by Ashley
Mecca nodded and replied, “Money was always the winner. He was a lucky man.”
“You were too, Mecca. You just didn’t appreciate me like you should have,” Leena admitted. The crowded, public place put her at ease around Mecca. She had snuck out while Estes was out playing golf, but she didn’t dare meet Mecca in private. She chose a place where there would be too many witnesses for Mecca to try anything stupid.
“I appreciate you now,” Mecca replied. “I’m tired of living recklessly, Lee. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past, but I need your help to make my future better. I have no right to ask you this, but you’re the only person who can make me better. I don’t want this life no more, ma.”
Leena hated the fact that her heart raced around Mecca, but she could not stop it.
Just as she was about to respond, Mecca’s phone rang loudly. He answered it.
“Yo, Mecca, you need to come to my place right away. It’s important,” Carter stated.
“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Mecca protested.
“It can wait,” Carter insisted before hanging up the phone.
Mecca sighed as he turned back toward Leena. “I have to go, but I want to finish this discussion. Can we meet again?” he asked.
Against her better judgment, Leena nodded. “Yeah, Mecca. I’ll meet you whenever you call.”
It was a small step, but Mecca was grateful because it meant that it was possible for him to close the gap between them.
When Zyir saw Breeze lying in the bed, his knees almost gave out. The dark circles around her eyes, the track marks on her arms, and the bruises and cuts on her body made him cringe as if he could feel her pain. He sat in the chair next to her bed as Carter stood near the doorway.
“They doped her up,” Zyir whispered, grief stricken as he grabbed her limp hand and held onto it gently. He kissed it and noticed that she was ice cold. She was in such bad condition that he almost didn’t believe she was alive, but the rise and fall of her chest, along with the weak pulse he felt, told him otherwise. “What did they do to you, B? I’m sorry,” he whispered.
He felt her stir slightly in her sleep as she began to come to. Her eyes opened, and she began to panic at the sight of the unfamiliar setting. She sat up in bed and put her back against the wall as she prepared to defend herself, but when her eyes met Zyir’s, a sense of safety fell over her.
“You’re not real,” she uttered.
“I’m real, ma,” he assured her as he reached out to touch her cheek.
She looked around in bewilderment. “I’m home?” she asked. “This is real?”
“Yeah, you’re home, Breeze. You’re safe now,” Zyir stated. Breeze fell into his embrace as she wept heavily on his shoulder.
“I should have been there,” Zyir said.
Breeze was too hysterical to respond. She choked on her own tears as Zyir held her tightly. Words would only complicate the situation, because neither of them could express how they were feeling.
It was the first time in his adult life that Zyir had allowed himself to cry. The love of a woman had made him whole again. Just seeing her face uplifted him. “I’m not letting you go, ma… ever. You hear me?” he stated as he held onto her tightly. “Tell me you trust me, ma. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeated over and over again.
“I trust you, Zyir,” she whispered, absorbing his presence. She sucked it all in, because she was sure that at any moment she would wake up and it would all be a dream.
Mecca knocked on Carter’s door, and when he saw his brother’s face, he immediately became concerned.
“What happened? What’s so urgent?” he asked.
“I found Breeze,” Carter revealed. Mecca’s eyes opened wide with hope as he raced past Carter and went from room to room until he finally located her in the spare bedroom. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her weeping passionately in Zyir’s arms. He noticed her track-ridden arms immediately and winced in internal pain.
“Breeze,” he called out to her, causing her to look up.
“Mecca!” she yelled as she jumped up and leaped into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his entire midsection as if she were still a little girl. He rubbed her hair and rocked her back and forth. He held onto his sister so tightly that she could not breathe, but she did not protest.
This feeling of familiarity, of safety, felt too good to Breeze. She had been deprived of her family for too long, and now she was back. It was too much for her to handle as she sobbed into Mecca’s shoulder.
“Shh, it’s okay now, B,” he whispered as he held back his own tears. His efforts to stay strong failed him as tears began to fall from his eyes. “I’m going to kill a nigga. Everybody who ever hurt you, Breeze, I promise,” he pledged as he felt her heart beating through her chest. “I thought you were gone, Breeze. I thought you were lost forever.”
“They hurt me, Mecca. Over and over again,” she cried.
“They’re dead, B. Don’t even think about that,” Mecca said soothingly. He wiped his eyes as he held onto her. She was so weak that he had to be her strength. There was no room for him to be fragile. Breeze needed him, and as he caressed her hair soothingly, he gritted his teeth from the very thought of the abuse she had suffered. He had never been as gentle with anyone as he was with his baby sister at that moment. The Diamond family had kept her the most sheltered. She was their world.
The excitement of being home overwhelmed her, and her stomach began to boil as she realized how long it had been since her last fix. A full twenty-four hours had gone by, and to an addicted Breeze, that felt like a lifetime. She was used to being high around the clock.
“I’m going to be sick,” she gurgled as she released Mecca. Zyir grabbed a small trash bin that sat beside the bed and rushed to her side as she threw up. Violent fits of vomit spewed from her mouth as Mecca watched in agony.
