Brother to Brother: The Sacred Brotherhood Book I (11 page)

Mel looked up at Doc; a disarming mix of wide-eyed and dumbfounded while he pulled some latex gloves out of a box on the wall, slipping his hands into them. “He was running,” she said, “I told him to stop but he tripped and hit his head on that metal door thingy before I could get to him to make him stop,” she said and Doc looked at her funny.

“Metal door thingy?” he asked.

“Strike plate,” I said.

“You saw it?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I lied. I’d heard everything; that was close enough. Mel looked startled but kept her mouth shut. The admin nurse and the security guard wandered away when Doc waved them off.

“Let’s have a look,” he said rolling over a stool and pulling the paper towels away. “Oh yeah, see that’s not so bad. If he were a little bit older, I wouldn’t even stitch it, I’d just put a couple butterfly bandages on it, but given he’d likely just pull ‘em off… Let me have a nurse set up a suture kit. You hold this here, like you been doing and I’ll be right back.” He pressed a thick square of fresh gauze over the cut and threw the paper towels away before stripping off the medical gloves he’d put on, and throwing them in the trash right behind the bloody mess.

Noah was quieting down and sat huddled against Mel who held him like somebody was going to snatch him any second. She mouthed ‘thank you’ over his light blond curls and I nodded. A nurse came by a few seconds later with a tray full of the goods Doc was going to need.

Noah screamed bloody hell when Doc gave him the shot of the numbing agent. Melody looked green and I asked her if she wanted me to take him. She remained mute, but adamantly shook her head. Stitches went it, one and two and the boy was all done. Doc slapped a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid over the cut and he was done. It really wasn’t nothin’.

“Might want to get him some pediatric drink, he might be a little dehydrated from the diarrhea you said he had and all this cryin’.”

“I’ll do that,” Mel said quickly.

“And for you, I’m prescribing a glass or two of wine or a margarita or something,” he looked up at me, “Think you can handle that?”

I gave a sharp nod, “I believe I can,” I told him and held out my hand. We shook, and he gave me a lopsided grin.

“Y’all need to stick to seeing me at the club,” he said and I nodded again. I could do without this shit and Mel looked like she was shattered into a million fuckin’ pieces.

“We’ll do that, too,” I said.

“Go on, then. Get on out of here.”

“Thank you, Doc,” Mel said and she sounded bottom of her heart grateful.

“I got no problem takin’ care of family,” he said and with that, he left us.

I took Mel and Noah home, and left ‘em just long enough to go get some of that drink shit at the drugstore, like Doc recommended. By the time I got back, Noah was napping in his crib and Mel was sitting on the edge of the couch staring at him.

“You need to go get a shower, and come on back out here and have a drink,” I uttered.

“Do you think the hospital is going to call child services?” she asked.

I snorted, “No.”

“Am I a horrible mother?” she asked and tears leaked out of her eyes, she still hadn’t looked at me. Her gaze locked on her sleeping son.

“Naw, I’d say you’re a damn good mom,” I said.

“You really think so?”

“What I really think is you need a hot shower and to take the medicine the doctor prescribed you. I picked up your favorite Tequila along with his juice stuff.” She finally looked at me and I said, “It’s pretty bad when the clerk rings you up and says ‘I know exactly how you feel.’”

Nothing. Not even a smile. Just that vacant, traumatized stare. I sighed and gave her an order, “Mel, I’ll watch him, go take a shower.”

She got up as if pulled by strings and floated over to the doorway leading into my room, she stopped and looked down at the strike plate, her shoulders bouncing once, twice, a third time before she rushed into the bathroom and closed the door. I could hear her crying but sometimes, with bitches, that’s all they needed was to cry it out, so I left her to it while I went and grabbed a couple of shot glasses down. I took one shot while she cried, and downed another when the shower started up.

“Well, that escalated quickly,” I muttered to myself, my own eyes locked on the sleeping boy. I didn’t know what to think, the fact that the whole thing had jump started my heart as hard as it had.

Maybe it was more like I didn’t want to admit how much I was beginning to feel. Not just for Noah, but for his mother too.

