Zephyr
My brother thought this shit was over. Thought we could shake hands with Quest at a cigar bar and sip Banks Reserve and pretend like everything was good. Like my legs worked. Like I could stand up and take a piss without somebody helping me. Like I could pick up my daughter without my arms shaking from overcompensating for everything below my waist that didn’t respond anymore.
Mekhi was a lot of things but he was a fool for thinking peace was an option. Peace was for people who still had something to lose. I’d already lost it. My legs, my independence, my dignity. Quest and his family took all of that from me the night those Vipers walked into his casino and started shooting. I didn’t pull the trigger and they were there because of him. Because of his business, his enemies, his world. And I was the one paying for it every morning when I opened my eyes and couldn’t feel the sheets on my feet.
Bella came into the living room with my daughter on her hip. Amara was two with her, arms out, fingers grabbing at the air, wanting her daddy to pick her up. And every time she did that it split me open because I could hold her if someone put her in mylap but I couldn’t stand up and lift her off the ground and swing her around the way I used to. I couldn’t chase her. I couldn’t carry her. I couldn’t even get down on the floor and play with her without needing help getting back into this chair.
“Did you eat?” Bella asked. She had that tone. The one that was really asking are you okay but knew better than to use those words because I’d stopped answering that question months ago.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Zephyr, you need to eat something. You barely touched breakfast and it’s almost three.”
“I said I’m not hungry, Bella.”
“Fine.” She shifted Amara to her other hip. “Your physical therapist called. You missed your appointment this morning. Again. She says if you miss one more she’s dropping you as a patient.”
“Then let her drop me. Ain’t nobody’s exercises bringing my legs back. She knows it. I know it. Everybody knows it but nobody wants to say it out loud because y’all think I’m fragile.”
“Nobody thinks you’re fragile, Zephyr. We think you’re angry and we’re trying to help.”
“I don’t need help. I need everybody to stop acting like this wheelchair is something I’m supposed to accept. I’m not accepting shit.”
“So what are you gonna do? Sit here and be mad for the rest of your life? You have a daughter, Zephyr. She needs her father present, not just in the room. Present.”
Something in me snapped. “Come here,” I said, low and calm. She hesitated but she came because she always came when I used that voice. She leaned down to my level with Amara still on her hip and I slapped her across the face so hard that Amara started screaming before Bella even registered what happened. She stumbled back holding her cheek and looking at me with eyes I’ll never forget. She wasn’t shocked. She was disappointed.Like she’d been praying I wouldn’t become this man and I just proved her prayers wrong.
“Don’t tell me what my daughter needs,” I said. “I know what she needs. She needs a father who can walk. And since I can’t give her that, I’m gonna give her something else. I’m gonna give her a father who isn’t weak. Who doesn’t let niggas take from him and smile about it.”
Bella didn’t say anything. She carried Amara, who was screaming now, to the back bedroom and closed the door. I sat in the living room alone and stared at my hand and felt nothing about what I’d just done because there was no room left inside me for guilt. Rage had taken up all the space.
My phone buzzed. A text from a number I’d saved three days ago under a fake name.
Downstairs. Black Escalade.
I wheeled to the elevator. The building was wheelchair accessible because Mekhi had made sure of that when he set up this apartment for me. My brother took care of the logistics. He just wouldn’t take care of the problem.
The Escalade was parked at the curb with tinted windows and the engine running. The passenger door opened and a man I’d never seen before helped me out of the chair, folded it, and put it in the back. He lifted me into the backseat without a word. Professional. Efficient. Cartel-trained.
Rodrigo Rios was sitting across from me. He looked like his brother but harder. Same dark features, same expensive suit, but the patience that Mateo carried was missing from this man’s face. Rodrigo didn’t study people. He decided about them quickly and moved on. I could see it in his eyes. He’d already decided about Quest. The only question left was logistics.
“My sister-in-law told me everything,” Rodrigo said. His accent was thicker than Mateo’s. “The man who killed mybrother threatened her child. A seven-year-old boy. You understand what that means in my family?”
“I understand.”
“Good. Then you understand why I’m here and what I intend to do.” He looked at me with those flat, dark eyes. “I’m told you have information that would be useful to me.”
“I’ve already told your people everything I know. Schedules, security, properties, operations. All of it. Whatever I had, they have.”
“And your brother? Does he know about our arrangement?”
“My brother thinks a handshake and a cigar fixed everything. He’s wrong. And by the time he figures that out, it won’t matter.”
Rodrigo studied me for a moment. Then he nodded once and something that wasn’t quite a smile crossed his face. “You’re angry. Good. Angry men are useful. Just make sure your anger stays pointed in the right direction.”
“It hasn’t moved since the night I got shot.”
“Then we understand each other.” He extended his hand and I shook it. His grip was dry and cold and held for exactly as long as it needed to. “My people will be in touch. When the time comes, you’ll know.”
