Brother to Brother: The Sacred Brotherhood Book I

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Brother to Brother: The Sacred Brotherhood Book I Page 9

by A. J. Downey


  “Well, that escalated quickly,” I muttered to myself, my own eyes locked on the sleeping boy. I didn’t know what to think, the fact that the whole thing had jump started my heart as hard as it had.

  Maybe it was more like I didn’t want to admit how much I was beginning to feel. Not just for Noah, but for his mother too.

  Shit.

  Chapter 15

  Melody

  A month or more had passed since the incident with Noah and his stitches, and my little boy’s cut had healed admirably. His first permanent mark was forever etched in a straight notch through his eyebrow, however. When he was older, it would probably make him look more edgy, perhaps even devilish, the way his father had looked. Grinder very nearly had the same scar, only on the opposite side, though his story had been much more sinister at how he had arrived at it.

  I wish I could say that I was fully recovered from the incident, but after my hot shower and a shot of tequila which Archer had insisted I take on the doctor’s orders, I had slept and I had slept hard and well. However, all good things must come to an end and I think that was the last good night’s sleep I’d had since.

  Archer was barely at the apartment at night, and even so, I swear he could sleep through just about anything short of a nuclear bomb blast. It was as if he and Noah were father and son in that regard. My little boy could sleep through just about anything too. I envied them their particular superpower.

  If it wasn’t the Charger out front, it was one of the neighboring apartments. If it wasn’t music, it was the couple in apartment number two downstairs and to the right of ours. They fought near constantly and their screaming should have been heard for miles. I was exhausted, I wanted sleep, I wanted sleep so bad I cried very nearly every night until it found me… because let’s face it, I very rarely, if ever, found it.

  I blame my total lack of sleep on the monumental mistake I made coming back to the apartment that day. It was sunny, and warm. Unseasonably warm according to the radio. I was loving it. Except for the fact the air was so humid as compared to the dry desert heat of Arizona, it was very nearly just like being home.

  I had gone to the grocery store to pick up just a few items and I had them tucked in the crook of one arm against my hip, while I had Noah in the other, equally balanced on the other hip as I kicked the back door of my sad little hatchback closed. I didn’t even bother to lock it. There wasn’t anything worth stealing in it. It didn’t even have a CD player, but rather the factory radio and a broken tape deck. I figured if anyone wanted to go through it that badly, they could have at it; I might as well save myself the broken window which I wouldn’t be able to afford to get fixed anyways.

  I was saving my ass off for first, last, and deposit on a place for me and Noah that was anywhere but here, and like I said, I blame the lack of sleep when it came to my frayed rope and what happened next. I was headed towards the stairs up to the second floor when the owner of the Charger started blaring his bass heavy rap music and without even thinking, my last thread of sanity snapped.

  “Oh will you give it a fucking rest already! You know there are people who actually live here who would like to sleep every once in a while,” I said over my shoulder.

  The owner of the car stood up straight out of the car and turned, “What did you say to me you fat white bitch?” he demanded and I carried on up the stairs.

  “You obviously heard me just fine,” I called back crossly and the young man, probably younger than even I was at a mere twenty-eight, started up the stairs in my direction. I dropped the groceries and fumbled the keys into the lock, my hand shaking while Noah stared at the man with wide innocent eyes.

  “Oh I know, you ain’t talkin’ to me that way, I’m about to teach yo ass some respect! What you think you doin’ talkin’ to a nigga like that?” I shoved open the door and went to slam it into his face but I was too late. He kicked in the door and cradling Noah in my arms I protected him with my body as we both went down.

  My son shrieked in terror and I heard my voice echo his as the man towered over us both and I went sprawling into the living room of Archer’s apartment. Noah struggled out of my grip and crawled away, sitting up. His voice rising in a panicked cry I could do little to comfort because the gangbanger standing in the doorway had all of my attention.

  I put my hands up and beseeched him, “Please, not in front of my son, don’t shoot me in front of my son.”

