Adored by a Brooklyn Drug Lord 2

by Tya Marie

  “Quill? Is something wrong?” she asked between yawns.

  “You don’t have to say anything. I just need someone to listen to me,” I said, slipping out onto the balcony to keep from waking Legacy. “I made you my medical proxy because if there was one person in this world I could count on to do right by me, it would be you. You’ve never taken from me, you’ve always had my back, and you're the only constant in my life. I'm surrounded by fucking snakes, man. Down to my own blood. It’s been eating at me, and tonight I got the worst news. Niggas don’t fuck with me; I'm a means to an end. When they're done with me, they’ll kill me. All of them. The real reason I also made you my proxy was so when that moment came, you would be able to say goodbye. I know you hate me, but you also love me, and I don’t want anyone taking away our last moments.”

  The line was dead silent. I thought Kelsey had fallen back asleep, or put the phone down, when I heard her breathe into the phone. “William, what's wrong?”

  “Everything,” I admitted for the first time out loud. “I'm in some shit I can't fix. The only way out is death. I just wanted you to know, before it’s all over, I love you, Kelsey Mackenzie. I'm sorry I couldn’t be the man you deserve.”

  I hung up the phone before I could hear her reply. Five seconds later it was buzzing again, the screen lighting up with her number saved under my little sister’s name. Another reminder that I couldn’t be with her the way I wanted to without hiding it from the world. I sent it to voicemail and headed back inside. The hotel room door opened, Drea's off-key singing entering the suite before her. Kelsey called me again. I placed my phone on Do Not Disturb this time, not wanting Drea to jump to conclusions if she saw missed calls on my screen. The sound of plates dropping in the other room rousted Legacy from his slumber. I popped his pacifier back into his mouth before he could start whining, and went to see what Drea was doing. I found her sprawled across the living room couch trying to open a bottle of champagne, her cellphone cradled between her ear and shoulder.

  “Why the fuck these people ain't answering my calls,” she slurred as she fought with the cork. “Room service! Room service!”

  “You need to use the hotel phone for that,” I said from over her, staring down at her in disgust. “It’s four o’clock in the morning and our flight is for seven. Drea, stop messing around with the liquor and get some fucking rest.”

  Drea sucked her teeth. “Excuse me? Last I fucking checked, Amos Winthrop is across town so there ain't no way in hell you're my father. Watch how you talk to me, Quill; we in my town.”

  “I’ll tell you to get your shit together right in front of your father’s face. You wanted to go out with your friends? Fine. You get drunk and have a good time? Cool.”

  “I also made sure to get me some real good dick too,” she interjected, sticking her tongue out and licking the top of the champagne bottle.

  “And I can give less than a fuck about what you do out there, but once you come up in here you need to come correct. Now give me the bottle, your phone, and get some fucking sleep!” I hissed, my tone growing menacing.

  The smile on Drea's face dropped, transforming to a snarl of contempt. She cradled the bottle to her chest. “You want it, come and get it.”

  “Drea…”

  “Come and take the bottle from me, Quill.”

  I backed off with my hands in the air. “You know what? Do what the fuck you want. I couldn’t care less…”

  “That’s what the fuck I thought,” Drea mumbled under her breath, popping the cork off. Champagne spurted from the bottle, and Drea placed her mouth over the top of it, chugging long enough for the overflow to subside. “I can't fucking wait until—” She stopped herself, taking another chug of champagne.

  “What? Go ahead and say it,” I pressed, crouching low, begging her to look me in the eye. “You can't wait until I'm dead. Take a fucking ticket or put the bullet in me. I’ll see you in the morning…”

  I climbed into bed seething. Drea ignored me the same way anyone almost caught in a lie would. Her reason for seeking me out was one based on a chess game my brother had put together. Bull set me up to be the father to his child he was too lazy to be, or too afraid of the ramifications that came with impregnating Drea Winthrop. Being lovesick for him, Drea was down with the plan, and still was judging by the way she came back smelling like his cologne. The only reason I was still alive was because the business in New York was too fresh; they didn’t know the market. It benefitted them to have me build everything, build their legacy with dirt on my hands and blood on my conscience, and when I was finished…pop. I had to prolong the completion of this project. There was only one way that came to mind. I would risk everything I had, including my freedom, but it would be worth it to end my enslavement.

