4. Vice Blackwell
VICE BLACKWELL
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Sam lying on that hospital bed. Then I'd hear the doctor's voice all over again.
"We're sorry... We did everything we could."
Bullshit.
Somebody out there was still breathing, but my cousin wasn't, and the more I thought about it, the harder it became to accept this bullshit.
I got dressed in silence, throwing on a black suit.
By the time I made it downstairs, Mace was already waiting. One look at him told me he hadn't gotten any sleep either. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw was tight, and although he looked the same as he always did on the outside, something about him felt... off.
"You ready?" he asked.
I grabbed my keys off the table before shaking my head, no. "I ain't ready to bury my cousin, man."
He looked down at the floor for a second before saying in a low tone, "Me neither."
The drive to the church was quiet. Normally Sam would've been blowing my phone up before I even left the house, asking where I was or complaining that I was running late.
Today, my shit was dry, and that pissed me off more than anything else.
It was a reminder that I'd never hear my cousin’s voice again, never tell him to shut the hell up, never watch him get on everybody's nerves just because he could.
I'd spent my whole life believing family would always be here.
Now I was on my way to bury one of them.
Neither one of us said much during the drive.
There wasn't anything left to say that hadn't already been said at the hospital.
Sam was gone, and no amount of talking was going to change that.
All it did was give me more time to think about the people responsible, and every mile we drove made me want them that much more.
By the time we pulled into the church parking lot, there were already more cars than I expected. Sam knew a lot of people, so I wasn’t surprised to see the crowd, but that didn’t make it any easier knowing every person walking through those doors was here because he was dead.
Mace parked near the side entrance, and neither one of us moved right away. He sat behind the wheel staring straight ahead while I looked toward the church.
“You good?” I asked.
His head turned in my direction. “Yeah...”
The answer came too fast, sounding like a lie, but I let it go.
Mace had been off ever since Sam got shot, and although I knew losing him had hit everybody different, something about the way Mace was handling it kept catching my attention.
He was usually the one person I could count on to keep his emotions out of whatever needed to be handled.
Since Sam died, he’d been quieter than usual, barely sleeping and spending every free minute trying to figure out who killed him.
I understood that better than anybody, so I didn’t question it.
We got out and headed toward the church.
A few people stopped me before I could make it through the door, offering condolences and asking if I needed anything.
I thanked them and kept moving. Everybody meant well, but there wasn’t anything anybody could give me unless they knew who killed my cousin.
The second I stepped inside, my eyes found my aunt.
She was sitting near the front of the church surrounded by family, dressed in black with a tissue balled up in one hand. I’d seen her cry plenty of times over the years, but I’d never seen her look the way she did the day he died… or right now.
Losing a child did something different to a person.
I stood here for a second before making my way toward her. She didn’t notice me until I was almost in front of her, but the second she looked up and saw me, whatever little strength she’d been holding onto disappeared.
“Kaiden…”
Nobody called me that anymore… Well, nobody but her.
I bent down just as she reached for me, and the second her arms went around my neck, she broke down.
“My baby gone.”
I closed my eyes and held her tighter.
“I know.”
“Somebody killed my baby.”
Her whole body shook against mine, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could say to make it better.
This was the woman who had stepped in when my own mother couldn’t take care of me.
She’d fed me, clothed me, made sure I went to school and gave me a home when I didn’t have one.
As far as I was concerned, she’d raised two sons.
Now one of us was dead.
“I need you to find out who did this,” she cried against my shoulder.
My jaw tightened as I looked over her head toward the casket sitting at the front of the church.
“I will.”
She pulled back enough to look at me, tears running down her face. “Promise me.”
I didn’t hesitate.
“I promise.”
I stayed with her until she finally loosened her arms from around me. One of my older cousins moved closer to help her back into her seat, but she kept one hand wrapped around mine like she wasn’t ready to let me go.
“You sitting with me?” she asked.
“Where else I’ma sit?”
She nodded, wiping at her face with the tissue in her hand. “You always got something smart to say.”
