Adored by a Brooklyn Drug Lord 2

by Tya Marie

  I hung my head in shame. “You're right, Mel. I haven’t been here for you the way I should have. If the tables were turned, you wouldn’t have left my side. Don’t think my disappearance is me being on some lazy shit. I've been making moves for the two of us. Koi has been working hard to get my product flowing in the East. Not only that—I'm moving out of Mott Haven.”

  “What?” Jamel exclaimed, sitting up a little higher in bed.

  “Someone tried to kill me. I know it had to be somebody from Goo’s set mad that I'm taking over. Mott Haven is no longer the place for me to rest my head. The moves I'm making are too large to sustain in that small apartment,” I reasoned with a shrug of my shoulders. “You warned me this day would soon come.”

  Jamel asked the question I was dreading. “Bri, where do you plan on moving to? Goo’s territory hasn’t generated enough for you to move too far. Maybe a nice spot in the Stuy, or you could move in with me like I've been telling you to for the longest…” He trailed off at the look I was giving him. “You already have a place, don’t you?”

  “Kelsey offered me a room in her condo—”

  “The same Kelsey who hasn’t given enough of a fuck about you to check on your mental health? Briana—”

  “She's my cousin,” I hissed, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “I know Kelsey and I haven’t been on the best of terms, but she's working on being a better person. We might even be able to get back to where we were.”

  “Before or after you tell her you were behind what happened at the club?” Jamel countered.

  I shook my head. “Why even bring that up…”

  “Because you're trying to fool yourself into believing that you and Kelsey can coexist when deep down on the inside, you don’t want to be her friend. She's the reason why your father is gone. You think if she got into a position of power that she would give you a seat at the table?” Jamel shook his head. “You can go on and do this dumb shit for the time being, but I promise shit is gon’ go left, and when it does, I’ll be the one waiting to pick up the pieces like I always do.”

  “Who said I needed you to?” I shot back. “Yes, you’ve been there for me whenever I need you, but don’t get it twisted, Jamel; I lean on you as a friend not as a crutch. My life was good before I met you and it’ll be fine after.”

  Jamel had the nerve to laugh. “That’s what you think.”

  “That’s what the fuck I know!”

  “Briana, who was the one that got you a meeting with Goo in the first place? Who keeps your team on track while you're out partying and shit? Who was willing to turn on the same nigga that put them on to help you expand to take care of your family? Me!” His words were like a whip, striking me with enough force to sting. “You play catch up with your family one night and all of a sudden you’re too good for me? Fuck you. As toxic as you are, it won't be long before you fuck everything up. ‘Cause that’s all you do. Everything you touch, you destroy. I won't be the next casualty.”

  “Fuck me? Fuck you,” I spat, rising to my feet and taking off before he could see the tears in my eyes.

  I expected this type of emotional abuse from my family; coming from Jamel it hurt worse because I never thought he would become one of those people, the type to play tit-for-tat. I needed to vent, and as of right now, I had no one. With my options slim, I decided to seek the guidance of the one person who would put me in my place if I was wrong. She was in the middle of cooking up a large pot of oxtails in the kitchen of the restaurant. Precious, who was still a little shaken up from Mal's robbery, stood beside her, learning the family recipes. Prince was sitting in the lobby doing his homework, his long, curly hair gliding across his notebook as his head moved between the textbook in front of him and the math problems on the page. My uncle had put him and Precious in this exclusive private school with a course load like the one I had in college. They were cool for that, I guess.

  “Hey, Mommy,” I said, kissing her on the cheek and giving her a little squeeze. “Oxtails on special today?”

  “That’s how we get that weekend money,” Shonda replied, dipping a tasting spoon into the pot, coming up with a tender piece of oxtail. “Tell me what you think?”

  The tiny piece of meat melted in my mouth, coating my tongue in herbs and spices. “Mommy, you’re just looking for your ego to be stroked because you know these oxtails taste slamming. You think we can talk in private?”