He knew that her body was craving heroine. He had been in the streets for too long not to notice the symptoms. Breeze was a dope head. His beautiful baby sister had been turned out, and the dismay he felt was written in agony on his face.
“I got her,” Zyir stated, knowing that Mecca was about to break down any second.
Zyir laid Breeze back down in the bed as Mecca nodded and walked out of the room. It was too much for him to bear to see Breeze in so much distress.
Carter stared callously at Mecca as he entered the living room, and an uncomfortable silence filled the space between the two. He walked over to his wet bar and poured two glasses of cognac. He handed one to Mecca.
Mecca hesitantly took the drink from his brother as he stared at him intently. “Is it safe to drink?” Mecca asked directly.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Carter shot back.
As the two men sat waiting for Zyir to finish his time with Breeze, they did not speak, but the silence spoke louder than any words ever could. This reunion was supposed to be joyous, but there was a great divide between the two brothers that put a thick fog over the mood.
“Fuck it, nigga, let’s get everything out in the open and lay the cards on the table. I know you know I killed your bitch,” Mecca stated bluntly as he put his hand conveniently on his waistline near his.45.
“You gon’ shoot me like you shot Monroe?” Carter countered, unrattled by Mecca. Carter had never been afraid of another nigga a day in his life, and the loose cannon in front of him was no exception. The safety on Carter’s pistol was already off, and by the time Mecca chambered a round he would already be circled in chalk, if he wanted to play it that way. As Carter stared at Mecca, his nostrils flared in anger, but he kept his composure.
“That was a mistake,” Mecca stated.
“I should have killed you. I’ve killed niggas for less than what you’ve done, but you’re my brother, Mecca. I’m not like you. Loyalty is everything to me. If you had been any other nigga, I would have blown your brains out of your fucking head,” Carter stated, enunciating each word so that Mecca understood him clearl
y. He paused as he stared intently at Mecca.
“Then why didn’t you?” Mecca asked as he removed his.45 and placed it on his lap, his finger wrapped around the trigger, just in case. He did not want to have to shoot Carter, but there was malice in the air, and he knew that if he gave Carter the chance to bust first, it was over.
“Because you’re not any other nigga. You are my blood, and having Breeze back has brought some perspective into my life. Family is all there is. Our sister is in that room right now, suffering because of a war you started… because of a lie that you told. We are the last three standing, and because of that, I cannot kill you. My sister… our sister loves you and she needs you. It is because of her and because of her only that I am willing to leave the past in the past.”
“Everybody wanna label Mecca the bad guy,” Mecca stated as he hit his chest and put his gun away. “You think this family isn’t everything to me?” he asked. “I was out of my mind when I shot Money. I never meant for him to die, but you can’t point fingers, Carter, because if family was so important to you, then you would have watched the company you kept.”
“I’m not in the mood to decipher riddles. If you got something to say, just say it,” Carter replied.
“That bitch Miamor! Open your eyes! She was just like me. She poisoned my mother, and her fucking Murder Mamas tried to kill me.”
“Don’t put falsehoods on a ghost, Mecca. As a matter of fact, don’t even speak her name,” Carter stated harshly. It was too soon for Mecca to even try to justify his actions. Thinking of Miamor was like pouring alcohol on an open wound for Carter. It was excruciating.
“See, that’s the shit I’m talking about! The truth has been in front of your face the entire time. You don’t want to see it! You were fucking the enemy, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you were just a mark to her all along. The bitch was a killer-a damned good one, too,” Mecca stated with an ironic chuckle. “I did what you would have never been able to do! I protected this family, no matter the cost, so you can blame me all you want, but let me ask you this question: If I didn’t kill her, who would she have killed next?”
Zyir came into the room and cleared his throat, interrupting the heated conversation. “She needs to be checked out by a doctor,” Zyir said.
“I have a private physician coming here first thing in the morning,” Carter informed. “She’s out there bad. It’s going to take a while for her to readjust and get the drugs out of her system. They were feeding her heroin three times a day, every day, in Mexico. We will all have to keep a very close watch over her.”
“She’s not staying here,” Mecca spoke up. There was no way he was going to let anything happen to Breeze again. Anyplace where Miamor used to rest her head was not safe enough for his little sister. “She’ll be safer at my place.”
“She’s not staying with you,” Carter said with authority. There was no way he was entrusting her life to Mecca. “We both know what you’re capable of.”
“Fuck is that supposed to mean?” Mecca shouted defensively He didn’t appreciate the subtle jabs that Carter was taking at him. There was no way he would ever bring harm to Breeze.
“Means what it means, Mecca. She’s not staying with you,” Carter countered.
Just as an argument was about to break out, Zyir interjected. “She’ll stay with me.” The tone of his voice left no room for argument. Both Mecca and Carter respected Zyir. It was the best place for Breeze to recuperate safely.
Mecca grabbed his jacket and brushed past Carter as he headed for the door. “I’ll be by to see Breeze tomorrow, Zyir. Keep her safe,” he said sincerely.
Zyir nodded, and Mecca walked out without acknowledging Carter as he slammed the door forcefully behind him.
Zyir looked at Carter curiously. “Fuck was that all about?” he asked.
