Chapter Nineteen: Lights Out
Chapter 19
Lights Out
“I’m outta here,” Nicola said after midnight as he walked out of the precinct. His aching, bloody body was minor compared the anger that he carried in his heart. With all that had happened in the last eighteen hours. He still could not manage to accept that Brooks was dead.
Pulling himself into his truck, he closed the door and laid his head on his steering wheel. He wanted to cry, to let out loud moans of a man robbed of his truest brother. But his body and his mind would not allow him. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t release. He had watched Brooks’ entire family fall apart only hours before. Trina nearly died in the waiting room of the hospital. Ivy was at her aid, still beautiful but so distant. She looked over at him, tried to approach him, but at that moment, he wanted her to be farther away that she was.
He left the hospital and all of its visitors and went back to the precinct, where he worked for hours on a plan to recover Caesar. The DA, the FBI, the MPD…they all wanted him alive. But Nicola wanted him dead.
When he arrived at home, he looked at his watch and sighed. Everything in life looked so different suddenly. He held on to the steering wheel gripping it tightly, replaying back the day’s events and grinding his teeth together. Minutes had passed before he realized that he should get out of his truck and go inside. He did so slowly.
He walked without observing his surroundings as usual. He didn’t care what was in place or what was out of place. He didn’t care who had called or who had not called. He wasn’t hungry or thirsty. He felt like Nicola.
With his gun and boots still on he landed in the bed and rolled over to look blankly at the ceiling. His pool below gave a wavy reflection to the room and the darkness and silence of the room engulfed him. Could he cry now, where no one would see? No. Still, he could not let it out.
Then in the darkness of the room, Nicola realized that he was not alone. He heard the breathing of someone. Yes. Someone was there in the same room with him, watching him. He kept his eyes on the ceiling but slowly felt for his side arm.
“Don’t do that,” Caesar said walking out of the shadows.
“Don’t do what?” Nicola asked moving slowly up in the bed.
“You know what. Throw your gun on the floor,” Caesar said waiving his gun at Nicola.
“This is a real bitch move,” Nicola said throwing the gun. “I just want you to know that.”
“Yeah. Sure. I heard about Brooks.” He smacked his lips. “Pity. I would have loved to be there for the show.” His voice was laced with venom. He was a snake in the grass and enjoyed the crawl.
“I would have loved for you to be there to take one with your flunky,” Nicola said feeling the fury overwhelm him.
“I bet that you never thought that you would find me here, right under your nose.”
“Actually, I’m really glad that you saved me the trouble of having to look for your ass.” Nicola saw Caesar outline in the darkness by the window.
“Well, you and I have had our dealings for a while now. I figured that before I left Memphis for good, I’d pay you one last visit.” Caesar gripped his gun.
“The only way that you’re leaving Memphis is in a body bag.”
“This is coming from a mother fucker that’s about to die in his own bed,” Caesar said cocking his gun to shoot.
The adrenaline rushed madly through his veins as Nicola rolled off of the bed quickly and pulled his firearm. He heard the shots whizz past his head. It was the same silent and deadly wind that had passed him only hours earlier. He returned fire aiming directly at Caesar, but missed by only inches because of the black darkness of the room. He was about to shoot again, but realized that he was out of bullets. In a fit, he launched across the bed at Caesar and they both fell into the window cracking it. The glass cut both of them and they fell to the ground disoriented. Nicola looked down and realized that the gun was on the floor across the room.
In a full rage, he screamed and gripped Caesar’s neck tightly with one hand and hammered a staggering punch to his stomach with the other. Caesar tried to punch Nicola in the ribs, but could feel the air being cut off from his body. He finally kicked Nicola in the groin causing him to roll over for a moment. Caesar eyed the gun and tried to get to it, but Nicola was on his feet and kicked Caesar in the face with this steel-toe boot. Blood sprayed across his room white room as he made contact and felt Caesar’s jaw crumble. Nicola breathed heavily as he pulled Caesar up.
