Chapter 8 #2
I headed to the bathroom to clean my face and pull my emotions together.
Bilal was always in that shit. As a little girl, I remembered him being in those streets.
My dad had gone as far as trying to go to the Patterson’s house to talk to them about B.
Security wouldn’t let him through and threatened to shoot his ass if he didn’t leave. He’d done everything he knew to do.
Bilal was addicted to the fast money, the adrenaline rush, and the status.
He was the only one that could change things.
No one else could do that for him. Bilal had money like crazy.
When he tried to give my parents money, they always refused.
I wasn’t strong like them. When he gave me money, I took that shit, especially when I was a teenager.
Once I came out of the restroom, Graham was walking toward me with his phone in his hand. He handed it to me as I frowned. “Hello?” I said hesitantly.
“What’s up, shorty. It’s Noah. Go see about your brother. I’ll reschedule the flight. You won’t miss an opportunity. I promise. Be with your family.”
I broke down. He was quiet while I had a slight meltdown. “Thank you, Noah. That means so much,” I said through my tears.
“You don’t have to thank me. Update me on how he’s doing. I’ll be praying for you and him. Talk to you soon.”
“Thank you again.”
I gave Graham his phone back after Noah disconnected the call. “How did you know?”
“I was standing at the door and heard your conversation.”
I nodded. “Thank you.” Turning to Kimaji, I said, “I’m gonna get an Uber to take me home to get my car.”
“I can take you there, Arlie.”
“No. Spend time with your brother,” I said, glancing at Graham.
I hugged her, then stared at him for a moment. “See you around.”
He nodded, then grabbed my hand and pulled me to him.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and exhaled.
I swore this shit felt like home. He kissed my head as I pulled away.
I headed to the exit as they both watched me.
I quickly requested an Uber so I could get to the hospital to see my brother.
I wouldn’t waste time going to get my car.
Before I could walk outside, Maj said, “Keep me updated, boo.”
“I will.”
My dad was standing in the hallway, looking perplexed. I quickly made my way to him. His eyes widened as I practically crashed into him. “What are you doing here, baby girl?”
“I was able to reschedule my trip. They told me to take the time I needed to be with my family. I’m happy, because I wanted to be here. What’s going on?” I asked as I pulled away.
“He went into cardiac arrest, baby. They’re working on him now.”
Tears fell down my cheeks as I stared at his room door.
This was unbelievable. However, at the same time, it wasn’t shocking.
People that chose to continue down this path either landed in jail or the grave.
My mama used to say that shit all the time.
The ones that made it were extremely blessed and had a purpose for God to fulfill.
I didn’t know what God’s purpose was for my brother, but I was starting to wonder if it had been fulfilled.
When the door opened, I released my dad as the doctor said, “I’m sorry, Mister Winston. We lost him.”
I walked toward the wall as my dad nodded.
After getting to it, I put my back against it and slid to the floor.
My brother was gone. Damn. This was so hard.
Daddy walked over to me and helped me from the floor, then led me inside Bilal’s room.
I made my way to his bedside and grabbed his hand.
My dad went to his other side. I lowered my head and whispered, “I love you so much, B. I hate I didn’t get here in time. ”
My dad pulled up a chair and sat next to him as he called the funeral home to come and get his body. When he ended the call, I asked, “Did he have insurance, Daddy?”
“Yeah. I took out a policy on both of you when you were kids.”
“Will it be enough?”
I wasn’t rolling in money, but I could spare a few thousand to make sure my brother’s arrangements were taken care of.
“It’s enough, baby. It’s a fifty-thousand-dollar policy.”
I nodded and sat in another chair and just stared at my brother.
I couldn’t believe he was gone. Telling him I had signed with Noah was something I was looking forward to.
He loved Noah, Exodus, and even Noelle, Noah’s daughter.
He was starting to get into Noah’s son, Jax.
He was rapping like his dad and had also been playing football in the NFL.
There were other rappers on Noah’s label that he thought were nice as well. He would have been excited as hell.
There weren’t many rappers outside of Houston that he liked, but Noah was the standard for him, just like my mama. Well . . . not just like my mama. My mama thought he was the standard when it came to looks too.
“B, why? It’s hard enough living without Mama. You wanted to make this shit harder for us? It’s only been five years since she left us. You only thirty-two. You had so much life left to live.”
I looked over at my dad to see the frown on his face. “Daddy, did you call Cree?”
He shook his head, so I texted her. Cree was Bilal’s ex-girlfriend and baby mama. She had a three-year-old daughter with my brother. She was a beautician, so I didn’t know if she was even able to talk.
Hey, Cree. It’s Arlie. When you have time, I need you to call me. It’s an emergency.
Within a couple of minutes, she called, sounding irritated as fuck. “If this about Bilal’s triflin’ ass, I don’t want to hear it. Majesty ain’t seen his ass in two weeks, and she’s been whining for her daddy. He need to do better, Arlie.”
I closed my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat. When I remained quiet, she said, “Hello? You there?”
“Yeah.”
She was quiet for a few seconds. “Arlie, he’s gone, isn’t he?”
“Yes. We’re still at Methodist.”
“Fuck!”
I was crying all over again as I stared at his body. He didn’t realize how his lifestyle had hurt everyone he loved in this moment. Daddy had talked until he was blue in the face and so had Mama.
“Are y’all going to your dad’s house after the funeral home gets him?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I have to go and get Majesty from daycare. I’ll see y’all soon.”
“Okay. I’ll text when we’re on our way there.”
“Thank you, Arlie.”
I disconnected the call, then texted Kimaji. He died, Maj.
My phone rang immediately, but I no longer had the emotional bandwidth to talk on the phone.
My cup was empty. I didn’t want to converse.
I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to process anything.
My internal server was refusing to connect anymore.
I stared up at my dad as he paced back and forth, then stood and kissed my brother’s head.
I needed space, so I walked out of the room and went to the waiting area.
Kimaji had sent a text message, but I didn’t want to even read it.
I didn’t want condolences. I wanted my brother back.