Chapter 46

All my senses hit me at once when I wake up with my head on Caesar's chest. Afternoon sunlight pours in through the windows in his room. I curse myself for leaving the curtains open this morning. I love a good sunrise, but I can't handle the sun when its pressed high in the sky like it is now. I squint my eyes and turn over.

As soon as my head falls back onto Caesar's chest, a loud ringtone sounds around us. I groan as he pulls himself free from me. Our bodies are sweaty, sticky and wrapped in covers from sex earlier, so it takes him a moment to untangle himself from the web of sheets. Without the support of his strong chest to lay on, my mess of curls falls back into the space where he just was. I grudgingly grab a pillow and snuggle into it.

I watch him tap away on his phone as he rests against the headboard. I squint one of my eyes as I watch him.

"Who was it?" I ask.

"Daz," He says.

I perk my head up. I wasn't expecting that. It's only been two days since we last saw each other, but for some reason it feels much longer. I guess after spending almost every day with someone, two days apart can feel like a lifetime.

I wanted to see how he was holding up after the funeral, but after talking to Munch, I no longer felt like it was my place. He drew lines in the sand and made it pretty clear which side I stood on. I never got the chance to talk to Daz about it. I wonder if he feels the same way.

"What did he want?" I ask.

Caesar locks his phone and tosses it on the nightstand next to his bed. He settles into bed again without answering me. He grabs me and pulls me closer until I'm back on his chest. He closes his eyes like he's ready to fall back asleep, but I don't let him. I clear my throat and sit up. The time for sleeping is over.

Caesar's sighs as if I'm disturbing him. He keeps his eyes closed while he answers me.

"What you want me to say? I don't know, Candyce. I ain't answer," He says.

"I can see that, but why?" I ask.

"'Cause it's Daz," He says.

I cross my arms and wait for a real answer. Caesar peeks one eye open. He takes one look at the unwavering expression on my face and smacks his teeth.

"It's probably just a problem at the trap with Reese. He's 'posed to help him close up shop until we can find somebody to replace him."

"That sounds like he needs you, so again why didn't you call him back?" I ask.

"I don't appreciate you checking me 'bout another nigga in my own bed," He says.

I don't reward that with a response.

He could save the jealousy act. He may not know much about my relationship with Daz, Munch and Tory, but he knows enough to know that it's not like that between us. I think he still has his doubts about Tory, but so does half the girls at The Penthouse. Little did they know the only girl Tory had eyes for was right under their noses.

"Just answer the question," I say.

"I will if you tell me why you wan' know so bad," Caesar says.

"I haven't talked to him in a while. Not since Tory died. Not foreal anyway. I just wanna' make sure he's okay," I say.

"Y'all close right? Why you can't just call him instead of tryna' find out through me?"

My eyes flicker over to the wall. Guilt penetrates my abdomen. I would be able to call if I wasn't "sleeping with the enemy" as Munch would call it. I mean, I'm not entirely sure Daz has washed his hands with me, but considering he didn't call to check on me after I left the funeral, I'm assuming he has.

It's just better to leave it up in the air for now. As long as I don't know where Daz stands then I can pretend I still have someone on my side.

I clear my throat.

"I would, but I'm not sure he would answer," I say.

Caesar eyes me. There's a question hanging in the air, but thankfully he doesn't ask it. He's gotten really good at respecting my boundaries ever since I told him off before the funeral. He still thinks my business is his business, but he don't try and force it out of me, which is more than I can say for most men in my life.

"It's always lil' shit with Daz. He prolly just wanna' know if he should move the money and the weight to a safehouse or The Loft. If he think hard enough, he can put his two brain cells together and figure it out without calling me," Caesar says.

I shake my head.

"Back up a minute. I thought the business didn't get started again until after New Year's," I say.

"It don't. The coke runners never really get a day off though. They the only ones Ace trusts to move the product and money besides us, so he taught them to sleep with their phones on 'em. Think of them like on-call doctors with trap phones instead of pagers. We never know when we might need them, so they gotta stay ready, like today," He says.

