Aftermath

Brina

“You sure you don’t wanna take any pain meds?” Shad’s voice is drowning in concern.

He’s sitting on the floor while I braid his hair. His hair has been long and thick since the first time I braided it years ago, back before we knew how much we’d all mean to each other. 

A lazy smile pulls on Casey’s face as he regards his little brother. “I got like thirty minutes before this Tylenol PM knocks me out. I’ll be straight.”

I can count on one hand the amount of times Casey has had a sip of alcohol. He only ever smokes. At first I thought it was because of his family history. A lot of people who have addicts as parents live a straight edge lifestyle.

But after I found out about his accidental overdose, he admitted to me that his body can’t handle anything stronger than an over the counter pain pill. Everything else, including recreational drugs and alcohol, hits him twenty times harder than the average person.

Putting him in a medically induced coma was both necessary for his healing, and could have killed him anyway.

I’ll never stop thanking God and our ancestors for getting him through.

“You’ve been shot five times now. Yo ass don’t need to make it a sixth.”

“Five times?!” my eyes stretch at my man. I couldn’t have heard that right.

Casey sighs, rubbing his growing curls. “Niggas talk too much, Dub.”

“You don’t talk enough! When the hell… where the hell…?”

Casey rolls his eyes and settles more into the bed. “Aight. First time I was like ten. Shit grazed my side. When I was sixteen I got shot in my arm pushing Turk out the way. And then I got clipped cleaning out the Birch while you was hiding out in Henderson.”

I abandon Shad’s hair completely and narrow my eyes. “You never said–”

“Because I’m still here, mama. A pussy nigga not gone be the reason I go to the other side. I’m leaving how God intended–”

“Stop,” I interrupt him, giggling. This fool loves to say we’re gonna die fucking at ninety years old, and I know Shad doesn’t wanna hear that.

Casey smirks, licking his lips before shifting his gaze to Shad. “I need you to come help me for a few weeks. Brina still on bedrest and you know her ass not gone let me hire a nurse.”

Shad chuckles, making me pop him with my comb before I start back on his hair.

“Yeah, I got you.”

They make casual conversation as Casey’s eyes get lower and lower, until finally soft snores filter through the room. Shad’s shoulders have been rigid since he first sat down. He never told Casey about his mom and Raya, just like Casey never asked him where he’s been. 

“I’m glad you came back, sis. He needs you.” 

I finish his last straight-back and curl the ends around my finger with some styling foam. His hair reaches past his shoulders now, and in a minute I know he’s gonna ask me to cut some off.

“I need him, too. I need both the Washington brothers.” I wrap my arms around his neck tight.

“I’m straight, B.”

“You’re not. And that’s okay, too. I can hire a nurse–”

“Nah. Keeping busy will help. I can take care of my bro. You just make sure you and the babies are straight.”

I sigh, unwrapping my arms around him to pour mousse all over the top of his head. After securing the styling wraps, he leaves me and Casey to go back downstairs, closing the door behind him.

Most of our friends will probably go home, but Nut won’t. I’m surprised he’s not in here now, watching over Casey. 

The lives we’ve lived, you’d think we’d be desensitized to death. Used to it. Shit, welcome it. I know for a fact Casey’s not afraid to die. None of them are. They don’t want to, but they’re not afraid of it.

I’m deathly afraid. Terrified actually.

Terrified of dying. Terrified of the love of my life dying.

The fear squeezes my heart every time I look at my love. Every minute it grows, thick and muggy like a humid summer day. It clings to me now, moving my limbs until I’m climbing into the bed next to him.

Two weeks ago we were at the courthouse, and I was gazing into his clear gray eyes as he told me ‘til death do us part. We haven’t told anyone. I haven’t had the chance to. I’ve been too busy, questioning if the universe would join us just to snatch him away two days later, so violently, so abrupt.

My limbs are still not my own as I unlock my phone and scroll down to my brother’s contact. We never text. He prefers facetime, or popping up on me at work like he has nothing better to do. The last text was from over a year ago; pictures of me and my sister-in-law Nita I asked him to send me.

Me: Call me.

He reads it immediately, and seconds later my phone begins to vibrate. 

I turn away from Casey, ambling over to our balcony door as I answer.

Screams echo out of my phone before Mekhi goes into another room. He scowls as he angles his phone different ways trying to see behind me. “What’s wrong? Why didn’t you just call instead of texting me asking me to call? I hate when niggas do that shit.”

I shrug and bite the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know… I didn’t know if you’d be busy.”