Shit.

Chapter 15

Melody

A month or more had passed since the incident with Noah and his stitches, and my little boy’s cut had healed admirably. His first permanent mark was forever etched in a straight notch through his eyebrow, however. When he was older, it would probably make him look more edgy, perhaps even devilish, the way his father had looked. Grinder very nearly had the same scar, only on the opposite side, though his story had been much more sinister at how he had arrived at it.

I wish I could say that I was fully recovered from the incident, but after my hot shower and a shot of tequila which Archer had insisted I take on the doctor’s orders, I had slept and I had slept hard and well. However, all good things must come to an end and I think that was the
last
good night’s sleep I’d had since.

Archer was barely at the apartment at night, and even so, I swear he could sleep through just about anything short of a nuclear bomb blast. It was as if he and Noah were father and son in that regard. My little boy could sleep through just about anything too. I envied them their particular superpower.

If it wasn’t the Charger out front, it was one of the neighboring apartments. If it wasn’t music, it was the couple in apartment number two downstairs and to the right of ours. They fought near constantly and their screaming should have been heard for miles. I was exhausted, I wanted sleep, I wanted sleep so bad I cried very nearly every night until it found me… because let’s face it, I very rarely, if ever, found
it.

I blame my total lack of sleep on the monumental mistake I made coming back to the apartment that day. It was sunny, and warm. Unseasonably warm according to the radio. I was loving it. Except for the fact the air was so humid as compared to the dry desert heat of Arizona, it was very nearly just like being home.

I had gone to the grocery store to pick up just a few items and I had them tucked in the crook of one arm against my hip, while I had Noah in the other, equally balanced on the other hip as I kicked the back door of my sad little hatchback closed. I didn’t even bother to lock it. There wasn’t anything worth stealing in it. It didn’t even have a CD player, but rather the factory radio and a broken tape deck. I figured if anyone wanted to go through it
that
badly, they could have at it; I might as well save myself the broken window which I wouldn’t be able to afford to get fixed anyways.

I was saving my
ass
off for first, last, and deposit on a place for me and Noah that was anywhere but here, and like I said, I blame the lack of sleep when it came to my frayed rope and what happened next. I was headed towards the stairs up to the second floor when the owner of the Charger started blaring his bass heavy rap music and without even thinking, my last thread of sanity snapped.

“Oh will you give it a fucking
rest
already! You know there are people who actually live here who would like to
sleep
every once in a while,” I said over my shoulder.

The owner of the car stood up straight out of the car and turned, “What did you say to me you fat white bitch?” he demanded and I carried on up the stairs.

“You obviously heard me just fine,” I called back crossly and the young man, probably younger than even I was at a mere twenty-eight, started up the stairs in my direction. I dropped the groceries and fumbled the keys into the lock, my hand shaking while Noah stared at the man with wide innocent eyes.

“Oh I
know,
you ain’t talkin’ to me that way, I’m about to teach yo ass some respect! What you think you doin’ talkin’ to a nigga like that?” I shoved open the door and went to slam it into his face but I was too late. He kicked in the door and cradling Noah in my arms I protected him with my body as we both went down.

My son shrieked in terror and I heard my voice echo his as the man towered over us both and I went sprawling into the living room of Archer’s apartment. Noah struggled out of my grip and crawled away, sitting up. His voice rising in a panicked cry I could do little to comfort because the gangbanger standing in the doorway had all of my attention.

I put my hands up and beseeched him, “Please, not in front of my son, don’t shoot me in front of my son.”

“Oh I might shoot you bitch, but I got a different lesson in mind,” he said, licking his bottom lip and grabbing his crotch with his other hand. I felt myself blanch.

“I’ll do anything you ask, just please, not in front of my son.”

I started to cry, the tears of pure terror slipping down my cheeks, and I did nothing to wipe them away. I was frozen, adrenaline pounding through my veins with every heartbeat. I wanted to pick up my son, but I didn’t dare move. The man smiled, his deep ebony skin making his teeth seem so very white, the metal in his mouth from several gold teeth gleaming. I would say his smile was like the Cheshire cat’s in a way, however it was far too malevolent for that. I was staring pure evil in the face and I found myself silently praying to Grinder, to God, and to anyone else who would listen, to give me the strength and cunning to get my son and I both out of this intact.