“You want to come into my fucking house and disrespect me, you piece of shit! You had better be prepared to pay.” Nicola spit blood, balled his fist up and punched him again.
Caesar wasn’t new to fighting. He would hold Nicola off until he could get to the gun and then he would end it all. But every time that he got close to the gun, Nicola punched him again, sending him across the room with a bloody mouth and swollen eyes.
Caesar gave his best and charged Nicola. They fell into the entertainment complex one last time, sending the plasma television to the ground. Stumbling on top of it, hearing it crumble under their feet they struggled. Nicola was on top of him punching his face in past the point of recognition when Caesar finally pulled the gun from beside the bed and aimed it at Nicola.
When Nicola saw the gun, he reached over towards the entryway of the bedroom grabbed the other gun and emptied it into Caesar. He was still pulling the trigger long after he had emptied the last of the bullets into the Caesar’s body. Caesar had grabbed the wrong gun. And Nicola had gotten lucky. He stood up breathing hard, trying to squint past a migraine and reached for the phone and dialed 911. In a fit of rage still, he stood over the dead body feeling completely empty. Brooks was still gone and they had no leads on the distributor.
“It was all a fucking waste,” he said looking into Caesar’s lifeless eyes.
Chapter Twenty: Goodbye
Chapter 20
GOODBYE
Lieutenant K.C. Brooks was made an instant Memphis legend in less than a week. Every television station in town had done a huge story on him by the time the funeral came around. Radio stations focused entire shows around the newly established Narc/Tact unit but had reached out unsuccessfully for Nicola to come on to their shows. Mayor Henderson used the spotlight daily to talk about Operation Checkbook, and Grey used his father’s reputation for his upcoming campaign.
The entire Memphis Police Department mourned Brooks’ passing and spoke his name with the highest regard in every home, pub and gym across the town. Money had been raised and sent to his family. Church services had been dedicated to his memory. But nothing soothed to anger and pain of his loss for those closest to him.
Nicola had been missing in action until today. It was time to pay his respects for the last time at the funeral. In full formal dress uniform, he sat in his disheveled living room finishing a bottle of Hennessey at 8:30 in the morning. He tried to get his thoughts together but after a five-day drinking binge from hell, he could barely remember his own name. They had asked him to say a few words, and he agreed, but he would only say a few. Their friendship was too personal to go blabbing on like all the other politicians that had requested a spot on the K.C. Brooks show.
He smiled for a moment, knowing that Brooks would have been impressed at all the attention he was getting. He was going out in a style fit for a Psi man. He downed the rest of the potent contents in his liquor bottle and grabbed his car keys.
**
Ivy helped Trina dress. To no one’s surprise, her weak body was still drained from the long days of crying. This had been a long and dreadful week, but Ivy and Emerald had helped Trina through it. Ivy spent all of her days with her friend. Emerald had stayed up every night with Trina while Ivy slept talking to her, reading to her and allowing her to work through her feelings. He’d practically moved into help Ivy tend to her best friend and drug Kakeline along whenever she was willing. Somehow, Ivy knew that today would bring some closure to Brooks’ sudde
n death, and Trina would be left to finally begin to heal.
Putting on a black silk dress, Trina stared in the mirror blankly. Her eyes had dark rings under them and her voice was quiet and somber. Ivy kissed Trina on the shoulder and held her arms.
“I love you, sis,” Ivy said wiping a tear from her cheek.
“I love you, too,” Trina said touching Ivy’s hand. “Thank you for everything.”
“Hey, you’ve been here for me. Now, it’s time to be here for you.”
“I just can’t believe that he’s gone,” Trina said feeling the tears welling up in the sides of her eyes again.
**
Grey had gone over his father’s speech for the funeral twice that morning and decided that it was now perfect. Taking a moment to sip his coffee, he sat on the marble countertop of his father’s kitchen and watched his mother prepare their breakfast.
“Did you know Brooks?” Grey’s mother asked pouring their orange juice.
