“Okay, see you in a bit.”
He hung up the phone, and I rubbed my fingers through my hair knowing that this was just the beginning of a very long end game, but a game that I will ultimately win.
Chapter 12
Amir Quatar
I didn’t feel right leaving town without stopping to see my grandmother first. My father had her tucked away in a nursing home in East New York, so I drove over here to tell her goodbye, because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see her again.
When I walked into her room, I saw her lying there, a fraction of who she was when she came in, which almost made me shed a tear. The condition she was in up here by herself hit me hard. Mecca could have put her in a home closer to us, but he didn’t because he was always worried about enemies knowing our whereabouts. His scary ass was always making moves with that shit in mind.
Living in fear and paranoia just wasn’t the life I wanted to live anymore. How can you enjoy the wealth you built for your family if you are always worried about who’s going to take it?
I was technically supposed to be next in line to be the head of the Qatar family once Salah was murdered, but because my mother wasn’t married to my father, my whole birthright went out the window. It instead went to my knucklehead little brother Abraham, and that was just like putting the entire family on the chopping block. Abraham was wild, paranoid, and had the common sense of a drunk hanging outside a bodega all day. Allhe gave a fuck about was money and bitches, and not much of how the money was made.
Ever since my father told me I wouldn’t be next in line, I started looking at the whole family dynamic differently. I wasn’t important around there. I was just the mistake my father made in Cuba one weekend with a black chick that he still to this day won’t let me know. When she told him that she was pregnant with me, he made her think he was going to let me be raised by them both, before he took me and forced me on the family because I was of his blood. Still, I wasn’t of his blood enough to hold any real title around the Quatar family. I only did a lot of dirty work for the family while Salah and Abraham got the title and respect because their mama was the queen of the castle.
My grandma Hana was the only person in that family who treated me like I belonged. Hana had a heart and spent a lot of time with me, showing me how to be compassionate in a family full of niggas with no compassion. Her teachings were the main reason I decided to get that girl, Pernelle, and her baby out of that situation when my family snatched them up. I knew it was a death certificate for me in their eyes, but it was something I had to do. No real man harms a woman, especially not one carrying a baby. I had love for Salah, but killing an innocent girl and child wasn’t going to ever bring him back.
“Teta, it was good seeing you.” I leaned over her bed and kissed her on her forehead.
“Are you leaving now?”
“Yes, I have a long drive ahead of me.”
“You do? Where are you going, baby? Are you leaving New York?” Concern sat heavy in her eyes, but I didn’t have answers that would ease it.
“I don’t know where I am going, Teta, but I’ll make sure I keep in contact with you by phone. I just have to get away for a little while, but you stay strong and know that I’m always praying for you. Allah will see you through.”
She squeezed my hand tightly.
“Okay, baby. You be careful. And make sure you contact me soon, okay? I love you. You are the only one who visits me. I haven’t seen Salah, Abraham, Mecca, or any of them in months.”
“I know, Grandma. I will see you again soon. That’s a promise.”
I kissed her forehead once more and the top of her hijab.
She held my hand for five, maybe ten seconds, before finally letting go, and I walked out of the room knowing that might’ve been the last time I ever saw her. I hated to have just lied to her, but I also had a little hope forming in the back of my mind that I didn’t, and she would see me again. One day, when I don’t have to look over my shoulder to visit her.
When I stepped outside, the air felt colder. Like I was stepping into a freezer that had been blowing, but unopened for years. I jumped inside my car, cranking the heater up full blast as I pulled onto the road. I couldn’t spin out like I usually would because of the thick snow under my tires. This is what made me want to travel to somewhere warm, with good weather, maybe somewhere in the south.
When I reached the stop sign in front of the nursing home, I pulled up my GPS because I knew New York like the back of my hand, but getting out of New York was different. The only time I ever left was on a plane, and that was to go overseas with Mecca.
I typed in Jersey into the GPS because I figured I’d start there and then head west, far away from these pussy ass dummies that I called family.
As soon as I hit “go,” the light turned green, and I took my foot off the brakes to go, but then something powerful hit me. It flew through my windshield and slammed straight into my chest so hard, I lost control of the wheel instantly, and from the burn alone, I knew it was an ambush.
I tried to speed off, but more bullets tore into the car, and I got hit two more times before I lost control of the wheel completely and crashed into a light pole. The car smoked, and the radio was still playing,Help Me by Boston Richey, which was ironic as hell. I knew couldn’t shit help me right now but myself.
Everything was hazy, and my ears rang, with the pain flowing deep in my chest until everything went numb.
“Shit, fuck.” I grabbed a nearby hoodie from my backseat and held it up to the gunshot wound on my chest. While holding it there and trying to breathe, I suddenly heard Abraham’s voice.
“Yeah, you motherfucker. You thought we weren’t going to get you? I always knew you were a snake. A black snake coming from the womb of a black bitch.”
I knew right then. If he shot me again, I would be dead and I can't die by the hands of him. I always said when I die, I hope that it is a man much stronger than me, that does the task. One I will be okay with accepting defeat from, but I can't with Abraham. He's a pussy and no pussy mutha fucka was killing me.
Abraham was too busy talking shit to notice me pull the gun out that I had tucked on the side of my seat.