  “Oh I might shoot you bitch, but I got a different lesson in mind,” he said, licking his bottom lip and grabbing his crotch with his other hand. I felt myself blanch.

  “I’ll do anything you ask, just please, not in front of my son.”

  I started to cry, the tears of pure terror slipping down my cheeks, and I did nothing to wipe them away. I was frozen, adrenaline pounding through my veins with every heartbeat. I wanted to pick up my son, but I didn’t dare move. The man smiled, his deep ebony skin making his teeth seem so very white, the metal in his mouth from several gold teeth gleaming. I would say his smile was like the Cheshire cat’s in a way, however it was far too malevolent for that. I was staring pure evil in the face and I found myself silently praying to Grinder, to God, and to anyone else who would listen, to give me the strength and cunning to get my son and I both out of this intact.

  “Take off them panties,” he ordered and I broke into a sob.

  “Please don’t, not in front of my son!” I begged and he cocked the gun shoving it forcefully in the air in my direction.

  “I suggest you do what I tell you and maybe I won’t!” he shouted.

  I shook and moved mechanically to comply. I was still in my work uniform, which was a little light turquoise 1950’s dress with white apron and white accents at the collar and short sleeves. They were paired with white ankle socks and white Chuck Taylor sneakers and fit the diner I worked at. I had loved the uniform when I started, but right now, sprawled on my butt in the living room with the short, mid-thigh length skirt riding up after my tumble, I loathed it for giving this creature the perverse idea to rape me in front of my child.

  I shimmied my white cotton underwear midway down my thighs while the perve pointed a gun in my face and I was about to resign myself to my fate when he froze and looked like he was about to shit himself. I stopped and it was Noah’s screaming cry of “Unca Atcha!” that let me know who was behind the thug.

  Archer took a slight step to the right and I could see him framed in the open door, a gun of his own pressed into the close shaven scalp of our assailant, a calm, but angry look on his face. He nudged the man’s scalp and said, “Hand over your piece before I redecorate the inside of this place with your face.” The man put up his hands and Archer took the gun, shoving it into the back of his waistband.

  “What the fuck you think you doin’ in here? Huh?” Archer demanded.

  “Man, I was teaching yo bitch a lesson!”

  “Yeah, well, you don’t teach my bitch anything, that’s my job.”

  “Well you need to teach her some respect, you dig?”

  “Well you need to get the fuck out of my place and let me handle these things, you dig?” Archer demanded back, pressing the gun barrel harder into the man’s skull, moving to the side to let him switch places and to put him closer to the door.

  “Man, you is makin’ a mistake comin’ at me like this,” the Charger’s driver said, and Archer cut him off.

  “Shut the fuck up! Don’t think I don’t know who your fuckin’ boss is. The only mistake you made was coming into a Sacred Heart’s place. Somehow I don’t think that’s a can of whoopass you’re going to want to open. Now you might want to get the fuck out, before I change my mind about redecorating.” Archer said coldly.

  I swallowed hard, and the man changed his tune but only slightly, upon hearing the club’s name…

  “Alright, alright, we cool, we cool. I’m leavin’. What about my gun?”

  “Consider it the cost of doing business,” Archer said, and he already had the man almost h
alfway out the door, “Newsflash for you, Slick. You tell your homies and the rest of your crew that this apartment, everything and everyone in it, is mine. You get me? There won’t be a next time for any of this shit either.”

  He then shut the door in the gang banger’s face and turned to me, asking softly, “You alright?”

  I pushed to my feet, bile rising in my throat and gasped out, “Take care of Noah,” before I stepped out of my panties and practically ran for the bathroom, slamming the bedroom door behind me. When I did, I saw Archer picking up my son and cradling him against his chest the way any protective father would.

