Chapter 16 #2
“I got it handled, neph! Fire’s out! Auntie Ari wet it up. Just cleaning up the water now!” Isa shouted back as he got on one knee and slid her shorts aside one last time to take one final slurp of her clit. Aria gripped the sides of his head and trembled before pushing him away.
“Since when you know how to make pizza anyway?” Aria asked.
“Nigga, I used to work at Little Caesars for like a week when I was a buck. Only honest job I ever had my whole life. Until I saw how much they kept in the safe and decided to send Messiah and Meek in that bitch,” Isa stated.
“The Crew gon’ crew,” Aria said, shaking her head, smiling.
“Man, we been bad as fuck. I was like fourteen, working on a little work permit. We used to split one burner. Raggedy-ass bitch we bought off a crack head. Bitch barely worked, but it was enough to get that cash out the safe, though. Had me in that mu’fucka acting my ass off, like I wasn’t a part of the setup.
We split like $8,000, and I quit the next day.
Whole mu’fucking summer was lit.” Isa found amusement in the old memory.
“I wonder if them niggas even remember that shit.”
“Probably, y’all been thugging ever since,” Aria said with a hint of disappointment in her voice. “I should shower and get going,” Aria said.
Isa heard her tone change, and dread filled him. He nodded and stepped back. “With everything that’s popping off, you still on this bullshit?” Isa asked, realizing nothing had changed.
Aria Taylor was an anomaly to Isa. She could be so kind and giving one moment and turn completely indifferent the next. It was damaging to the ego of a man who had grown accustomed to having his way.
“When the house catches fire, you get as far away from it as possible,” Aria stated. “Trying to save anything inside is what gets you killed.”
He couldn’t express the disappointment he felt, but it was there, souring his insides as he watched her walk away.
She was the first “L” he had ever taken, and it hurt.
He knew that after her, he wouldn’t be so quick to invest real energy in another woman.
It made him feel too powerless. In fact, it downright broke a real nigga’s heart.
“Tramadol,” Mara called out as she handed Alani an oblong pill and a cardboard water cup. Alani swallowed it down. “Blood thinner,” Mara informed, handing her a second pill. Alani took that one as well. “Blood pressure medication…”
Alani paused. “I have high blood pressure?” she asked.
“It’s been elevated since you gave birth. This could be due to the stress your body has been under, residual from the high blood pressure during pregnancy. No worries. I’m monitoring things closely.”
Alani nodded and took the third pill.
“And one more,” Mara said. Alani didn’t miss that she didn’t tell her what it was for.
“What is this one?” Alani asked.
“It’s just something to help with your mood and to make sure you aren’t falling into depression,” Mara stated.
“Wait, why…” Alani shook her head in confusion. “Why do I need this? I’m not depressed. I feel fine.”
“I’m here for you, Alani. You had a psychological breakdown the other day.
I don’t want to alarm your husband, so I’m trying to make sure that doesn’t happen again.
Depression can be dangerous in your state.
You don’t remember me finding you in a heap on the floor in your bedroom? ” Mara asked, eyes shining in concern.
What the fuck is she talking about?
“I told you I was looking for something. I wasn’t…”
“Alani, you were completely out of control. You had a meltdown, and I found this under your pillow,” Mara said.
She pulled a folded piece of paper from her scrubs pocket and handed it to Alani. Alani’s hand shook as she grabbed it.
“Why would you show me this?” Alani asked as she opened it. “I didn’t have this. Where did you get this?”
The words autopsy report glared back at her, and Alani felt like there were hands around her neck.
“From you,” Mara said. “Is this what you were searching for? It’s horrible. The way she died. Who would do something like that to a child? It’s monstrous.”
Kenzie had died of asphyxiation as blood from two gunshot wounds filled her lungs.
“I didn’t have this! I’ve never even seen this!” Alani protested.
“I’m sorry, Alani. It’s common not to remember things day to day in your position. Confusion is normal, and I’ll get you through this. I really think this medication will help.”
Alani remembered searching the room, but she didn’t remember finding this document at all.
She felt like she was going crazy, and seeing Kenzie’s injuries in black and white in her hands tore her apart.
It felt like the devil himself reached inside her chest and then clawed his way through her body, ripping her wide open.
“I really don’t remember this,” she whispered, closing her fist around the document and closing her eyes. “Do you know where I found it?”
Mara averted her eyes.
