Page 81 of A Beast Captured My Heart

She knocked a couple more times, and we stood there for two minutes, too long for me. I stepped up to the door and turned the door handle, and not even to my surprise, the shit opened right up. Michael really was on some strong-ass drugs. It couldn’t be just cocaine. A lot of niggas that I did business with were high-functioning crackheads and never let the shit get in the way of them making money. Michael was on some heavy shit to be living like this. We were not even raised like this. Michael’s spoiled ass was used to luxury, so I knew he couldn’t be content in this shithole, which is why he felt desperate to rob our mom.

A strong ass odor hit me before it hit anyone, and my stomach tightened. The smell was familiar. Besides the piss and the smell of cigarettes, I smelled death before we even stepped in all the way. I’d been around plenty of dead people to know the familiar stench, and something hit me that Michael had probably robbed and killed someone and was probably too high to get rid of the body. I hoped like hell that was what it was.

Once we entered the front room, there was condoms, bottles of liquor, and all type of bullshit lying around that we had to step over. The worn couch had stains on it, but besides that, I spotted an MCM backpack that my mom walked up to that had money spilling out onto the couch area. Turning to Brick and Dion, they had their guns out. I nodded my head towards the door, and they took their position on guard. My gut was telling me something was wrong. I was about to find something I didn’t want to find. That tight feeling in my stomach just wouldn’t subside.

I didn’t have to say anything. I walked away from my mom, counting the money. I walked on the fucked up stained carpet until I reached a room. The door was almost off the hinges, so it hung open slightly. Opening it up all the way, I laid eyes on Michael, a white chick and a nigga who looked to be twenty. Michael was in the middle with his eyes wide open, a needle still stuck in his arms. The white chick and the nigga had needles of their own still stuck in their arms as well. The only difference was their eyes were closed, but white foam was dried up all-around their lips. I stood there and couldn’t move; flashbacks of me showing Michael how to tie his shoes and all the times I gave a helping hand came to mind.

I remember when he had nightmares, and even though I battled my own with the voices and everything else, I pushed my shit to the side to tend to him. “My baby brother!” Praise cried. I felt my heart pounding and breaking at the same time.

I tried my hardest to never really show Michael my imperfections. I didn’t want him weighed down with my burdens. All I ever wanted to do was be the best big brother I could be to him, even though, at times, that was hard as fuck. Before I knew it, I dropped down to my knees. I could feel the pain from my knee replacement and the way I hit the ground. I ignored the pain because the pain in my chest and heart hurt worse. My baby brother lay with his eyes wide-open, dead. It was unreal. It felt better saying I was gon’ kill him. Saying that shit only made me feel better from all the pain he cost me by betraying me. Now, it was reality, and it felt like I spoke that shit to life. Like females always hollering about manifestation, I hope I didn’t speak on killing him that much that it really happened.

"Ohhhh NOOOO!" my mom screamed loud, shattering my heart even more.

"Praise, save my baby! Call an ambulance! Michael! Michael, get up, baby! Praise and I are about to take you to get some help.”

My shoulders dropped as I watched my mom in a daze. She walked towards the bed and covered Michael's body with the thick cover. She tried to move the bodies, but they were too heavy. Crawling over them, I couldn’t find my voice to tell her to stop. I was always the strongest out of all of us, and right now, I just couldn't find my strength. I watched my mom as she tried to do CPR. She ignored the needle that was still stuck in his arm.

"He got a hold of some bad dope. I got a baggie of that shit, even though we never served heroin. I got a homie that used to serve that shit. I can look at this shit and tell it was laced with some other shit,” Stone spoke low. I kept my eyes fixed on my mom, she desperately repeated CPR on Michael, but I knew it was useless. He was gone. His eyes already started to cloud up. Standing to my feet, I wiped the tears that didn’t fall from my eye sockets and told Stone to call the police to get the coroners here.

Each step I made towards my mom and the bodies that lay before me was hard.

“Ma,” I spoke with a lump of pain in my throat that I forced to swallow down. Each time I laid eyes on Michael, the flashbacks of when we were kids kept coming to mind. It felt like a thousand voices were speaking to me at once. I couldn’t get them to tone it down, and my heart started to do some funny shit. I had to will myself not to have a panic attack because I had to be strong for my mom. Praise kept saying that to me. I somehow closed my eyes and let him take over, something I hadn’t done in a while because I was trying to merge us as one.

Chapter Forty-Two

PRAISE

The tears dripped down my face like a faucet being ran too long. I looked at my mom on top of Michael and almost lost it. Beast couldn’t deal with being super emotional, and I almost couldn’t either. I choked back on the sob I was holding back and reached over the white girl that was naked to grab my mom’s arm.

“You have to get off of him, momma. Come on.” She sobbed louder and harder. Once she made it from on top of Michael, she balled her fist and hit me with all her might.

