“They doped her up,” Zyir whispered, grief stricken as he grabbed her limp hand and held onto it gently. He kissed it and noticed that she was ice cold. She was in such bad condition that he almost didn’t believe she was alive, but the rise and fall of her chest, along with the weak pulse he felt, told him otherwise. “What did they do to you, B? I’m sorry,” he whispered.
He felt her stir slightly in her sleep as she began to come to. Her eyes opened, and she began to panic at the sight of the unfamiliar setting. She sat up in bed and put her back against the wall as she prepared to defend herself, but when her eyes met Zyir’s, a sense of safety fell over her.
“You’re not real,” she uttered.
“I’m real, ma,” he assured her as he reached out to touch her cheek.
She looked around in bewilderment. “I’m home?” she asked. “This is real?”
“Yeah, you’re home, Breeze. You’re safe now,” Zyir stated. Breeze fell into his embrace as she wept heavily on his shoulder.
“I should have been there,” Zyir said.
Breeze was too hysterical to respond. She choked on her own tears as Zyir held her tightly. Words would only complicate the situation, because neither of them could express how they were feeling.
It was the first time in his adult life that Zyir had allowed himself to cry. The love of a woman had made him whole again. Just seeing her face uplifted him. “I’m not letting you go, ma… ever. You hear me?” he stated as he held onto her tightly. “Tell me you trust me, ma. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over again.
“I trust you, Zyir,” she whispered, absorbing his presence. She sucked it all in, because she was sure that at any moment she would wake up and it would all be a dream.
Mecca knocked on Carter’s door, and when he saw his brother’s face, he immediately became concerned.
“What happened? What’s so urgent?” he asked.
“I found Breeze,” Carter revealed. Mecca’s eyes opened wide with hope as he raced past Carter and went from room to room until he finally located her in the spare bedroom. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her weeping passionately in Zyir’s arms. He noticed her track-ridden arms immediately and winced in internal pain.
“Breeze,” he called out to her, causing her to look up.
“Mecca!” she yelled as she jumped up and leaped into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his entire midsection as if she were still a little girl. He rubbed her hair and rocked her back and forth. He held onto his sister so tightly that she could not breathe, but she did not protest.
This feeling of familiarity, of safety, felt too good to Breeze. She had been deprived of her family for too long, and now she was back. It was too much for her to handle as she sobbed into Mecca’s shoulder.
“Shh, it’s okay now, B,” he whispered as he held back his own tears. His efforts to stay strong failed him as tears began to fall from his eyes. “I’m going to kill a nigga. Everybody who ever hurt you, Breeze, I promise,” he pledged as he felt her heart beating through her chest. “I thought you were gone, Breeze. I thought you were lost forever.”
“They hurt me, Mecca. Over and over again,” she cried.
“They’re dead, B. Don’t even think about that,” Mecca said soothingly. He wiped his eyes as he held onto her. She was so weak that he had to be her strength. There was no room for him to be fragile. Breeze needed him, and as he caressed her hair soothingly, he gritted his teeth from the very thought of the abuse she had suffered. He had never been as gentle with anyone as he was with his baby sister at that moment. The Diamond family had kept her the most sheltered. She was their world.
The excitement of being home overwhelmed her, and her stomach began to boil as she realized how long it had been since her last fix. A full twenty-four hours had gone by, and to an addicted Breeze, that felt like a lifetime. She was used to being high around the clock.
“I’m going to be sick,” she gurgled as she released Mecca. Zyir grabbed a small trash bin that sat beside the bed and rushed to her side as she threw up. Violent fits of vomit spewed from her mouth as Mecca watched in agony.
He knew that her body was craving heroine. He had been in the streets for too long not to notice the symptoms. Breeze was a dope head. His beautiful baby sister had been turned out, and the dismay he felt was written in agony on his face.
“I got her,” Zyir stated, knowing that Mecca was about to break down any second.
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.