"My people got rid of that shank before the guards could get to it," Zaire went on. "Ain't nobody see what the fuck happened to Toolie. My people solid. They don't break the code by speaking on shit like that. A whole brawl broke out after that, with Toolie people and mine. Like the whole fucking jail was at war in thatbitch. Niggas from my block was moving like we been locked in for life. They had my back with no questions asked."
Namier was shaking his head in disbelief. "Nine lives, nigga. You got nine muthafucking lives."
Zaire tried to laugh but it turned into a cough. His whole body tensed up from the pain.
I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. Kept it there. Let him feel my presence as his big brother.
"This ain't the first time you dodged death," I said. "But it's the last time. You hear me, nigga?”
Zaire nodded weakly.
He tried to sit up a little bit, wincing hard from the pain as the wounds pulled. Namier rushed over and adjusted the bed for him, working around the cuff. Theyhad him cuffed on the bed railing. That was some disrespectful shit right there. My brother stabbed in prison and they still got him cuffed like he hadn’t almost just died.
"Listen to me," I said, leaning close so he could hear me clearly. "I'm getting you the fuck out of here. That's my main objective when I walk out that door. You coming home. I can promise you that on everything I got."
Zaire looked at me and something in his eyes shifted. He understood. He knew I meant it.
"It's war with them Brick Boyz, fa sho.” I continued. "And I need you out here with me. This shit was too close. Way too close. That hit was organized. They sent somebody in here to take you out and they almost did it. But you handled yourself like a muthafuckin Carter."
Zaire laughed, and this time it was a real laugh despite the pain. "Them niggas know not to try that shit again. They just lost one of their soldiers in there and they know what's coming next.”
I shook my head. This nigga wasn't even worried. He was already thinking about the next move. Already thinking about retaliation.
"You coming home," I said again, more to myself than to him. "And when you do, we finna terrorize some shit. Ain’t no letting up or stopping now!”
Namier was standing there with his arms crossed, but his whole demeanor had shifted. The relief was real now. His brother was alive. His brother had won his fight that was supposed to take him out the game.
A guard appeared in the doorway.
"Time's up," the guard said.
I didn't move for a second. Just looked at Zaire one more time. Looked at my little brother who'd just killed a man and lived to tell about it. Who'd just shown me that no matter if he was alone in that prison, he wouldn’t break.
"We coming back to make a loud ass statement.” I said. "And next time you see me, you walking out of that bitch ass prison with us."
"Let's go," Tyree said from behind us.
We walked out of that room and I already knew what my next move was. Zaire was getting out. No matter what it took. No matter what strings Tyree had to pull or what corners we had to cut.
My brother was coming home. This shit was too close of a call, and now, all this did was put fire under my ass to push the issue of getting him free.
Istood in the hallway outside Zaire's room with my arms wrapped around myself. The way they rushed in this hospital and into that room, it had my nerves on edge. I wanted Kaseem to know that I was here for him, but I didn’t want to be in his way while something so serious was going on.
The security guard that was on watch for Zaire was posted across from me against the opposite wall, giving me space but not going anywhere. I could hear movement in the room - Kaseem and Namier rushing to the bedside of their brother, their voices mixing with what sounded like Zaire's weak responses.
My heart was beating so hard I thought it might actually break through my ribs.
I'd never lost anyone before. Never stood in a hospital not knowing if someone I cared about was alive or dead. And now I was standing here in this hallway, damn near married to a man whose brother might be gone or close to it, and I couldn't do anything but wait. Couldn't help. Couldn't fix it. Just pray that when that door opened again, it would be with better news.
I was so wrapped up in my own head that I didn't notice my father walking up until he was already there, stopping a few feet away from me with his hands in his pockets.
"Baby girl, can we please talk," he said quietly.
I looked at him and something in my chest twisted. The way he said it - like we were still close. Like everything was still normal between us. Like it hadn't just been revealed that he was a murderer and had sold his own daughter to a crime family to keep his secrets buried.
"I'm not your baby girl and please don’t call me that again," I said, and my voice came out sharper than I expected. "From the looks of things, you got a toddler. That’s your baby girl. Not me.”
His whole face shifted. He looked like I'd physically hit him. My father wasn’t used to me speaking to him like this, but I also wasn’t used to knowing that he was a triflin ass liar either.