“Barely. He was Ivy’s friend.” He sighed. “It’s still sad though.”
“For more reason than one,” Mayor Henderson said walking into the room fully dressed with a folded newspaper. “I’ve got to find a replacement for that taskforce and try to keep Agosto here in Memphis. After all that has happened, I’m not sure that he’ll stay.”
“And I’m not sure that’s a bad thing,” Grey said under his voice. “Well, this puts the entire city’s focus on your new unit.” He said trying to see a bright side or just be a jerk. Even he could not decide. “At least they can’t say that you aren’t trying.”
“Careful with the sarcasm, child of mine,” Mayor Henderson said raising his brow. “For now, regardless of what has been done in the past, this man is one of the city’s lost sons. We are going to behave as though nothing else matters. Today, there will be no discussion of anything to the media but our desire to reach out the Brooks family. Then tomorrow, we can pick up on our war on drugs.” Sitting down at the kitchen table, he motioned for his wife to sit beside him.
“Well, I am sad, but not for obvious reasons,” Grey said getting down off the countertop to join his family at the dinner table. “I had other plans for Brooks that are now apparently ruined.”
“Enough with your plans…the both of you should just enjoy this breakfast that I’ve cooked for you and discuss politics later.” Mrs. Henderson said bowing her head for grace.
**
Renewed Faith Baptist Church was filled to capacity as Reverend Brooks preached to the congregation about loss, sorrow and his son K.C. Brooks, who laid below in a silver casket dressed in his uniform blues. Evelyn Brooks sat on the front pew with their entire family and Trina as she sobbed softly at the loss of her son. Nicola sat on the pew directly behind her in a drunken haze dreading the words that he had been commissioned to speak in just a few moments. It seemed that the entire Memphis political machine had been packed into the first few rows behind Nicola, and Mayor Henderson sat in the pulpit beside Deacon Jenkins nodding at every few words that the reverend spoke.
Ivy sat on the pew behind Nicola with the Henderson family, a host of political figures, members from Brooks’ fraternity and his Masonic lodge members. Grey’s arm was wrapped tightly around her serving as an invisible protective shield. She had wanted several times to reach out to Nicola, who was in arms length, but she was afraid of what the repercussions it would have on Grey and his political aspirations considering every media source in town was present and silently buzzing over Ivy’s bulging stomach.
As Reverend Brooks concluded, the choir stood to sing, and Nicola made his way to the pulpit to speak about the good side of K.C. Brooks. Ivy followed him with her teary eyes as he made his way hesitantly to shake Reverend Brooks’ hand.
“Hello,” Nicola said feeling a great nervousness attack him as he looked out at the hundreds of people listening and staring attentively at him. He cleared his voice. “My name is Nicola Agosto and I’m the Lieutenant and leading officer over the Narc/Tact Unit. I’m supposed to say some great things about my best friend and my colleague K.C. Brooks. I’m supposed to tell you what a great guy he was and…how courageous he was.” Nicola voice faded as he looked over at Reverend Brooks who sat curiously listening.
“But I feel like maybe before I speak about what he was…maybe I should speak about what he still is.” Nicola wiped a tear from his face. “Brooks is still a reminder to me of the passionate people we need in our community. He is still a constant voice in my head that leads me to want to do the right thing.” His voice cracked. “He is still a symbol for the men of the Memphis Police Narc/Tact Unit…” Nicola looked out among the crowd. “As for what he was not…he was not a quitter. He would rather give his life, risk his life, than give up or stand down.” His eyes began to water, but he fought them back again. “He gave his all to his job, to his family, to his fiancée Trina, who misses him probably as much as his wonderful mother does. We’re all left a little less than ourselves without our friend, our brother, our son. But if we are to remember his memory properly, we must continue to fight injustice and…” Nicola looked over at Ivy. “To not give up when it is most convenient or the easy way out. K.C. Brooks was a man’s man. My right hand…and for a guy like me with little else outside of his friends…a rock. And I’ll miss him.”
