Page 6 of Sire: On Your Knees

He shook his head. "Nothing, really. You on the way to check on Mir?"

I nodded. "Shit, you know it. I gotta make sure my youngin straight. His ass is still so gullible and hardheaded."

Lias chortled. "He reminds me of another young nigga I used to know."

I glared at him, knowing what he was trying to say. "That's exactly why I keep trying to steer him in another direction. I know all too well of the consequences."

His features softened as the truth settled in the air. "I know. He'll listen when he's ready."

"I pray this was enough of a wake-up call for him."

"For sure. Well, I'm headed out. I gotta see a woman about a water park."

I smirked, understanding the need to scratch that itch when it arose. I held my hand out, we hugged as men do, and then we stepped back into our personal bubbles. "For sure. Handle your business."

"I only know how to handle business." I waved him off. I'd been friends with Kalias since we were young boys growing up in the CCB culture. His father, Karter, was a close friend of my father's.

Once Lias walked off, I went through the back door. Walking to the end of the hallway, I steered to the right for the medical wing. When I burst through the doors, I found Tahmir lying in one of the beds, scrolling on his phone.

"Wassup, big bro?" he greeted me.

I walked until I was standing beside his bed. I extended my hand for our signature handshake. Afterward, he plopped back on the bed, resting his arms beside him. "How you feelin'?"

He shrugged. "Just happy to be alive, honestly." With a shake of his head, he admitted, "This is all my fault. I should've been on my square."

His words turned my mouth into a cotton field. I knew all about the consequences of not being alert. Coming from a family like ours, we didn't have the luxury of relaxing, especially in public. Enemies lurked around every corner, waiting for an opportunity to pop one of us. I was determined not to give them the satisfaction, which was why I gave up that party lifestyle. I didn't drink. I didn't smoke. Hell, I barely even smiled. It was straight business for me.

"Things could've been worse, but don't worry about that. I'm happy you're good." Pulling up a chair, I sat beside him. "Do you know anything about the nigga and bitch who got away?"

Mir ran a hand down his face in deep thought. "Not really. I don't know what the fuck they gave me, but it has my memory all out of whack. I hardly remember that night. Thankfully, I was unconscious, or I would remember the pain too."

I nodded, stroking my chin as I laid back in my seat. "I'm sure it didn't feel any better when you woke up."

He dropped his arms and nodded. "You damn right, it didn't. If I find the nigga who shot me, I'm going to make him wish he'd offed me."

"Not if I find him first." The vengeance in Mir's eyes reflected my own. "It won't be long now... The nigga said his name was Rico, though, and something about his sister."

Mir scratched his eyebrow. "Man, I fuck so many bitches and dump 'em afterward. It could be anybody."

I shook my head. "And you need to chill with all that. These women can be sneaky and spiteful. What you won't be doing is dying behind a bitch. Put a fucking lock on your dick before it gets you popped."

The door to the wing opened as someone walked in. My parents appeared shortly after. My mom walked over to me for a hug and kiss before turning her attention to her baby boy. I could see the worry lines on her forehead and hated the anxiety she must've been feeling. I was going to do whatever it took to ease her mind.

"Let me talk to you." My father, Bruce, addressed me directly.

I wanted to turn down his offer but knew it wasn’t optional. Standing slowly, I followed him out of the medical room to the private enclosed patio in the back. No one else was out there, so we had the space to ourselves.

Pulling a cigar from the square pocket of his crème linen shirt, my father sparked it up with a silver lighter. After a long pull, he released a ribbon of thick smoke into the air. I remained silent, waiting for him to press his issue. Since losing my sister, I haven't really had a relationship with my father. I understood he only tolerated me because I was his son, but he still resented me for what happened. Not that I could blame him. I fucked up, and it ruined us.

"Do you have any information for me?" he finally asked.

I kept my eyes on the trees in the distance. "Not yet."

He grunted with a nod. "I want the head of whoever is the reason my son is lying there covered in bandages."

I ran a hand down my face. "I know. I will find them if it's the last thing I do."

After a beat of silence, he said, "I don't like empty promises, JaSire."

---