“Save him, Praise! You save your fucking brother now! He’s still got life in him, got dammit! Don’t you give up on him now!” she cried out, and my chest swelled up with pain as I looked into her eyes. “Ain’t shit we can fucking do! Make her sit the fuck down!” Ignoring Beast, I stepped around my mom and used two fingers to check Michael’s pulse just to prove to her that he was gone. His skin was cold to the touch, so I knew he was done for.

“He’s gone, momma.” I looked down at the stained carpet and wiped my tears as she slapped me hard in the face.

“She’s blaming us! This is why I made her ass come. We could’ve walked in on any fuckin thing, and she would’ve still blamed us! Let’s fuckin go!” Beast didn’t mean shit he was saying; he just didn’t know how to deal with his own feelings towards the situation. I could feel him hurt because all of me hurt badly from this.

“You wanted my baby dead! This is on you, Praise!” she cried hard as she dropped to her knees. Feeling defeated, I watched Stone console her as I turned on the balls of my feet and walked out of the room.

I walked to Stone’s car and twisted me up a blunt. Connecting my phone to his AUX cord, I blasted Tupac’s “I Ain’t Mad at Cha” as I smoked and reflected on my life with my little brother. I tried to cross out all the bad things he did and thought about all the fun times we had, all the big bags of cash we blew through when we would hit one of the many clubs I owned. I wanted nothing but the best for him. I knew he didn’t have what I had in me to be the ruler of the streets, but I still let him in because, the truth was, I hated seeing that disappointed look on his face when I told him no. He was a fly young nigga, real flashy, always cared what people thought about him. His jealousy got in the way of the love he had for me. That’s when signals got crossed, and he stabbed me in the back.

His death made all the wrong shit he’d ever done to me not valid anymore. I didn’t want him around me, but I still wanted him alive. It probably was twisted, but that’s just how I felt. I sat in the car for two hours in my feelings. I watched Stone step outside as he held my mom up, trying his best to help balance her as the coroners walked out with three body bags. The last one had to be Michael. She fought the police and all the men around her to try to unzip the black bag and grab onto Michael, causing him to fall to the ground off the gurney.

I wanted to step out of the car and help them, but I didn’t fuck with the pigs. My mom wasn’t in her right state of mind, and her yelling and saying shit like it was my fault could’ve made me a suspect. It took everything in me to stay put; her screams and cries moved me. I knew right then and there, looking at my mother, that without Michael here, shit would never be the same. I still kept some sort of faith and said a prayer for my mom’s strength and mine.

Chapter Forty-Three

KAYORI

It was nearing two o’clock in the morning, and I was furious. Matthew and Mattea were both sleeping well. I sent Praise about five text messages and called his ass about three times. When I texted him and asked him where the hell his ass was at, he sent a one-word text at twelve saying he was out. That threw my nerves in overdrive. I started reciting lines on what I was gon’ say to him once he walked through the door.

Today was a big, yet sad, day for me. It was my mom’s birthday, and I wanted to take the kids with me to her and Malcolm's grave site. Out of all the days and nights he decided to be out and about, this was the night I needed him. Usually, on this day, I was consumed with hurt and anger, thinking about all the what-ifs. I didn’t feel too sad because my house was full of people I loved. I just needed Praise to hold me and tell me that everything was going to be okay.

I stood up from the bed and checked on the baby. He laid there, sucking his pacifier, sound asleep. Walking to the second bedroom that I used as my office, Praise bought a bed for Mattea, and she too was sound asleep. She slept super wild. Her covers were off her. Pulling the covers back on her, I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, then took a seat in my living room to wait up for Praise.

Another hour went by when I finally heard him putting the keys in the door. He limped inside and looked me right in the eyes. My heart slammed in my chest when I noticed his eyes were bloodshot red. The only thing that shined bright was his big gray eyes. A look of defeat crossed his face as he looked down at the floor and then back at me. I stood to my feet and made my way to him. All the lines I had in my head to say to him went out the window. All I wanted to do now was make sure my man was okay. Walking right into his arms, he smelled like cologne mixed with weed and liquor. I hugged him tight as we both remained silent.

Hearing him sniffle and feeling the hot tears fall on my shoulder had me crying too. I didn’t know what was wrong, but him hurting made me hurt. His pain was my pain, and all I wanted to do was make it right for him. Caressing his back and then massaging his shoulders, he became more vulnerable. I couldn’t believe that Praise was really crying hard in my arms. Releasing me, he limped towards the couch. I hated when he limped, it was a reminder that I had harmed him. He only limped when his knee was bothering him badly, and right now was a sign of that. I walked into the kitchen and got him a bottle of cold water. Going into the drawer, I went through all his different medicines and retrieved pain meds and his anxiety pills. Making my way back to him as fast as I could, he said nothing as he held onto my couch pillow and looked downward at nothing in particular.