It all makes sense now. I could never understand why Daz was always on the move. Even when it seemed like everyone else got a chance to chill, he was always running off somewhere. He constantly checked his phone when we were all together like he had somewhere else he'd rather be. Sometimes it was a desperate side chick wanting his attention, but for the most part, it was work that kept him busy. Tory used to tease him about it saying he was waiting for his daddy to call. Daz never entertained him. He was usually gone before Munch and Tory could really set in on him anyway.

"Why Daz though? I mean, he ain't the only cokerunner y'all have, so why you asked him to do it?" I ask.

Caesar closes his eyes again.

"'Cause believe it or not, he the best one we got," He says.

Finally satisfied with my game of 21 questions, I lay back down on Caesar's chest. I throw my leg over his and cuddle up next to him. I close my eyes, ready to get some Z's when Caesar's phone starts ringing again.

"Ughhh, just answer him," I say.

Caesar reaches over to grab his phone from the nightstand. He glances at it before sitting it back down.

"It ain't me," He says.

I sit up.

"It's mine?" I ask.

I follow the sharp shrill of the ringtone to the bottom of the bed. I scoot to the edge of it where the sound gets louder. I peer over the side of it. Our clothes are piled together in a small heap on the floor. They were on the bed at first, but after switching positions one of us must have knocked them off. I sort through them, but by the time I spot my baby blue phone case, the call has already ended.

"Who is it?" Caesar asks.

"I don't know. I missed it. It's probably just Si though. I told him to call me earlier," I say.

At least I hope it's him. I check the time on my phone as I unlock it. It's 3:15 pm. If it wasn't Simon, then I'll be worried, but I won't panic. He still has a couple of hours to get back to me before I start really worrying.

I pull the screen down to check my notifications. I'm surprised to see Daz's name in bright red letters. I press the green button next to his name, and sit up.

He must have a really important question to ask Caesar if he's calling me too.

But wait...how does he know I'm with Caesar?

"It was him?" Caesar asks behind me.

"No. It was Daz," I say.

Caesar sits up as well.

"What?"

"I know right. It's weird," I say.

"What he wanted?" He asks.

"I guess we would know if you just answered him the first time," I say.

The phone rings in my ear for a long time. Just when I think about hanging up, a faint sound comes through the speaker. It's so low I can barely hear it at first. I press the phone to my ear like that'll make it louder. It takes me a minute, but eventually I'm able to make out what the sound is. It's sounds like heavy breathing from a mile away.

"Hello? Daz?" I ask.

All I get in response is more heavy breathing.

"Daz?"

The line crackles with movement. Once the sound has settled, the breathing comes through clearer, and much slower than I heard before.

"Candyce," Daz says.

"Oh, thank God. You scared me for a second. Wassup?" I ask.

"Algiers," Daz says.

"What?"

"I'm in...Algiers," He says again.

That part I already know. I'm more concerned with why he's breathing like he just ran a marathon.

"Yeah, I know. Caesar told me you was helping Reese today. You okay?" I ask.

He doesn't answer right away. He pulls in a deep breath instead. I tense up hearing him struggle to pull in more air.

"What's goin' on?" Caesar asks behind me.

"That's...Caese? Tell him...we got...hit. The Algiers...trap," Daz says.

The color drains from my face. I jump out of bed and immediately start digging through the pile of clothes on the floor.

"Hit? What do you mean you got hit?" I ask.

"Red, put it on speaker," Caesar says.

I do as I'm told. I sit the phone on the bed while I look for the rest of my clothes.

"Daz, did the trap get hit or did y'all get hit?" Caesar asks.

There's a long silence on the other end of the phone. I stop searching for my clothes while I wait for his answer. I catch my breath waiting.

Eventually, Daz's voice comes through sounding exhausted and strained.

"Both," He says, "We both...got hit."

My heart jumps in my chest. Meanwhile Caesar leaps into action. He jumps out of bed and immediately steps into a pair of boxer briefs. I want to follow his lead, but searching for my panties on the floor is a lot harder to do while listening to Daz struggle to breathe. I blink back tears.

"Who all there with you, Daz?" Caesar asks.