Tears welled in the side of Ivy’s eyes as she looked up at Nicola. Was he not going to give up her? Was he going to ask for her? Closing her eyes, she wiped her cheeks and sighed. Making eye contact with him as he sat down, she mouthed hello. Too upset and hung-over to say anything, he looked at Grey once and sat down without acknowledging Ivy. Sinking back down in the seat, Ivy rubbed her stomach and looked at Grey. What was that? What was going on? What about the speech? Maybe the speech was about Trina? Maybe, Nicola had given up on her?
**
After the funeral, Nicola sat in the den of Brooks’ mother’s mid-town home sipping on a small glass of water and listening to the other policemen that surrounded him holding various conversations about Brooks’ endless valor and unmatched dedication to the force. It amazed him now how everyone had only wonderful things to say about Brooks now that he was dead.
When he was alive, Brooks was respected but not nearly as loved as others had made him out to be that morning. Maybe this was an idea of what it would be like when he passed. People would spend a week celebrating his death and then the next week, he would be forgotten. Some new drug dealer would take over the old guy’s corner. Some new cop would be assigned. And the world would continue to turn. Dazed and numb from drinking for days, he looked into the television blankly tapping on the armrest.
Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Nicola looked up to see Trina. He stood up and offered her a seat, but she declined.
“I’m cool, Nicola,” she said sitting across from him the black leather sectional.
“How are you?” Nicola instantly noticed her puffy red eyes. He only wished that he could have done something to help her through all that she was going through. Regardless of what Brooks had done on the side, he felt as though his friend loved Trina dearly. He just didn’t know how to show it.
“I could be better,” Trina smiled at an officer who raised his cup at her from across the room. “But, I’m more worried about you. You…look like shit,” she said under her breath.
“Thanks,” Nicola said smiling. “I try.”
Trina took Nicola’s hand in hers and held it tightly. “Whatever happened has happened, and there is no going back. It is not your fault that he got killed, and it is not your place to mourn him ‘til it kills you. Plus, you got Caesar. I’m sure that Brooks would have wanted that most.” Holding up his chin, she looked at his discolored face. “I bet you haven’t had a decent meal since Brooks hit the ground.”
“Not a bite.” Nicola stared down at the ground ashamed of the way he looked.
“You can’t continue to do this to yourself, you know.” Trina sighed.
“I’m on leave now, since we finally broke one
of Caesar’s captains for the information we needed…it’s Director’s orders. I’m on a flight back home to Miami first thing in the morning. I figured seeing my family would do me some good.” Nicola’s stomach growled.
“Well, what about Ivy? Have you talked to her?” Trina already knew that he had not, but she wanted to make a point of reminding him to do so.
“In the state that I’ve been in, it’s a good thing that I haven’t. She probably wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me.” Nicola cleared his voice.
“Well, she’s been worried sick.” Trina stood up as Brooks’ mother walked into the room. “I’m going to talk to Mrs. Brooks. You just make sure that you call her before you get on that plane.”
“I will. And, I’ll leave my number so that if you need anything…” Nicola said trying to think of Trina. God only knew the way that she must be feeling.
“Yeah, thanks” Trina said rubbing his hand.
Watching as Trina walked away, some of Nicola’s bitterness disappeared. He admired how strong she seemed to be and how devoted she was to Ivy even in her crisis. However, he was a different story. He had proven to be weak and breakable in a time that his family and friends needed him most. He had neglected the living for dead and seemed to be digging his own early grave. He ran his fingers through his oily, unwashed hair and straightened his suit as he made his way out of the den to the restroom.
Waiting for the restroom door to open, he sat on stoop in the hallway, looking at the portraits of Brooks and his sisters that decorated the wall. They were all perfectly aligned in golden frames and served as a backdrop to a dusty rose-colored paint that matched the rose-colored carpet and white boarders and trim. It almost reminded him of something he had seen as a child in his cousin’s dollhouse.
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