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Makai’s hand dropped. Visibly relieved, I expanded my arms to bring him into a hug. He rejected me. It was his hand that pulled me closer as he stared daggers into me.
“You won’t be able to save that nigga every time, Mommas.”
“It’s you I’m trying to save,” I admitted.
Still gazing at me, Makai licked the tears from the right side of my face.
“You can cry your pretty little heart out. That nigga gots to go.”
I followed Makai out of the waiting area, down the hallway, and outside to his car as if I didn’t own a single cell in my brain. My soul was leading me. My brain had no jurisdiction over my body when it spoke to me. My heart, head, and limbs belonged solely to it.
“We can get your shit later. Your whip, too.”
He helped me into his truck. Sharp pains shot through my arm and neck with each move I made. The assistance wasn’t necessary but it was appreciated.
“You good?” Makai asked as he settled in.
“Yes.”
“Fix your face, then, Mommas. You’re ripping me to pieces.”
“Sorry,” I apologized, feeling the weight of my world collapsing around me.
“Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault. Hoe niggas gon’ do hoe shit.”
“I’m ju… I’m worried about Shelly.”
“Shelly gon’ be aight.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She’ll be aight and back on nights right with you.”
“Right,” I whispered, still slightly unsure of her future.
She was unable to move her arm and couldn’t stand on her own. Something was certainly broken. We’d need her scanned to find out what.
“Here, lay back and rest your mind. Relax.”
“Okay.”
I waited as Makai reached over and reclined the passenger seat. When it was time for him to return to his side of the vehicle, I wasn’t ready. I grabbed hold of his hand, intertwining our fingers. With him in my possession, my body began to regulate itself. I closed my eyes and prayed for any amount of sleep. Even a few minutes would be all right with me.
TWELVE
Leaning against the hood of my truck, I waited for the doors of county to open. Parking across the street seemed too far for comfort, but it was the only option. In hindsight, it was the only path for prisoners to exit.
“Sometimes I wonder if it was you that inherited her—”
“Don’t wonder no more, nigga,” I advised. “It’s me.”
“Makes me feel better about some of the shit you say and do.”
“I don’t need you feeling better about my choices, bro. They’re mine.”
“Yet, they affect everyone.”
I agreed with a head nod. He was right. There was hardly a time when Mercer opened his mouth and he wasn’t. His wisdom, along with Malachi’s, had been inherited from our father.
