The sun was shining brightly and his body was still buzzing from Meridian’s treatment last night; but as he gazed down at Evan’s headstone, he could feel the grief trying to overshadow the happiness he’d found.
“I’ve gotta go now, Ev. And I don’t know if I’ll be back any time soon.” Ex clenched his teeth when he felt a wedge of guilt lodge in his throat. “I know I failed you... so many times. And... and I’m sorry.”
He stayed there for a while longer as he apologized for all the times that Evan had asked him to come home, but he hadn’t. For all the times he’d said he was busy and sent him a new electronic gadget instead of being a big brother. He even apologized for staying with Meridian at home instead of sneaking away to Atlanta every chance he got. Ex held his tears in check as he read his baby brother’s gravestone one last time.
Evan Clifford Martin
November 4, 2001
December 29, 2019
Beloved Son and Brother.
“I’m sorry I left you all so soon. But as sure as the sun rises in the east, I will see you all again.”
“Until I see you again, pipsqueak.” Ex kissed his two fingers then gently touched the top of the cold, black marble. “Don’t cause too much ruckus up there.”
He wasn’t a praying man, but he paused and bowed his head in silence as he allowed acceptance to settle into his mind. His brother was gone, and his mother was moving away. All he had was the man who was watching him from fifty yards away, and his love was great enough to make up for all he’d lost and more.
Ex got into the back of the large black Suburban and went straight into Meridian’s open arms. He wasn’t ashamed of needing that contact, of needing the support. Meridian wasn’t much of a hugger but he held on to Ex tightly, because he knew he needed it. Ex buried his face in Meridian’s neck and breathed until his head didn’t feel like it was splitting open.
“Come on. Let me get you home,” Meridian said.
Ex was quiet as Slade drove them through the city towards the Amtrak station. Before he could turn onto Golden Gate Drive, Meridian’s phone buzzed in his breast pocket. He flipped open the phone and read the message before he bit out for Slade to change directions.
“Get us to Ruxsberg and Green’s place as fast as you can,” Meridian said calmly.
“What is it?”
“It was God. All it said was 911.”
“Shit. Joseph is supposed to record his testimony today.” Ex reached into the back of the SUV and began to unpack a few of their supplies. If God’s team needed them, then they were going to be there.
Ex was glad they were only six minutes away, because when they got to the block they saw several men with guns drawn at the front of Ruxs and Green’s two-story loft, and a blacked-out SUV idling at the corner. The house had taken a few hits already and he could see Green peeking through the blinds of the first floor window and Ruxs on the second level.
“Those are the Warlords. I recognize their colors. It looks like Evan’s shooter has come to ensure his witness doesn’t make it to testify,” Slade said as he backed up and made a U-turn so they stayed undetected. “What y’all wanna do?”
“How long until God and his SWAT team get here?” Meridian asked as he assembled his own T91 long-range assault rifle.
“According to the scanner a few members of his team are already here but God and his SWAT team are about eight minutes out,” Slade said with his earpiece in his ear.
“Fuck. This damn thing could be over in three minutes. Mere, I’m gonna climb a perch. I’ll get rid of the men in the front so they can get the kid out of there. We know who’s in that SUV. I want you to stay on it and take it out when it’s time.”
“Roger that.”
Ex slung his three-foot long rifle over his shoulder when he got out of the truck. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered.
“I’ll see you soon,” Meridian answered.
Ex darted up the street, ignoring the few gawking pedestrians as he made his way to the best vantage point. He heard sirens and the squealing of tires as he double-timed it into the building across from Ruxs and Green’s home and quickly made his way to the rooftop. When he exploded through the access door, a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties spun on him, aiming a police-issued Glock at his chest. Ex met the man’s brilliant blue eyes as recognition of who he was set in.
“You’re one of them... aren’t you?” Detective Michaels asked.
“Correct,” Ex said sternly then took up post beside God’s sniper. “Get in position.”