  10

  Kelsey

  “I don’t think you played with toys as a child,” I spoke to Quill’s voicemail. “No, no one who owned even a stuffed animal would treat me like this. Playing with my emotions, tugging me up and down like a goddamn yoyo. I'm in the middle of living my life and you force me into yours, and I don’t think it’s because you wanted me to say goodbye; I think you get this sick pleasure from making me go crazy over you. It is the only way that reentering my life with enough baggage to fill a 737 Boeing makes sense. Then you call me, wake me from one of the few good night’s sleep I've had in a long time, to bare your soul, and for a minute you had me. And then you hang up. I'm calling you back and there's no answer. I'm not surprised.”

  I wiped at the tears falling from my eyes, taking quick breaths to keep from breaking down over the phone. I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that after all this time, he still had that effect on me.

  “Quill, I'm not a toy. You can't thrust yourself into my life at your leisure and leave me to patch up the scars you leave me with. I refuse to continue doing this with you. Don’t bother calling this number back—I'm changing it. I should've changed it after I got home from the hospital,” I thought out loud. “Have a nice life, Quill. Leave me the fuck out of it.”

  I ended the call, tossing my phone to the foot of my bed and curling up into a ball underneath my covers. Everything about last night was perfect, including my family getting together without fighting or arguing. Normani and my father were doing good. Briana kept her cool, leaving whatever distrust she had for the family at the door. I felt like my life was making progress, that moving home was the right way to go, and here comes Quill. My mind was reeling from our conversation, spinning rapidly out of control, and inadvertently putting me to sleep. I woke up the next morning with a banging headache. I slunk downstairs to the kitchen where Normani was cooking up lunch.

  “I told you to scale back on the champagne, but no, you said you could handle it. Lift that napkin up,” Normani said, motioning to the paper towel covering a mug. “Drink the entire thing, don’t stop.”

  Inside the oversized mug was miso soup, beside it some fresh baked bread. I devoured both, chugging the bowl of soup and scarfing down both slices of bread in a little under five minutes. Normani watched with wide eyes, her expression growing more worried as she sat across from me. I ran my last bite of bread along the inside of the bowl, popping it into my mouth. We sat in silence, with Normani staring at me as I looked anywhere except at her. My eyes grew tired after some time, forcing me to shut them.

  “Kelsey, this isn't a hangover, is it?” Normani asked after another ten minutes of silence.

  I shook my head, opening my eyes with each pivot. “No.”

  “You don’t have to talk to me, but you need to talk to someone.”

  Resting my face on my hands, I let out a raspberry. “Normani, how much pain does a man have to cause before you decide enough is enough?”

  “Is this about Morris? Honey, I saw the news. You didn’t need a man like that in your life,” Normani soothed, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  I shook my head. “I'm not talking about Morris. Can you an
swer my question, please?”

  “Okay,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “With your father, it was him leaving me at the hospital for Shahily. I never wanted to be second to any woman in my man’s life. I don’t think it’s something you should aspire to be either.”

  “You know what? You're absolutely right. I'm done with him. Who does he think he is calling me to make vague confessions and playing with my emotions…” I could see her waiting for me to elaborate. “Quill. He called me in the middle of the night on some other type of shit. I'm tired of him jerking me around, playing with my emotions…”

  Normani let out a sigh. “Your father gave me the rundown on his situation. I think in the case of Quill, it might benefit you to be there for him, in a friendship capacity. When I came up here I had no one: Nicole hated me, my parents were in debt because of me, and I felt lost. Your grandmother was the person to help me get on my feet. She gave me a job, confidence, everything a young kid who made a big mistake needs after selling their soul to the game.”