  “Yeah…”

  Shonda beckoned for me to follow her to her office, a little room no larger than a walk-in closet. Precious remained in the kitchen, starting on the table of greens my mother delegated for her to work on. I took a seat on the little chair in front of the compact Ikea desk that somehow managed to still take up a bulk majority of the room. Shonda took a seat behind the desk, rummaging through a drawer and coming up with a box of Girl Scout cookies.

  “Samoas,” I drooled, holding my hand out for the box. She offered me a row, which was done in a few bites. “I got into the worst argument with Jamel. He thinks I'm making a big mistake by moving in with Kelsey.”

  Shonda shook her head. “Briana, I told you from the very first day I met that boy that he doesn’t have your best interest at heart. He's in love with you, and it’s obvious that you don’t share the same feelings for him. Kelsey is blood. Don’t let him get in the way of your growth,” she said, reaching over and taking one of my hands into hers. “I know your father has meant the world to you, but it is time for you to move out of that house and live the life you deserve. Kelsey is looking to start over, and I think right now you need each other more than you know.”

  “So I'm not stupid?”

  “For wanting a better life for yourself? Absolutely not.”

  With my mother’s blessing, I returned home with a backseat full of carboard boxes. Mal was sitting in the living room watching television when I came struggling into the house laden with packing materials. He helped me carry them to my bedroom, setting them on the floor next to my armoire.

  “You're really leaving. Never thought I’d see the day,” Mal said, taking a seat on the floor and beginning to assemble the boxes for me. “I know how much being here meant to you. To be honest, you should've been got the fuck out of here, Bri. Went to some fancy college like Kelsey did, or at least be happy. You're the one of the smartest people I know. I can see you as a lawyer. Remember, you wanted to go to law school so—”

  “I could keep Daddy out of jail,” I finished, taking a seat beside him. “He was big on criminal justice reform. Did you know that every lawyer he had wanted him to plead guilty? Most of them had never went to trial for the clients. They didn’t care about fighting for what was right.”

  Mal nodded in agreement to everything I said. “You did. I don’t know how you might feel about this but…it ain't too late for you to pursue a career in law.”

  “Me? A lawyer? Mal…that was just some little kid dreams.”

  “Why? Because you’ve gotten so caught up in following Pop’s footsteps that you forgot about what's important: being happy.”

  “I am happy.”

  Mal shook his head. “Niggas tried to assassinate you in the elevator. I also know what you had to do in order to get that nice little setup in the East. That shit must weigh on your heart sometimes. Why else would you be packing up to leave?”

  “A better opportunity. Wherever Kelsey chose to settle down, I'm sure she won't be anywhere near the hood.” I started packing my purses into a box, stacking them in neat little rows to keep the boxes from bending. Mal kept his eyes trained on me, waiting for me to stop deflecting. “Even if I was to go to law school, I’d have to get into college first. I don’t have any of those fancy letters of recommendation.”

  “Uncle Urban can get those for you. I know you don’t like asking him for shit, but for this I'm sure he would be willing to help. I bet he’d even pay your tuition.”

  “I don’t want handouts. I'm more than capable of doing for myself.”

&nbs
p; Mal handed me another box. “I'm not saying you gotta become the next Johnny Cochran, but give a life after the game some thought.”

  We spent the next three hours working in silence, with me packing up my entire life into boxes. Mal left me some time in the middle of the night, returning with sandwiches from the store. I devoured mine while leaned up against my bed, staring at the mess of clothes that still had to be packed away. Sleep came shortly after my meal. I crawled into bed still fully dressed, and woke six hours later to my entire room neatly packed. From my shoe collection to my jewelry, Mal had stayed up the rest of the night doing what I couldn’t bring myself to do. I stood in his bedroom doorway, watching him sleep. He was in need of a shapeup and beard trim as well as a few square meals, but I could see my baby brother underneath. A pipe was nestled between his fingers, answering the question of how he got the energy to stay up all night. I felt a pang of guilt in my chest; leaving Mal in Mott Haven felt like placing a nail in his coffin. My phone started buzzing in my hand, snapping me out of my stalking. I padded over to the kitchen, answering on the third ring.