  I threw up, and I don’t remember much, but the next thing I did remember was sitting on the end of Archer’s bed hugging myself, knees tightly together, one hand pressed over my mouth as I sobbed while trying valiantly to make no noise so my child wouldn’t hear. Archer came in the room and I saw past him that Nox and Rush had Noah. I only caught a glimpse before Archer closed the door but it was enough to send me into more sobs as the adrenaline wore off and I crashed and burned.

  Archer sat down next to me and did something unprecedented. He put his arms around me and tucked me tightly into his chest. He breathed out a heavy sigh and pressed his lips to the top of my hair.

  “You should have killed him,” I said voice cracking.

  “Oh, I’m going to, but I need to go about it the right way,” he said and I knew he was completely, one hundred percent serious, however, I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but relieved.

  “When you calm down, you can tell me what happened but right now, just shhhh,” he soothed and it was just so nice of him and completely out of the ordinary. I was grateful for the reprieve though, so I just soaked it up while I could and let myself calm down.

  I swallowed hard, and told him everything and when I was finished, he sighed asking, “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t sleeping because of that asshole?”

  “I didn’t want to be a bother, I guess I figured you wouldn’t really care. I mean, it wasn’t affecting Noah, so why bother, right?”

  He went deathly silent for a minute and I could almost hear him thinking, finally he said, “Right,” but it came out so incredibly bitter. I wondered for a glimmer of a moment if I had hurt his feelings with that little revelation.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked weakly, fear for mine and Noah’s safety creeping in.

  “’We’ aren’t going to do anything. You are going to stay here with Rush and Nox, I am going to go have a talk with Dragon. I need you to sit tight. Clean yourself up, and go comfort your boy. I’ll be back when I can.”

  I nodded and he let me go; I suddenly felt bereft and incredibly selfish. Of course my son needed me, and here I was, in Archer’s room, hiding from him. I felt deep shame over that, even deeper than I had a moment before. I didn’t have the time or ability to fall apart for myself when Noah needed me, now did I? I swallowed hard and looked up at Archer.

  “Be careful?” I asked and he searched my face, his green-gold eyes almost troubled.

  “Always am,” he said and got up, going back out into the living room.

  Chapter 16

  Archer

  “She okay?” Rush asked and I shook my head handing him the piece I took off the banger.

  “No, I need you two to stay here and keep her and Noah safe, I’ve gotta go see Dragon and get in front of this before it gets worse.”

  “Yeah, we can do that, fly low fly fast Brother.” Nox said and with that, I was out of there. I went out, the Charger was gone, and I put my headphones in and plugged them into my phone, dialing up Dragon as I fired up the bike.

  “Yeah?” he answered by way of greeting.

  “We got a situation, P. One of the Fiddy Street Crew’s boys just busted into my place and tried to rape Mel.”

  “Jesus Fucking Christ! What would he go and do a damn fool thing like that for?”

  “Perceived disrespect, she told him to turn his music down in a less than polite way. What’s worse, he was gonna do it in front of Noah.”

  “Shit, they okay?”

  “Shook up, scared as fuck, I got Rush and Nox there watching ‘em but we need to get ahead of this before all hell breaks loose.”

  “You on your way here?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I shouted above the road noise. “Be there in like ten more.”

  “Noted, I’ll get us a sitdown with their shotcaller,” he said.

  “Be there soon,” I said to the empty air, Dragon had already hung up on me.

  ***

  Something like an hour later; Dragon, me, Reaver, Duracell, and Blue were riding up on neutral territory. The man of the hour, the shotcaller for the Fiddy Street Crew, waited with some of his street soldiers outside a couple of tricked out black Escalades.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” he called out when we’d shut off the bikes.

  “Seems to me you might want to tug on a leash or two before me an’ mine get a mite upset,” Dragon said dispassionately.

  I stood in my appointed place and tuned out the conversation. The last thing I wanted was for the club to get in another war, and the last thing I needed was to get pissed off and shove us headlong in that direction. I’d called Dragon for a reason, because if anyone could get us out of this using diplomacy it was him. Additionally, if there was anyone who could get me the other thing I wanted, it was him… and what I really, really wanted was that motherfucker’s head on a pike.