  “I can barely keep my own life in check. You're telling me to take on Quill’s too?” I scoffed. “I'm good on that. Tell me: would you have dealt with my father’s issues while handling your own?”

  “I did. I risked my life, my freedom, and everything I had to get him out of prison. I personally went with him to Colombia to make sure he got you back safe and sound,” Normani reminded me, her gentle words worse than if she had yelled at me. “You want to know why I did it? Because he saved my life. Twice.”

  This was news to me. “I had no idea.”

  “You shouldn’t have; it’s in the past. I'm not telling you to take Quill back, pick up where you left off, none of that. I'm saying that he has done more for you behind the scenes than you're aware of, and if every once in a while you listen to the shit he's going through, it’s a small price to pay for that kind of loyalty. Because from where I'm sitting, you're the one taking more than you're willing to give.”

  I jumped as if she had slapped me in the face. “Me? What more do I have to give, Normani? I have given up my sleep, my innocence, my sanity, should I start giving up my body parts too? Quill's due to be shot again soon; maybe I should give him one of my lungs because his has far too many holes, or I can offer a piece of my liver, a kidney, or maybe what's left of my heart after he broke it!”

  My chest was heaving, my body shaking, and the room had grown twenty degrees hotter. I leapt off the stool, darting out of the kitchen, starting for my bedroom. The fifth stair was where my legs gave out, dropping me to my knees. I tried to climb to the top and was stopped by my arms turning to Jell-O. A brown paper bag was placed in front of my face, ready for use. Normani sat beside me, rubbing my back as I breathed into the paper bag, using the same pattern to breathe. Five minutes later, I could breathe without the bag and ten I was back in bed.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Normani said, tucking my blanket up to my chin, her eyes brimming with concern. “Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

  A buzzing noise cut me off. Normani reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone and glancing at the screen. “Trish…I’ll give her a call back in a few. Like I was saying—what? Gladys? Lemme just send that to voicemail. Kelsey I want you to—okay Nicole is calling me. Let me answer this call, Kelsey.”

  Normani stepped over to my window, her phone clutched to her ear. The start of the conversation was calm, with Normani explaining where she was. I made the mistake of blinking and missing her drop to her knees, her hand covering her mouth. Her phone slipped from her hand, plopping right beside her. I scrambled out of bed, grabbing the phone to speak to Nicole, who was screaming Normani's name.

  “Kelsey.” Her tone went from frantic to relieved. “Your father and Koi were having a heated discussion and in the midst of their arguing, Urban pulled out a gun. No one’s sure what happened in between, but shots were fired. Koi was hit along with Urban's secretary.”

  “No. Daddy wouldn’t—”

  “Honey, we both know he wouldn’t, but the police don’t. He was arrested and he's waiting to be arraigned. His lawyer is on his way to the precinct, but I need you to bring Normani to Weill Cornell. Trish is here waiting. Your grandmother is on her way.”

  Nicole hung up without another word. I shoved Normani's phone into my pajama pants pocket and took her into my arms, rubbing hers as I rousted her from the trance she was in. It took ten minutes, some assurance, and the promise of calling Daddy’s lawyer the second we got to the hospital, but I managed to get Normani off the floor and into the car. Thinking some music would cheer Normani up, I turned on the radio, which happened to be on the news channel and reporting the shooting of Koi.

  “Sorry,” I apologized, stabbing at the buttons until the car was silent. “I had no idea we were so newsworthy.”

  “They're going to find out about his condition,” Normani said, her eyes finding mine through the rearview mirror. “Do you know what this means?”

  “He's a prominent businessman; if people find out about his condition it will ease the blow this could have on his reputation. I don’t see anything wrong with us getting in front of this,” I rationalized, my attention on the road instead of Normani, who was shaking her head.

  She sat up a bit higher in his seat. “Do you know what this means for his other business?”