“That’s what you raised.”
That got the smallest laugh out of her, and for a few seconds, she looked more like herself. I bent down and kissed her forehead before taking the seat beside her.
A hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Uncle Henry standing over me.
He looked exhausted. The last few days had taken a toll on him. His eyes were bloodshot, and the man who always seemed so steady looked like he was holding himself together by a thread
He didn’t say anything right away.
Instead, he pulled me up into a hug.
I hugged him back just as tightly.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done,” he said quietly after pulling away. “You’ve been holding this family together.”
I shook my head.
“We’re family. That’s what we’re supposed to do.”
He nodded, but his eyes drifted toward Aunt Denise.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without my boy.” The pain in his voice tugged at a nigga’s heart.
I looked toward the casket sitting at the front of the church before looking back at him.
“We’re gonna find out who did this.”
His jaw clenched.
“I know you will.”
He reached over and straightened my tie, something he’d done since I was a teenager whenever he thought I looked too rushed to notice it myself.
“You still can’t tie this thing right,” he muttered.
I let out a laugh as I told him, “I tied it.”
“Barely.” For the first time all morning, the corner of his mouth twitched. “You know Sam would’ve talked shit about it.”
“He would’ve said I looked like I borrowed it.”
Uncle Henry let out a soft chuckle before the smile disappeared.
“I’d trade every suit I own just to hear him talking again.”
Neither one of us said anything after that.
There wasn’t anything left to say.
He squeezed my shoulder one last time before walking over to Aunt Denise. The second he sat beside her, she leaned into him, and he wrapped an arm around her without saying a word.
Watching the two of them together made my chest tighten. Losing a child was every parent’s worst nightmare.
Mace sat a few seats down from us. He hadn’t said much since we walked into the church, and every time I looked his way, his attention was on the casket.
People came over to speak to him, and he responded when he had to, but something about him still wasn’t right.
I’d known that nigga long enough to know when he was holding something in, but today wasn’t the day to press him about it.
Sam had been around us for years, and everybody sitting in that front row had lost somebody they loved.
The church continued filling up until there wasn’t an empty seat left.
I recognized most of the faces, while others I had probably seen once or twice through Sam.
Everybody had a story about him. Everybody had something they were going to miss.
I sat here listening as one person after another talked about how funny he was, how loyal he was and how he always showed up when somebody needed him.
That was Sam.
He could get on your last damn nerve, but if you called him at three in the morning and said you needed him, he’d be on the way before asking what happened.
My aunt cried through most of the service. Me and Uncle Henry took turns wrapping our arms around her as she leaned into our chests. He was in bad shape too, but not nearly as bad as her.
Every now and then, she’d whisper something about Sam that made her cry even harder. By the time they opened the floor for anyone who wanted to speak, several people had already made their way toward the front.
I wasn’t one of them.
Public speaking had never been a problem for me. I could stand in front of a room full of people and talk business without thinking twice, but I didn’t have anything to say about Sam that I wanted to share with a church full of people. What I had to say to my cousin was between me and him.
Mace surprised me when he stood.
My eyes followed him as he walked toward the front of the church. He stopped beside the casket for a few seconds before moving to the microphone, and from where I sat, I could see him struggling to pull himself together.
“Sam was…” He stopped and cleared his throat before trying again. “Sam was one of the most annoying mothafuckas I ever met.”
A few laughs echoed through the church, including one from my aunt.
Mace smiled, but it didn’t last long.
“He talked too much. Always had something to say, and half the time, nobody asked his opinion.” He looked down for a second before continuing. “But he was solid. If Sam told you he had you, he had you. You didn’t have to question it.”
His voice changed near the end, and although most people probably didn’t notice, I did.
Mace wasn’t a man who got emotional in front of people. I’d seen him angry. I’d even seen him laugh until tears came out of his eyes. I’d seen him ready to kill somebody. Hell, I’d seen him actually kill mothafuckas, but I’d never seen him fight this hard to keep himself together.