  “Good morning, Briana,” Morris greeted me. “I thought I was going to get your voicemail, but this is a pleasant surprise.”

  “What do you want, Morris?” I asked with an air of uninterest that didn’t match the rapid beating of my heart.

  He chuckled. “I just wanted to let you know that I was going to be in the area for a legal conference over the weekend. You think you can make some room on your calendar for lunch?” I rapped my nails on the counter, unable to think of the right words. “Busy? Understandable. This is last minute…”

  “Yeah, something like that. I'm moving—”

  “I can help you with some boxes if you need—”

  “In with Kelsey,” I finished, scrunching up my face for the explosion. Morris and I hadn’t discussed what we were, but it felt like more than friends and less than lovers. “I know the two of you ended on bad terms, but I’m in some trouble and living with her is what's best for me right now.”

  Morris let out something between a laugh and sigh. “I guess this means we’ll have to keep what we do on the sly…”

  “‘On the sly’? Whose granddaddy are you getting your slang from?” I asked, stifling a laugh with a sip of water. “While you're here…I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

  “Anything for you.”

  “Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

  “I don’t.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I was wondering if you could help me with some college applications. Last night I had a talk with my brother, and he thinks I should revisit this stupid childhood dream I had of becoming a lawyer.”

  I expected a third-year law school student like Morris, who was top of his class and had plenty of experience in the courtroom, to laugh at me for thinking I could go from slinging in the street to working in a courtroom. There was a pause on the line, and the pause was too long for my liking.

  “You know what, Morris? Fuck—”

  “Wow, you want my help?” he asked, surprised by my request.

  Sigh. “I asked for it, didn’t I?”

  “I would love to help you pursue a career in law. I’ll bring some applications with me on my way to New York and we’ll discuss your mission statements, letters of recommendation, SAT scores…”

  “You know what? Forget it. I changed my mind. I'm good,” I said as Morris repeated my name in an effort to calm me down.

  “Briana, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. Listen, this sounds like a lot, but trust me when I say it’s not. You want to know why? Because I'm going to help you every step of the way. All I need you to do is trust me.”

  “I don’t trust people,” I said, thinking of Jamel’s diatribe. “Every time I trust them they let me down.”

  “Well, I'm not people and I don’t intend on letting you down. I know the situation with your father has left a huge hole in your heart, but right now things are falling into place you. That feeling of uncertainty is happening because you're stepping out of your comfort zone. The box you’ve been living in is too small to contain you, and now that you want more you're breaking free. Don’t fight that; move with the current.”

  Morris would never know how much I needed to hear those words. They followed me long after our conversation, and were the last ones on my mind as I stood in the middle of my bedroom. The movers Kelsey hired had taken the boxes down to the car, giving me some alone time in the first place my head ever rested. I remember when I was little my dad would sit in this room, at the edge of my mother’s bed, bagging up nicks and dimes. I asked him what he was doing and he said, “Making sure you don’t have to spend the rest of your life here.”

  “I won't, Daddy. I promise,” I said as I closed the door on my past life, ready to move forward toward the unknown of the future. “You got my word on that.”

  12

  Quill

  Legacy’s cries snapped me out of a dreamless sleep. I rolled onto my side to see the time; 5:30 am. Sitting there, I listened for a minute, checking to see which cry it was. Drea should have fed him already. I'm sure she changed his pamper right after. He had to be tired. Rolling onto my back, I placed my hands behind my head, closing my eyes, waiting for the knock on my door. Drea had very little patience for taking care of her own son, to the point where if he cried for more than five minutes she would bring him straight to me. I was sure Bull could hear his son from the living room, and his absence in my absence spoke volumes on how much he gave a fuck about his son. The DNA test results weren’t here yet, but I knew what it would confirm. Those thoughts ran through my head, lulling me into a light slumber that was interrupted by a knocking on my bedroom door. The knob turned and in walked Drea, her hair a frizzy halo, her cheeks shiny with tears, and her face screwed up in a mix of exasperation and anger.

