She put a hand on my shoulder, but didn’t stop me from continuing my rant. “I don’t care how Junior feels about Sonya. He’s wrong. I would never choose another person over this family, and you know I’ve been in that position,” I said, reminding her of the sacrifice I’d made when I had to kill Niles Monroe. “And I have never regretted my choice, Mom. I loved Niles, but family comes first.” I looked down to Daddy, the man who had instilled that valuable lesson in me ever since I was a child. “So I don’t understand how Junior can betray us for some girl he didn’t even know a year ago. I mean, am I the only one who thinks he needs to give that damn crazy man his wife back and move on? How the hell can he choose her over us?”
She sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Paris. I don’t know what your brother is thinking at the moment. I swear that woman must have some kind of voodoo or something, the hold she has over him.” She looked down and put her hand on Daddy’s arm, giving him a sad smile. “Then again, there was a time your father felt the same way when other people were telling him to stay away from me. I guess there’s no telling what a man will do when he’s in love.”
“It’s not the same thing,” I said, refusing to ignore what was right in front of our faces. “If it weren’t for my *-whipped brother, Daddy would not be in here fighting for his life.”
She shot me an angry look. “Paris, you will not talk about my son that way!”
Oh, Lord, I thought, rolling my eyes. There’s nothing more fierce than a mother protecting her son.
She went on, insisting, “Your father would want you to keep a cool head right now.”
“No, he wouldn’t.” I stood up. “I’m gonna go get some air. I’m sure you want to spend some time alone with Daddy.” I left, knowing I was incapable of saying what she wanted to hear.
Entering the waiting area, I found Orlando, Vegas, and Sasha. Orlando and Vegas were deep in conversation, but Sasha spoke up when she saw me enter the room.
“Paris, how’s Uncle LC?” she asked loudly, glancing at my brothers. They stopped their conversation as soon as they heard my name.
“How do you think he’s doing?” I snapped. “While y’all are sitting here talking about nothing, my father is in there fighting for his life, and there is not a damn thing any of you are willing to do about it.”
“It’s not that simple,” Vegas jumped in. As happy as I’d been to see him when he first came home from prison, I was growing sick of his “Let’s wait and see” attitude. It seemed like instead of prison making him hard, it had turned him into a punk. Even Rio would have been tougher than this.
“Yes, it is that simple. We should just kill these motherfuckers. Not like we don’t know who they are or why they’re doing this,” I reminded them.
“Why I got to be the motherfucking voice of reason?” he said, sounding thoroughly fed up with me. “You need to calm the fuck down, Paris. Don’t nobody know where Junior is.”
“And?” I challenged. “Who gives a fuck where he is? This is all his fault anyway.”
“And what if they got him?” Vegas asked. “If we act without thinking this through, they will not hesitate to kill him. And if you think Ma is upset about Dad, just imagine what Junior’s death would do to her.”
I was struck speechless for a second. I hadn’t thought about that possibility.
“Vegas is right.” Sasha had the nerve to open her big fat mouth.
“If I were you, I’d shut the fuck up. This don’t have nothing to do with you. That’s our father in there, not yours,” I snapped.
“Fuck you, Paris,” she shot back. “Did you forget that I already lost my father to the family business? So don’t try and tell me this has nothing to do with me. I have as much right to be here and to give my opinion as any of you,” she shouted before storming out of the room.
“See, you always got to say something stupid. I thought that motherhood would have calmed you the fuck down and given you some maturity, but I see I was wrong,” Vegas said.
To hear him coming to annoying-ass Sasha’s defense like that had me seeing red. What the fuck was wrong with my family these days?
“Oh, please!” I yelled. “You the one who got your ass sent to prison, so don’t call me stupid unless you looking in a mirror.”
Orlando finally stepped in to the fray. “Well, I agree with Paris.” He stood up and moved closer to me. You could have knocked me down with a feather. Orlando and I were never—and I mean never—on the same side.