“Take off them panties,” he ordered and I broke into a sob.

“Please don’t, not in front of my son!” I begged and he cocked the gun shoving it forcefully in the air in my direction.

“I suggest you do what I tell you and maybe I won’t!” he shouted.

I shook and moved mechanically to comply. I was still in my work uniform, which was a little light turquoise 1950’s dress with white apron and white accents at the collar and short sleeves. They were paired with white ankle socks and white Chuck Taylor sneakers and fit the diner I worked at. I had loved the uniform when I started, but right now, sprawled on my butt in the living room with the short, mid-thigh length skirt riding up after my tumble, I loathed it for giving this creature the perverse idea to rape me in front of my
child
.

I shimmied my white cotton underwear midway down my thighs while the perve pointed a gun in my face and I was about to resign myself to my fate when he froze and looked like he was about to shit himself. I stopped and it was Noah’s screaming cry of “Unca Atcha!” that let me know who was behind the thug.

Archer took a slight step to the right and I could see him framed in the open door, a gun of his own pressed into the close shaven scalp of our assailant, a calm, but angry look on his face. He nudged the man’s scalp and said, “Hand over your piece before I redecorate the inside of this place with your face.” The man put up his hands and Archer took the gun, shoving it into the back of his waistband.

“What the fuck you think you doin’ in here? Huh?” Archer demanded.

“Man, I was teaching yo bitch a lesson!”

“Yeah, well, you don’t teach my bitch
anything
, that’s my job.”

“Well you need to teach her some respect, you dig?”

“Well you need to get the fuck out of my place and let me handle these things,
you
dig?” Archer demanded back, pressing the gun barrel harder into the man’s skull, moving to the side to let him switch places and to put him closer to the door.

“Man, you is makin’ a mistake comin’ at me like this,” the Charger’s driver said, and Archer cut him off.

“Shut the fuck up! Don’t think I don’t know who your fuckin’ boss is. The only mistake
you
made was coming into a Sacred Heart’s place. Somehow I don’t think that’s a can of whoopass you’re going to want to open. Now you might want to get the fuck out, before I change my mind about redecorating.” Archer said coldly.

I swallowed hard, and the man changed his tune but only slightly, upon hearing the club’s name…

“Alright, alright, we cool, we cool. I’m leavin’. What about my gun?”

“Consider it the cost of doing business,” Archer said, and he already had the man almost halfway out the door, “Newsflash for you, Slick. You tell your homies and the rest of your crew that this apartment, everything and every
one
in it, is
mine.
You get me? There won’t be a next time for any of this shit either.”

He then shut the door in the gang banger’s face and turned to me, asking softly, “You alright?”

I pushed to my feet, bile rising in my throat and gasped out, “Take care of Noah,” before I stepped out of my panties and practically ran for the bathroom, slamming the bedroom door behind me. When I did, I saw Archer picking up my son and cradling him against his chest the way any protective father would.

I threw up, and I don’t remember much, but the next thing I
did
remember was sitting on the end of Archer’s bed hugging myself, knees tightly together, one hand pressed over my mouth as I sobbed while trying valiantly to make no noise so my child wouldn’t hear. Archer came in the room and I saw past him that Nox and Rush had Noah. I only caught a glimpse before Archer closed the door but it was enough to send me into more sobs as the adrenaline wore off and I crashed and burned.

Archer sat down next to me and did something unprecedented. He put his arms around me and tucked me tightly into his chest. He breathed out a heavy sigh and pressed his lips to the top of my hair.

“You should have killed him,” I said voice cracking.

“Oh, I’m going to, but I need to go about it the right way,” he said and I knew he was completely, one hundred percent serious, however, I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but relieved.

“When you calm down, you can tell me what happened but right now, just shhhh,” he soothed and it was just so
nice
of him and completely out of the ordinary. I was grateful for the reprieve though, so I just soaked it up while I could and let myself calm down.