How the fuck was I gone tell my momma this? How the fuck was I gone explain this to my father? Who was gonna keep me from spiraling and losing my fuckin mind behind this? My little brother who I was supposed to protect. He just couldn’t be gone.
Tyree walked up to us and looked each of us in the eye before he spoke.
"The prison is on lockdown because of a brawl that happened earlier," he said, his voice steady but heavy. "It was real bad from what I’m hearing. A man is dead. But it's not Zaire."
I felt something release in my chest. Not relief. Just a pause. A moment where the worst didn't happen. I wanted to believe the words coming out of this man’s mouth, but I was scared to exhale and he could be wrong.
"Zaire got stabbed pretty badly," Tyree continued. "He was transported to the local hospital about an hour ago. I pulled some strings. We can visit him for a few minutes but we gotta move quick. Before the guards switch shifts. We got maybe ten minutes or less once we get there. That should be enough time to see his face, his condition and ask a question or two."
Namier was already moving toward the door. He didn’t ask further questions, all he knew was that he needed to lay eyes on Zaire. I was with him on that.
"Come on," I said to Tatti. "Let's go, I gotta see my brother and make sure what your pops is saying is real.”
We loaded back up in the truck and headed to the hospital with Tyree leading the way in his car. The whole ride there, I was thinking about what happened. Who stabbed him. I already knew it was a hit sent by them Boyz, but I needed to know who actually stabbed my muthafuckin brother.
This shit made me question the even bigger picture. Way before this brick boy shit just popped off, my brother was wrongfully arrested. Why was Zaire still sitting in prison on a murder charge with no body and no witnesses.
This shit didn't add up, but what I was about to do was use this stabbing shit to get my brother the fuck up out of there! As my lawyer and as a nigga that owed me, I was about to demand that Tyree’s hoe ass pull the tightest strings he could around this muthafucka to get my brother out! ASAP!
But first, I needed to see my brother alive, then everything else would make sense.
—
We pulled into the hospital parking lot and I was moving before the truck even stopped. Namier was already unbuckling his seatbelt because he knew that we ain’t have even a second to waste. As soon as we jumped out, Tyree was getting out of his car with his phone to his ear, working whatever connections he had inside. He was making sure that we at least got a few minutes with our brother, and all I could do was hope for the best. I had no clue what condition he would be in when we got to him, I justwanted to see him alive. And I just wanted to know that he’d pull through and fully recover. That’s all a nigga could ask for.
We rushed out the truck and into the hospital. I looked back at Tatti and she was right behind me, keeping up with our speed. She was watching me with eyes that said she understood what was about to happen in that room. She knew I was going inside to see my brother and I needed her to stay right outside the room door. She knew this was about my blood, and it was something that I needed to handle. She nodded slightly like she was giving me permission to go handle this. To be a brother first. I trusted her not to run off or do nothing crazy. We weren’t at the point where I wanted to keep shackles on her anymore. We’d grown past that stage where I had to worry about her leaving this arrangement.
"Ten minutes," Tyree said as we rushed through the hospital doors. "That's all we got before the shift change and they lock him down again. He’s in room 405. Guard knows you two are on the way in. I handled it."
We didn't take the elevator. We took the stairs two at a time. Namier was right behind me, his breathing heavy, his whole body moving on adrenaline and relief mixed together.
When we got to the room, and the guard outside of his door nodded. We didn't knock. Just pushed the door open and went straight to the bedside. I walked in slow, not knowing what to expect or what I would see.
Zaire was laying there with bandages wrapped around his torso. Blood was seeping through. His arm was hooked up to an IV. His leg was elevated. But when he saw us, a weak smile spread across his face. This nigga was alive and all I could do was exhale after seeing this shit with my own eyes. After thinking my brother wasdead, this shit was unreal. I couldn’t even put this feeling into words right now. These pussy ass niggas thought they’d killed my brother, but I knew in my heart he was too solid to lay down like that.
Namier and I pulled stools up to each side of his bed. Mine on the left. Namier's on the right. I watched Na exhale a deep breath that he’d been holding. The relief on his face was real. His ass was in disbelief just looking at Zaire.
"How the fuck y'all niggas know I was here?" Zaire asked, his voice hoarse like his throat was fucked up. "I just got here a couple hours ago. Ain't nobody supposed to know shit about this. Let me find out y’all stalking me.”
He looked between us and his smile got bigger.
"Y'all muthafuckas been crying too?" he laughed, raising his brows like we were being weak. Like this whole situation was something to joke about.
"Nigga we thought you was dead, bitch," I said, my voice still holding that edge of rage and relief. "This ain't shit funny. This ain't no joke."
"Hell nah it ain't funny!" Namier cut in, his voice shaking. "We almost painted the whole damn city and the state behind this shit! We was bout to slump some shit. Hell, we still is!”
Zaire's smile faded for a second and he looked between us both like he was really seeing us for the first time. Like he was understanding the weight of what almost happened.
"What happened?" I asked, getting straight to it. "You know who did this to you?"
Zaire shifted slightly and winced, his whole face tightening with pain. But he pushed through it.
"Hell yeah I know who did this," he said. "The same nigga that I killed immediately after he did this shit. You know I wasn’t about to let a nigga get down on me like that and not get a first class trip to hell. The nigga name was Toolie from the bricks. That muthafucka came at me in the day room with a shank. I ain’t see the nigga coming or even know it was beef. He caught me in the blind spot away from cameras, so he had that shit planned. I ain’t expect that to go down, all I felt was that blade going in deep." He replayed the shit and shook his head.
"Right as I was going down," he continued, his voice getting colder, "one of my OGs rushed to me and handed me a shank. Told me that shit wasn’t about to go down like that today. So I came back up swinging. Got that nigga three times in his chest before I got his throat. Slit that muthafucka from ear to ear. I don’t know what that fuck nigga thought this was, but I know he in hell regretting his decision.”
I felt my jaw clench. Felt something shift in my chest. My little brother was in here fighting for his life and winning. Them niggas sent a hit and tried to get down on him, forgetting that he was a Carter. All I could do was be grateful that my brother had people on the inside who had his back. I made a mental note to look out for his OG that gave him that shank. I needed to keep that nigga commissary stacked up.
