. My father wouldn’t want that.”

  “He also wouldn’t want to hear that you're bowing down to his brother when you have every right to have his seat at the table. Malone was third in command. Who do you think has taken that spot?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “I’ll tell you who! NO ONE! They would rather keep Malone's seat empty than give you the opportunity to eat. You're still living in the projects while they're resting their heads in ten-million-dollar homes.” Bull's nostrils flared, and I remembered why they gave him his nickname. “You wanna know the real reason why I came back? It had nothing to do with my pussy ass little brother lying in a hospital bed. I came back to take this entire game for Malone, for you. Are you in?”

  This was everything I had been waiting on: the opportunity to take what rightfully belonged to me. I was an underdog, one that no one would ever see coming. The moves I could make with Bull by my side were monumental, and by the end of the year I could be seated at the head of the table. They could also be tumultuous. As my father bled out on the cold pavement, he was making a run for it. Bull was cool people, but before I jumped into any type of business, I needed to see how he operated on his own.

  “I have a lot on my plate right now. Mal is going through his own stuff, I have to help my mother with the restaurant…”

 
; Bull listened to my excuses, his expression unchanging. “You don’t have to say any more, Bri. Just know I’ll be ready to take you on with open arms when the time is right. Be safe out here…”

  I watched as Bull trekked back to the hospital, hands in his pockets, his head held high as he accepted his L like a real man. This was the moment I had been waiting for; a chance at going after what I wanted with a real street soldier. So why did I turn it down? I thought of my father, who plotted on The Trust, creating the perfect plan that fell through because it didn’t have the right finesse. He also didn't have a right hand as strong as his left. I couldn’t put my life in Bull’s hands the way my father did. No, when I came for The Trust, there would be no mistakes left to chance. I would do this on my own, with no cowardice allowed.

  6

  Quill

  Legacy Evans’s appearance on this earth had been less than twenty-four hours, and Drea was already on an ego trip. All of a sudden the apartment we were staying in wasn’t good enough, including the thousands of dollars she spent on designer baby clothes, baby furniture, and strollers. She appeared an hour after Eugenio's departure, dressed in silk pajamas with a matching robe, taking a seat on the edge of my bed, waking me from my slumber with soothing strokes to my face. I opened my eyes and found her peering down at me with tears in hers. She threw herself onto my chest, blubbering that she thought I was going to die. I patted her on the back, thinking, of course Drea would have to make my near death experience about her.