  “I can't get him back to sleep. I tried everything. Rocking him, bouncing him, feeding him, singing him that stupid ass song he likes, none of it is working. Can you take him so I can get at least a few hours of sleep before the sun comes up and he's begging for some more of my titties?” she said, her voice tight and emotional.

  Sliding out of bed, I held my hands out for a screaming Legacy. “Is there any milk in the fridge?”

  “The little bit I could pump. I'm fucking tired of him latching to me every hour, only for him to get a little pinch out of me. I don’t give a fuck what my momma says; I'm putting him on formula first thing in the morning,” she huffed, stalking to her bedroom and closing the door behind her with a whoosh.

  I cradled Legacy to my chest, rocking him in gentle sweeping motions. He settled down in minutes, slumbering peacefully in my arms. Making sure he was fully asleep, I placed him on the pillow beside me and went back to sleep. Not even ten minutes later, Legacy was up crying again, screaming at the top of his lungs. This felt like an internal issue, and I woke Drea up to run down a list of possible theories. She answered by handing me the baby’s insurance card and baby bag, shutting her bedroom door in my face right after. I changed and dressed Legacy, threw on a pair of sweats over my basketball shorts, and we were out the door in less than twenty minutes, passing Bull on the couch knocked out.

  “Bitch ass nigga,” I said under my breath as I locked up.

  The Williamsburg waterfront was beautiful at this time of morning, with the sun peeking over the New York City skyline, reflecting off the East River, creating sparkles you could get lost in on the right day. I picked this apartment for the view; on bad days it was responsible for keeping me sane. Today was one of those days. It was a little breezy for a baby, but Legacy needed air more than anything. Parking the car, I suited little man up, making sure to wrap him in two blankets, and took him on a walk around East River State Park. The fresh air quelled him, lulling him back to sleep as I rapped some Pac to him. We arrived at the small park overlooking the skyline.

  “Legacy, between the two of us, I don’t know what I'm going to do,” I said
to the slumbering baby. “I’m in over my head. Your mother, my brother, they got me into some deep shit I don’t think I’ll be able to pull myself out of. To be honest, other than you, I don’t have much to live for. I ruined things with the one person who gave me a reason to keep pushing. She doesn’t want anything to do with me and she has every right to feel the way she does. Knowing she's out there hurting because of me, hurts. I wish there was a way I could make things right between the two of us, but I don’t think there is. A nigga stopped believing in miracles a long time ago.”

  Legacy grunted in reply, and out came the longest fart I ever heard from a baby. I pressed his feet against my hands, giving him the traction he needed to push against them to get the rest of his gas out. The smell that came from this little boy nearly burnt a hole in my beard, and I could do nothing but laugh. I was ready to take him to the hospital over some gas. Shaking my head, I got one last look at the view before heading back to the car. On my way, I texted my mother for some natural gas remedies I could keep on hand for future reference. I was so into my phone I crashed into a jogger, sending her flying flat onto her ass.

  “Damn, miss, I'm sorry,” I said, extending a hand to her.

  She accepted it, and I couldn’t help but notice how soft her hands were. They were the color of melted chocolate with a velvety texture to match. I knew a beautiful face had to be hiding underneath the low brim cap she wore. Her luscious lips parted, uttering a gracious “thank you,” her angelic voice causing my heart to stop completely. I held onto her hand, craning my neck to get a good look at her face, and was gifted with its appearance as she used her free hand to raise her hat to get a good look at me.

  “Kelsey?” I breathed.

  If Kelsey was surprised at my appearance, she didn’t give me the satisfaction. Her hand went limp in mine, and she replied with a confused, “Quill?” She tried extracting her hand from mine to no avail. “If you don’t let go of my hand in another minute this park is going to be swarming with my security—here they are now.” I let go of her hand. She pressed a button on her Apple Watch, and said, “He's fine, Terry. I know him. No need for assistance.”