"Every...body. Meech...Hasaan...Fai--"

Daz starts coughing up a storm before he can finish. Me and Caesar both stop what we're doing to stare at the phone. It's a matter of urgency, but we can't help pausing to make sure Daz is still breathing once his coughing fit ends. He is, but even more slowly if that's possible.

Caesar walks over and snatches the phone off the bed.

"What about Reese?" He asks.

A sickening feeling forms in the pit of my stomach. That's a good question. One I didn't even think to ask.

"He...he..." Daz starts.

I'm almost scared to hear his answer. Luckily, I don't have to. Caesar becomes impatient waiting for Daz to catch his breath. He throws the phone back on the bed.

"Fuck it. We'll find him when we get there," Caesar says.

We're quiet as we move around the room getting dressed. The only sounds are my heartbeat which I'm sure Caesar can hear from his side of the room, and Daz's ragged breathing. After a minute, his tired voice fills the room again.

"I...gotta...hang...up...Candyce," Daz says.

Panic shoots through me.

"Wait, what?! No!" I say.

I grab the phone off the bed. I cradle it between my shoulder and ear while I kick one leg inside my jeans.

"Daz, Daz. I need you to stay on the phone, okay? I'm on my way. Just stay with me," I say.

"I...gotta...call...my...son...I gotta...say...goodbye Candy..." Daz says.

He never calls me Candy. My name trails off his lips before he can finish saying it. If he's too tired to sound out my name, how the hell is he gonna' be able to hold on until we get there?

I try to hold back my tears, but one escapes down my cheek anyway.

This can't be happening. Not again. Not so soon.

"Red?" Caesar calls.

I don't look at him. I'm too choked up to speak, but I force myself to pull it together for Daz. I need to convince him to stay on the phone.

"Daz?" I ask. My voice shakes with tears.

He doesn't answer, but I still hear him breathing. That's as good a sign as any I guess.

"Candyce," Caesar calls again.

I hastily wipe my tears.

"I'm okay. We have to go," I say.

Caesar throws his T-shirt over his head without another word. Then he opens his nightstand drawer. I turn around to look for the creme sweater I had on earlier. When I find it peeking under the bed, I grab it and throw it over my head. When my head remerges, I see that Caesar is holding a silver gun. He jams a clip into it and cocks it back. A gun shell falls to the floor. Seeing him reminds me to grab my own gun. I fish it out of my purse.

Now fully dressed, Caesar and I face each other on opposite ends of the bedroom.

"Ready?" He asks.

I nod my head, still unable to form any words.

"Let's go then," He says.

He grabs his car keys, and heads out the bedroom door. I grab my phone off the bed before following him out. I can't help but notice his gun sticking out of the waistband of his jeans as I follow him. I follow suit and stick mine in the back of my jeans too.

We speed-walk down the hallway. I wanna' run, but Caesar's leading the way, and I don't think it would do us any good to run each other over, especially on the staircase.

Once we reach the living room, Caesar reaches back and plucks my phone from my hand.

"Where you hit at?" Caesar asks Daz.

I don't expect Daz to respond, but to my surprise, he groans.

"My stomach," He says.

I'm not happy to hear that, but I am happy to hear his voice. It's good to know that he's fighting. Although, I don't get a chance to be relieved. Caesar picks up his pace as soon as he hears what Daz says. I have to run to keep up with his long strides.

We rush out the front door without bothering to lock it behind us. He unlocks his car doors on our way over. We climb inside and Caesar wastes no time skirting off.

I put the phone on mute.

"Why did you rush out when he said he got shot in his stomach?" I ask.

Caesar glances at me. There's a sympathetic look on his face. It reads "I'm sorry for your loss in advance."

I swallow the knot of tears building in my throat. My heart starts racing faster than Caesar is speeding.

"I ain't gon' lie to you, Red. I've seen too many niggas get hit in the stomach and not make it long enough to see the inside of an ambulance, let alone a hospital," He says.

"But you got shot four times and you pulled through," I say.

Caesar nods his head.

"Some do. Daz gon' be straight, we just gotta hurry up and get to him. I won't know how serious it is until I see him. And we still don't know how Reese is doing," Caesar says.

