I Will. (Urban)

29

"Whatchu' want me to say, man? It's like you not tryna hear nothin' that's comin' outta my mouth. Just talk to me."

At that last part, I felt my eyes watering. After everything he went through for me, I couldn't even act right, whatever 'right' was supposed to be. I bit my trembling lips, trying to find the words that could represent how I felt.

"I--I-- Why didn't you tell me that Ma was... gone?"

"Shit got busy, and that's not some you'd say over the phone. I was gonna tell you, I just had to work through it too," he frowned.

It was a lie. He was never going to tell me that he killed her because he tried to protect me from everything. The only reason he had to was because Jordan had accused him of doing it, and he wouldn't lie about that. Raheem knew I would ask. If not for Jordan forcing his hand, he probably would have lied to me about it. Just like he's been lying about ordering our brother's death.

"Are you... okay?" Not the greatest question, but I really was worried about him.

He scoffed, pointing towards his body. "How you think I am wit' all these holes and bullets and shit in me?"

He was in a wheelchair for now, but the medical staff treating him said that it was temporary and that he'd be walking again within a few moths. Bennett was able to get him some more comfortable clothes, too, which seemed to brighten his mood. Today he was wearing a tech suit and some slides, looking more like himself than he had in a minute.

The safehouse where we were at didn't have many windows, and Raheem definitely looked sun deprived. He was pale from that and the blood loss, and his cheeks were more hollow than they were before. Bags settled under both of our bloodshot eyes from too many days without sleep and nights spent crying until the tears dried up.

"Forreal though, I'm straight. None to see here," he smiled slightly. "As long as you safe, that's all I care about, D."

Another lie. He was depressed, in pain physically and mentally. I knew because I was experiencing the same thing. And we had the chance to be there for each other, share in this pain and choose not to forget anything together. But a space seemed to have grown between us, and I don't know how to fix it.

I guess the only way to do it was to face it head on.

"Rah?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you to stop lying to me. Stop tryna protect me from everything," I choked out.

"Whatchu' mean?"

"You know what I mean."

He held my gaze and I didn't look away. "Whatever you gotta say, just say it. Directly."

I gulped, fighting back tears. "You made Bennett promise you that he'd kill Jordan, even after he promised me we'd do it my way. Why lie? Why keep that from me, even now?"

He smacked looking away. The gesture frustrated me even more. "You always keep so much from me and I don't get it! I thought we was in this together, but you lie to me every chance you get. I can't--"

"You can't what, Domonique? I don't tell you shit because you can't handle it--"

"Yes, I can!"

"No, you can't! This," he waved all around us, "Ain't yo life. You green as fuck walkin' around here thinkin' you know what's best when you don't know shit. I had to make some tough decisions 'cause unlike you, this is my life. I been runnin' around in them streets for longer than any nigga you can name."

"So yeah, D. I had to do some shit that I rather not have did. I killed Ma, I asked Bennett to get Jordan fa' me too. Because unlike you, I'm not dumb enough to think that it was any other way out of this besides them dying. You think I wanted them dead, man?" He winced, like he was remembering something painful. "That ain't nothin' you wanna see."