His eyes soften immediately. “How many times I gotta tell you I’m never too busy for yo spoiled ass. How’s Set?”

“He’s good, he came home today.” I lick my lips and try to blink away the tears that keep materializing. “I need him out, Mekhi,” I whisper.

His face balls up in confusion before recognition dawns on him.

“You talked to him about that?”

“I’m talking to you. He won’t leave if there's no one here to step in his place, and he wouldn’t let any of Foe Dub handle the burden.”

“What am I supposed to do, baby girl? I was just tryna get you on out here, and now you want me to be over my shit and Kenton?”

He’s right. Mekhi finally listened to me and started letting Nita handle some Collective business, but he’s still stretched thin. It would be nothing to ask Daddy or Uncle Junior to step back in, but it’s a male ego thing. The reins have been passed. It’s on the new generation now, just like I’m slowly taking over Uncle Res’s accounts.

A door opens and closes in his background. “You’re missing the best part,” a feminine voice whines, and a smile breaks on my face before I can think.

“Baby Girl hit me,” Mekhi says, as my cousin True walks into the screen.

Even with blood-stained safety goggles on, she’s gorgeous. She’s got that trademark milk chocolate skin most Youngs have, Big Mama’s almond eyes, and naturally pouty full lips.

Her eyes stretch before a shy smile pulls at her lips. She snatches the goggles off before taking his phone completely. “Hey, baby girl.”

I’ve always been Baby Girl or Bri to my family. It started with Big Mama not remembering my name as an infant, and now I’ll be lucky to hear my full name twice a year.

“Hi, True.” If they’re together, then they must be in her Playground.

Don’t ask.

She rolls her eyes as her smile grows. My cousin hates her name for whatever reason. It’s so cute, girly, and really fits her real nature.

But since she’s a Young, and probably one of the most ruthless Youngs after Daddy, she goes by YT, a flip of her initials.

“It’s late. Why are you calling Khi?”

“She wants her nigga to step down, but he won’t without someone to take his place,” Mekhi answers for me.

True scrunches her nose. “Why do you want him to step down?”

I sigh, ambling over to the chair I was occupying before. “I can’t lose him, True. His heart’s not in it, but he’ll do it so no one else will have to. But I need him. Me and my babies need him.”

My chest cracks open as tears cascade down my cheeks. I set the phone down so I can wipe my face. Watching him fight for his life day in and day out showed me I’ll never run out of them, not where he’s concerned.

When it comes to his bros and his city, Casey doesn’t know how to be anything but selfless. But for once I need him to be selfish. I need him to let the rest of the world burn if it means he’ll be here, because I can’t do this without him.

“Hey, hey… come on, Bri. When you cry like that, it makes me extra stabby.” True pokes out her bottom lip, getting me to cough on a laugh.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“No need. You gave us a problem, and me and Khi will fix it. I’ll check in with you tomorrow, okay?”

I nod at my big cousin. Her smile is infectious, even when she slides on her goggles again. “Bye, True. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby girl.” She hangs up without giving Mekhi back the phone, and my next few breaths are a little easier.

Until Casey grunts in his sleep.

I abandon my phone in the chair and go back over to him, crawling back onto the bed. I made it work while he was in the hospital in the twin, but now there’s more room in our Alaskan King. I still crowd him though, on his left side, lifting his arm until I’m tucked up under it. This need to be around him has been multiplying since he told me he was the one who killed my ex. My black knight. The killer who stole my heart.

Casey has shown me time and time again that he’d do whatever, kill whoever, torch everything if it meant keeping me safe. And now I finally have a chance to show him I feel the same.

A soft knock sounds off before our room door opens and Nut walks in. He makes a beeline straight for Set’s side. 

“He’s sleep,” I mumble.

Nut nods, eyes still locked on his cousin. After a long moment, he shifts his gaze to me, and I see the same pain, relief, and worry that have been there for weeks. Casey being home, with none of the neurological deficiencies they predicted–save for nerve and muscle damage in his arm, hand, and fingers–does nothing for either one of us. Not with our looming mortality refusing to be ignored.

“Get some sleep… crybaby ass,” he mutters, before turning around.

“I love you, too, P.”

Nut stops, flashing me a rare grin before walking back out.

I settle more into Casey’s side, and in his sleep he pulls me even closer. I kiss his chest, wrapping an arm around his middle, and send one more thank you out into the universe, and then a prayer he’ll be able to get out of this fucked up game safe and sound.