I sit back in my seat, and close my eyes.

"You okay?" Caesar asks.

Before I can respond, Daz calls my name. He sounds more tired than before and we're still an hour's drive away from him not including traffic.

I take him off mute.

"Yeah, Daz. I'm here. I'm on my way. Just stay on the phone, okay? Just keep breathing," I say.

Daz mumbles something incoherent back. I don't care what it is as long as he keeps talking. I put the phone back on mute.

"We're never gonna' make it," I say.

Caesar looks over at me.

"Yeah we will. Just keep him talkin'," He says.

I sigh as I take the phone off mute again. I would be a little more hopeful if it wasn't for Tory dying this week. It's starting to seem like the harder I try to save someone, the more likely it is that they'll die. Calling me for help is like sealing your fate. Maybe that's why Daz called Caesar first.

"You still with me, Daz?" I ask.

Please say 'yes'. Please say 'yes'.

"Mhm," Daz says.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Good. Think about Kareem. Think about Vee. Think about Munch. He already lost one brother. He can't lose two," I say.

Caesar glances at me. By this point, the tears have fought their way to the surface. All I can do now is keep it from showing in my voice. I don't want Daz to realize just how serious this is. He already sounds tired. I don't want him to lose hope like I'm starting to.

"Just stay with me."

...

My leg shakes the entire car ride. Caesar swerves in and out of traffic, but we ain't getting there no faster. My phone sits idly in my lap. Daz stopped talking awhile ago. I don't know if it was too much for him to catch his breath and talk at the same time or if he lost so much blood that he passed out. I don't know anything except my friend needs me and once again I'm not able to help.

I failed Tory like this. I won't be able to live with myself if I failed Daz too.

In the spirit of making things right, I think about calling Munch. I'm not sure why he isn't already on his way to Daz's rescue, but if there's a chance for me to make up for the way I handled Tory's death, then I wanna' take it. I wanna' let him know what's goin' on with his brother. He deserves an opportunity to save him--an opportunity I denied him the first time.

I want to call him, but I don't want to risk hanging up on Daz even though he's not talking right now. And I doubt Munch will answer Caesar's call. So for now I do my best to handle the situation as best I can. I'm just hoping when it's all over, Much won't have another reason to hate me.

My mind is racing faster than my heart by the time we cross the bridge into The West Bank. Caesar must sense it 'cause he puts his hand on my knee.

"It's aight. Daz gon' be straight," He says.

"Is he?" I ask.

My voice shakes with tears. I look out at the water as we cross the bridge.

I sigh.

"I can't handle this, Caesar. I can't do this again," I say.

"You won't have to. Daz a survivor. How you think he made it this far without getting shot?" He asks.

I shake my head. I keep my eyes locked on the window as a tear escapes down my cheek.

"Look, Red, me and Daz butt heads so much 'cause he do everything he can to stay out of harm's way. He ain't really a front line type of nigga. If anybody gon' be straight, it's him. Trust me," Caesar says.

"Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?" I ask.

"It's not a bad thing. It just don't make for good character when you in the streets. But that's not the point, Red," He says.

"But he's not in the streets. Not really anyway. Not like you, or Ace, or..."

My throat closes at the hint of Tory's name. Caesar already knows what I'm getting at though.

"No, he ain't a killer if that's what you mean. That's my point though. Daz found a way to cheat the game. Every move he makes keeps him out of harm's way which ain't easy to do in the streets. But he do what he gotta do to survive, even if it mean getting on a nigga like me bad side every now and then. It's a quality that's gon' keep him around for a long time, so you don't have to worry 'bout him," Caesar says.

"And Reese?" I ask.

Last time I checked he was definitely a front line type of nigga. He's put himself in the line of fire for me on more than one occasion. If Daz being Daz could save his life, then what does that mean for Reese?

Caesar clenches his jaw & grips the steering wheel tighter.

"Reese's flight was for two," Caesar says.

I bite my tongue. He wants to believe the reason Reese hasn't answered his phone is 'cause there's no cell service on the plane. I want to reassure him like he did for me, but I can't. I know better.