  Silence.

  “They're going to place a target on his back. Push him out. Tell him he's too sick to be in charge. Urban has put his entire life into building what he has and one mistake is going to snatch it all away.”

  I took her hand into mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I won't let them.”

  News reporters had converged on the emergency room entrance of Weill Cornell Hospital, their cameras trained on the door as they waited for an update from a member of our family. I darted down the road, circling the block, looking for a more covert way in. There wasn’t one. We were going to have to walk through all of those cameras, upsetting Normani more than she already was. I called Nicole to tell her of our situation, and she agreed to meet us out front. She stood on the corner dressed in all black, her hands in her pockets with two men flanking her. They rushed to us at the same time the reporters caught sight of us. Nicole took point, shoving through the reporters, shouting “no comment” as the men protected us from the microphones being shoved in our faces. The walk was ten, maybe twenty feet, but felt like a mile. Normani was shaking with anger when we finally stepped inside. Her mother gave her a hug, her hands rubbing her shoulders, landing on her cheeks.

  “I don’t want you wearing yourself out. I have this under control, do you hear me?” Normani nodded. “Good, now come on. Koi's awake.”

  Everyone in the emergency room ward was silent, from the nurses to the patients. They could've been mannequins with the way they were standing about, unsure of what to say or do next. I was going to ask Nicole what the problem was, and was cut off by it—shouting voices coming from the last berth.

  “I'm not staying in the fucking hospital!” Koi barked at the concerned doctors surrounding him. He pointed to his shoulder, which was patched up and steadily bleeding through. Trish stood beside him, her jaw set as she shook her head. “It was a simple through and through. I don’t need surgery. All I want is for you to patch it up and I'm out of here.”

  “Mr. Mackenzie, while your injuries are not life threatening, we still want to observe you for a few more hours,” an older female doctor said, her calm tone coming off as condescending to an irate Koi.

  Koi moved to get off the bed, knocking off one of the leads on his chest, causing an uproar from the medical staff. Trish placed a firm hand on Koi's stomach, pressing him back into his bed. She shot him a warning look that calmed him down.

  “You are of no use to anyone in here,” Trish said, blinking rapidly to keep the tears pooling in her eyes from falling. “I don’t want our son seeing you like this. Stay in the hospital and let Nicole handle everything.”

&n
bsp; “There are some things above her paygrade,” Koi countered.

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “As of right now, a lot of things are above our paygrades. Calm the fuck down, stop making so much noise, and let the damn doctors treat you.”

  “No. I need to get out of here and make sure my cousin is good—”

  Trish punched the metal bar of the bed. “Koi Mackenzie, I have been very patient with you. I know you love your job, and you love your cousin even more, but I need you to think about your son sitting at home who will be looking for his papa. Sit back, take a nap, read a book, I don’t care, but you are not leaving this hospital until they are positive that you aren’t suffering from any internal bleeding.”

  Koi did as he was told. The assembly of doctors dispersed except for Koi's attending, who shot Trish a look of gratitude before following her colleagues. She returned it with a curt nod, and went back to taking care of Koi. Normani broke down, startling everyone in the vicinity. Trish hurried over, ushering Normani down the hall to the bathroom, leaving Koi, Nicole, and me alone. Nicole drew the privacy curtain around us, stopping at a short sliver giving us a view of the nurses station. I approached Koi's bed, taking a seat at the edge of it. He ran his thumb over my jawline, smiling at me with nostalgia in his eyes.

  “Kelsey, you have grown up to be a beautiful young woman.”

  “Koi—” Nicole hissed.

  “One of the smartest, kindest, and courageous individuals I have ever had the grace to grow with,” Koi continued, ignoring Nicole's pleas for him to stop talking. “Your father needs you right now, more than ever.”

  “She's not ready,” Nicole whispered, coming around to the other side of the bed. “They will eat her alive in that boardroom. You're setting her up for failure.”