  “So you’re telling me that if you don’t get this cat’s head that it’s gonna be war?” I heard the shotcaller say.

  “That’s about the size of it, yeah.”

  Go Dragon, I thought. Color me impressed, I didn’t expect him to be that direct. The shotcaller looked skeptically at us for a full minute, taking our measure as to how serious he thought we were being.

  “Man you must be some kind of crazy,” he said, the scepticism in his eyes coloring his voice. It was Reaver who beat me to saying it…

  “Tell that to the Suicide Kings,” he said and I tried not to smirk and failed. So did the rest of the guys on our side of the proverbial line in the sand.

  The shotcaller called back over his shoulder to one of his men something that sounded like ‘groan main’ which was the weirdest fuckin’ name I’d ever heard, and with our road names, I’d heard some fuckin’ doozies. I didn’t comment, I wanted to see what was what.

  “Yeah, Boss?”

  “Who runs out of the apartments on twenty-sixth and Vine?” he asked.

  “That’d be Shorty Mac, Boss.”

  “Uh huh,” he said and licked his bottom lip, head back, lookin’ down his nose at all of us. I gritted my teeth and I could see Duracell doin’ the same.

  “Alright, y’all do you. You disappear this one man with no interference from me an’ mine we cool?”

  “Oh yeah, we’d be cool,” Dragon said.

  The shotcaller nodded slowly, considering, “Y’all some badass motherfuckers, we want no beef wit’ you. You want him, you can have him. Rapin’ girls in front of their kids is bad for business as is evidenced by this little party we’re havin’ right here.”

  “I don’t disagree,” Dragon said.

  “Cool, we cool then?”

  “No interference from you and yours, we’ll be cool as soon as the job is done.”

  “So be it.”

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” Dragon said with a wicked smile, before he turned to me, “You want you should do this, they’re bein’ your declared property an’ all?”

  “Absolutely,” I said.

  “Awww!” Reaver stuck his bottom lip out and pouted.

  “You’re welcome to join me,” I told him and he gave a feral grin.

  “Yay!”

  The men from the Fiddy Street Crew gave Reaver a weird look, the shotcaller saying, “Man, you’re one weird cat.”

  Reaver bobbed his head happily in the dude’s direction, “Uh huh!”

  “Rig
ht then, meeting adjourned…” Dragon muttered and we started up the bikes, leaving out the way we came. About half way to the clubhouse, Reaver and I broke off and went our own way.

  Chapter 17

  Melody

  The bedroom door opened and I looked up sharply from where Noah lay sleeping. It was late, and for once the apartments were silent, but of course I couldn’t sleep. Archer stood in the doorway and I sat up, he came into the room and shut the door behind him, his gaze roaming over me and Noah, his lips thinning down into a straight line.

  “Marry me,” he said and I blinked.

  “I’m sorry, but did you just ask me to –”

  “I’ll say it again, marry me, Mel. I’ve been thinking about it. I can do so much more for you, and for Noah. I can put you both on my insurance at the shop, I can adopt Noah and be a father to him, I can give you both the protection you need and with the tax breaks and shit, I can get us into a house faster, and start saving for the boy’s education… all of it.” He scanned my face and I sat, shocked into silence. Everything he said was true but…

  “Why? Why would you do this? I mean, what’s in it for you?”

  “A family. A real one,” he said. “You agree to bear me at least one child, you be a mother to them, that’s all I want, Mel.”

  “How do I know you won’t treat Noah like something… less, once you have a child of your own?” I asked, voice quavering.

  “You have my word, and have I ever gone back on my word in all the time you’ve known me?”

  I closed my eyes and breathed slow and even. This was big. This was a lot and so very quickly. I opened them and stared at Archer which was when I noticed a few errant stains on his tee. Stains that hadn’t been there when he’d come home the first time. Stains that looked suspiciously like blood. I looked Archer in the eye and swallowed hard.

 

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