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ChapterThree
Choyce
“Did you want to keep this?”Mercy asked, referring to the letter their mother had written Choyce. The brothers had met at the park at eight a.m. Choyce hadn’t slept at all, and by his brother’s bloodshot red eyes, he hadn’t either.
Mercy struggled with accepting the truth. He had been his father’s right hand since he turned eighteen five years ago. In his eyes, their father could do no wrong. Last night changed that, though. Watching their father murder their mother was an image that Choyce was sure would forever play in Mercy’s mind.
He told him what happened—that he’d walked in on their parents arguing over Heather telling Choyce the truth. When Mercy headed toward him to grab the gun, Sonny shot. His shock was the only thing keeping him from killing their father his damn self, but Mercy made it clear if Choyce hadn’t taken his soul… he would have.
Choyce still hadn’t processed everything. It all seemed to happen in a blur. His mind hadn’t quieted down yet. When it did, he was sure he’d fucking break.
His mother was gone.
His father was, too.
Because of him.
Clenching his jaw, Choyce shook his head. “Nah. I don’t want it.”
With a bob of his head, Mercy stuffed the letter in his pocket as he stood. “I’m going to handle this, I promise. Until I do, you and Lavender need to get out of reach. Go to Grace’s place. I’ve already called her. She’s expecting you.”
Choyce’s head shook as he confined a laugh.
“I’m not running from nobody.” He stood. “I stand on what I did.”
“And I respect that,” Mercy replied quickly. Calmly. “But this is a weight you’re not ready to carry, little one.” Choyce chuckled and tried to walk away, but Mercy kept him close by gripping his shoulder. “You think your grandfather is about to let this shit ride? Pops is dead and Uncle George damn near bled out. He’s good, but blood is required as punishment. I need you to get out of the city while I take care of this.”
Nostrils flaring, Choyce looked into his brother’s eyes. They looked the same, but Mercy had more of his mother’s features ironically—including her syrup brown, round eyes. The longer he stared into them, the closer he felt to her. The harder it was for him not to cry. Licking his lips, Choyce looked away and swallowed hard as his eyes watered.
“I can’t miss her funeral,” Choyce said. “I don’t give a fuck about his, but I have to bury my mama.”
Squeezing the back of his neck, Mercy groaned. “You’re pushing it, Choyce. He’s going to expect you at the funeral and will have men there, ready and waiting for you. If you just give me a little time, we can have our own service for her. Please just stay away until I handle this.” When Choyce didn’t reply right away, Mercy added, “Our parents are gone. It’s just us now. I need you to let me do this for you.”
“Aight,” Choyce surrendered. “But if anything happens to you…”
“It won’t.” Mercy’s cocky grin made Choyce smile. “Follow me to the car. I got something for you.”
Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks, Choyce followed his brother to his car. They parked next to each other, so it wouldn’t take long for him to grab whatever it was and dip. As against leaving as Choyce was, he knew Mercy was right. If Mercy hadn’t accidentally shot their uncle, there was no doubt in Choyce’s mind that his grandfather would not have allowed him to leave that home.
Love be damned.
Obedience and loyalty meant more than anything to the Jeromes.
Being his grandson would mean just as little to Armani as Sonny being Choyce’s father did. They were raised to protect what they valued at all costs, and Choyce valued his mother above all. If only he would have shown that last night by just believing her…
Choyce was deep in his thoughts until he felt a bag brush against his abs. Looking down, he accepted the two black duffle bags that Mercy handed him. Setting them on top of his car, he opened one, then the other.
“Happy birthday, little one.”
All Choyce could do was smile and shake his head at the thick stacks of cash that filled the bags.
“Thank you, Mercy. For everything.”
Mercy pulled his brother into his chest for what Choyce thought was going to be a quick hug, but it wasn’t. When he tried to pull away, Mercy held him tighter.
“I got you, Choyce.” His body weakened instantly. “I’m sorry for not seeing him for who he truly was. If I would have, I could have avoided this.” Clutching the back of his brother’s shirt, Choyce inhaled a deep, shaky breath, hoping that would keep him from breaking down. “Let that shit go, baby. I got you.”
Unable to hold them in any longer, Choyce’s tears began to fall. His body weakened, but Mercy held him up. He was safe there—with his brother—there was no denying that. While Mercy rocked him from side to side, Choyce released the pain and anger he’d been holding in for hours. Every time Mercy assured him that he would be okay, Choyce cried harder. Becoming a man took away the only woman he’d ever loved outside of his sister. His heart began to beat slower and slower at that recollection as it ached.