Carter shook his head as worry lines creased his forehead. He downed the rest of his drink before replying, “He killed Miamor.”
Although Zyir had a million questions to ask, he knew that if Carter wanted him to know details, he would have elaborated. Without hesitation, Zyir answered, “You want me to handle that?”
Carter sighed, wishing that the solution could be so easy. He poured himself another drink. “There’s nothing to handle. He’s my brother. I can’t give that order after everything that this family has been through. Just take care of Breeze, Zy. That’s all I need from you right now. You’re the only person who I can trust at the moment. Everybody else in this fucking city has been wearing a mask all along.”
Chapter Thirteen
“The line between the two is so thin that I go back and forth every day.”
– Leena
Zyir paced anxiously back and forth outside the closed bedroom door as the doctor examined Breeze inside. Worrying over her condition was heart wrenching. He had no idea what she had gone through, and he only hoped that the damage she had suffered could be repaired. The nervousness and gut-bubbling concern that he felt for her was almost unbearable. He felt an overwhelming responsibility to rehabilitate Breeze, to restore her to the beautiful, unscathed young woman she used to be. The love he had for her extended that of girlfriend/boyfriend. He felt obligated to her just as much as he was to himself. It was as if they were one and just by looking into her eyes, he had absorbed all of her pain; he shared it with her and knew that he had to help her heal. Finding her had only been half the battle. The other half was yet to come.
Illiana watched Zyir in silent disgust as she fumed on the inside. All of a sudden this Breeze bitch comes home and he acts like I don’t even exist, she thought irritably. The junkie bitch ain’t even all that. What the hell does he see in her?
She had no idea just how deeply Zyir’s affection ran for Breeze, but seeing him completely absorbed in her was enough to make Illiana green with envy. It was the attention she craved from him. The love she was scheming to get. Rejection was something she had never learned to take, and Breeze being back in the picture only complicated things for her.
“Why don’t you come to bed, Zyir? It’s three o’clock in the morning, papi,” she said as she walked up on him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her blood red painted nails scratched him softly with every caress. Staring into his eyes, it seemed as if he had aged overnight. He was carrying the burdens of a man twice his age, and they were evident in the frown lines that creased his brow.
He shook his head and removed her arms from around him. “Go ahead and get your rest, ma. I’m going to wait to speak with the doctor. I have to find out what happened to her, and I need to make sure she’s okay,” Zyir replied.
Displeased with his lack of attention, Illiana rolled her eyes and sighed angrily as she retreated to Zyir’s bedroom.
Zyir ignored the little show she was putting on. She’s not my chick, just someone to pass the time with. I’ve never given her a reason to think this is anything more than what it is, he justified in his head.
He didn’t want Illiana to become too attached because now that Breeze was back, he knew that one day he was going to have to let Illiana go. He would just have to use tact and be careful with the way he ended things. Illiana was more connected than an interstate highway, and he didn’t want to cross those who she had ties to.
I’ma have to play that situation right. Can’t have a scorned woman fucking up business, Zyir thought.
The doctor finally emerged from his guest bedroom, breaking Zyir from his thoughts.
“Yo, Doc, how is she?” Zyir asked in a low tone. Breeze’s condition wasn’t everyone’s business. He did not want Illiana, or even Breeze herself, to overhear the prognosis.
“After a full physical and vaginal exam, I found that she is in overall good health considering where she was found. A lot of girls coming from her circumstances contract incurable diseases. She is one of the lucky ones. I did find a lot of tearing and bleeding, which leads me to believe that she’s been raped repeatedly for some time now.
“I found antibiotics in her sys
tem. Wherever she was, they kept her clean so that she would not infect their clientele with any sexually transmitted diseases. That alone may have saved her life.
“She has a lot of contusions and bruised bones. I even found a hairline fracture on the back of her skull. Those things will heal with time and a lot of rest. There are high levels of heroin in her system, however. She needs to be admitted to a rehab facility immediately. I can recommend some if you would like,” the doctor said.
The more the man spoke, the more dismayed Zyir became. It seemed that every part of Breeze was scarred. His chest tightened as he thought of the men who had violated her and of the abuse she had been forced to endure; all the while, the people who loved her, himself included, had moved on without her.
As Zyir walked the doctor to the door, he relived the moment that he had slipped up and she had been kidnapped. It had been the worst day of his life. The doctor could see the turmoil on his face.
“Thank you for coming and for all of your help,” Zyir stated as he went into his pocket and handed the doctor a decent-sized knot of crisp hundred dollar bills. “We appreciate your professionalism and discretion.”
The doctor knew that Zyir spoke on behalf of the greatest criminal enterprise in the state of Florida. He nodded his head in acknowledgement, but before he was all the way out the door, he said, “My greatest concern for Breeze is her mental stability. She won’t talk about what she’s seen or been through, which leads me to believe that it is too traumatic to relive. I strongly urge you to watch her closely, twenty-four hours a day if you have to.”
“Suicide watch?” Zyir questioned.
The doctor nodded grimly and replied, “Unfortunately, yes. She is going to need a lot of support. She needs to regain her physical health as well as her mental health. No one but Breeze knows the things that she’s been through, so handle her with extreme care.”