“Mara?” Alani pushed. “Where did I find this?”
“You broke into your husband’s safe,” Mara revealed.
“Why would he have my baby’s autopsy report hidden away in a safe? Why would he have it at all?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Mara whispered. “But you shouldn’t keep asking these questions. I don’t want you to work yourself into paranoia or psychosis or depression. You can’t handle this type of stress right now. Please, just take the medication. It’ll help you.”
Alani put the pill in her mouth and took a sip of the water to swallow it down. Her mind was racing, and she felt sick to her stomach.
“Good,” Mara said.
“You think you can indulge me in some PT?”
Alani hated the physical therapy. It was excruciating and exhausting. It left her so drained that she slept for hours afterward, and her heart simply wasn’t in it.
“Can I have a moment?” Alani asked.
“Of course,” Mara said. Mara began to gather her things to walk away, but she doubled back. “I know it’s important for you to be here with your family while you heal. I don’t think it’s wise to concern your husband about your mental state. We should put that back where you found it,” Mara warned.
Alani’s eyes misted because she was scrolling her mental rolodex from front to back. It was like she had lost time. It felt like this was the first time she was viewing this information. “I don’t remember where I got it,” Alani admitted, her tone so low that it was painted in embarrassment.
“Do you want me to toss it?” Mara asked.
It felt wrong to discard, but also haunting to keep. She knew if it were within arm’s reach, she would read the report again and again. “Can you put it in my top drawer, please? I can’t bring myself to throw it away.”
Mara nodded empathetically, taking the paper and putting it where Alani had asked before walking out of the room.
Alani grabbed her phone and sent a text to Nyair.
Nyair, I need your help.
Alani needed him. He was one of the few people she remembered, and she knew she could trust him. She had questions that no one wanted to answer. She prayed Nyair would.
“Heaven Can Wait” by Michael Jackson
Messiah lounged in the bed, his feet kicked up, with Yara lying sideways on his chest as she played with her iPad.
I love this girl so much, man, he thought. I ain’t had enough time.
Messiah’s chest had been heavy for days. It was hard for him to breathe, let alone think, and with Morgan also being in trouble, his mind was all over the place.
He wanted to get into the field, where he could be useful, but Ethic had forbidden it. Ethic had challenged him to put his children above all else, so Messiah didn’t leave. Yara was his only focus. He had never felt so helpless.
“Your turn,” Yara signed.
Messiah took one of the puzzle pieces, and put it in place on her screen, and then kissed the top of her head. Yara pushed his face away, and Messiah couldn’t help but chuckle. She was so damn temperamental.
“Why Daddy can’t have no love, Killa?” Messiah signed.
“Because,” Yara signed back.
“Because what, baby?” Messiah inquired.
“You feel mad,” she signed back.
Her answer was so simple yet so complex.
“Daddy’s never mad at you,” he signed back. “I love you. Why you like to hurt your daddy’s feelings? Can you ease up a little bit and be nice to daddy.”
“No,” Yara signed simply. “When you feel nice, I’ll be nice.”
It was a lesson of reciprocity in the purest form. Yara wasn’t giving Messiah anything he wasn’t giving to her.
“I’m not nice to you and your brother?” he asked.
Messiah was a dominant man. He controlled every room and every conversation.
His daughter was the only human being he had ever encountered that intimidated him.
She made him work for every piece of affection she gave him.
He second guessed everything before he engaged with her just to make sure he was doing and saying the right things.
“You’re not nice to Mommy,” Yara said. “You make her heart go...” She beat her little hand against her chest fast and frantically.
Messiah was amazed at how intuitive Yara was.
She wasn’t basing her love for him on how he treated her.
She wasn’t even basing it on how he treated Morgan because he had never mistreated her in front of the twins.
Yara was basing his approval on what Morgan felt on the inside.
Yara could feel what most people couldn’t.
She relied on energy, on tension, and with her mother, she notated everything.
Morgan’s breathing, her pulse. Messiah didn’t realize that Morgan experienced so much internal turmoil when he was around.
He used to be her peace, and now he caused her emotional wars, and that realization was humbling.
It hurt to know. He never wanted Morgan to feel anxious with him, or afraid, or whatever it was that she felt but never revealed.
Messiah wanted Morgan to feel loved because it was what he felt for her.
Every second of every day he loved her dearly but there was a disconnect if Yara was identifying something else inside her mom.