Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(77)

“Positive.”

Pops sit back in his chair, stroking his chin. “Do you wanna take this . . . business on?”

“You know the code, Pops.”

“That’s not what I asked you,” he says.

All I gotta do is remember Dre slumped over his steering wheel to know what I want. “I can’t let nobody get away with it.”

“Then why you come all this way to tell me?” Pops says. “You don’t need my approval or my permission.”

I want it though. But if I said that, I’d sound like a li’l-ass kid who need his daddy. I can’t be that no more. Instead I say nothing.

Pops sit forward. “Listen, Mav Man. I been in your shoes plenty of times. I can tell you that it ain’t something you forget. Every time you close your eyes, every time your mind wander a little bit, you’ll be back at that moment. You sure you wanna deal with that?”

My eyes start to burn. “Dre was my brother, Pops.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He cup my cheek. A white guard bark at us ’bout contact, but this Latino guard tell him to leave us alone. It would take all of them to get Pops to let me go anyway.

“I’m here, man,” Pops says. “Daddy’s here. It’s okay.”

Them few words do me in. I say them to Seven all the time, but I ain’t heard them myself in years, and they everything I ever needed. “Dre should be here,” I blubber.

“He should be.”

“He deserved better,” I say.

“He did.”

“I wanna do this for him. I got to.”

Pops smile so sad it’s hard to call it that. “There were a lot of things I thought I had to do, too. Reality was, I only had to be there for you and your momma, and I failed at that.”

“Carter,” the Latino guard near us says. “That’s enough.”

Pops lift his hand off my cheek and sit back.

“I won’t give you the permission or the approval you want, Maverick,” he says. “You’re becoming your own man. This is your choice to make. You just make sure it’s one you can live with.”

Yeah, but what ’bout what I can’t live with? I can’t go on, knowing Red got away with murdering my cousin. I can’t.

Another loud buzz go off, this one signaling that visiting time is over. Inmates and their families stand and say their goodbyes around the room.

I only rise when Pops do. This time, he don’t hesitate to wrap me up in his arms.

His hugs got power. Nothing else exist beyond them.

Eventually, he have to let me go. He hold my shoulders. “Take care of yourself, a’ight?”

“You too, Pops.”

He turn around real fast. Not fast enough. I catch a glimpse of the tears in his eyes.





Twenty-Seven


Two days later, I’m ready to kill Red.

I close my bedroom door. Ma and Moe watch Waiting to Exhale in the living room for like the fiftieth time. Seven asleep in his crib. He don’t see me go in my closet and pull the Glock that King got me outta my FILA box.

I tuck it in my waistband and pull my hoodie over it. Red close up shop at the park once the streetlights come on. The park be pretty empty on Sunday nights, ’cause most of the homies watching whatever game on TV. Tonight it’s my Lakers versus the Supersonics. I’m taking a gray bandana to hide my face in case somebody walk by. From the park, I’ll run to the cemetery. I’ll toss my hoodie and the gun in the lake in the back. Then I’ll go home and go on with my life.

I got my plan, and I’m ready.

Yet my legs won’t stop shaking.

I grab the cordless phone off my nightstand and start to dial the number I done learned by heart, but I stop. Lisa know me real good. She’d figure out something is up quick.

I set the phone back down.

Ma and Moe cuddled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. The living room smell like the first bag Ma burnt. Ma go, “Show his ass, girl,” as the lady on the TV grab a bunch of clothes from a closet.

I lean against the doorway. “Ay, Ma? Can you watch Seven for a while? Lisa want me to bring her some food. You know how them pregnancy cravings can be.”

“Do I?” Ma says, eyes glued to the TV. “You had me craving ice cream all the time.”

“What’s your excuse now?” Moe asks.

“Hush!” Ma says, and they laugh. Moe kiss her to try to make up for it, but Ma go, “No. You gotta do more than that. We’ll keep an ear out for Seven, Maverick. Be careful out there, baby.”

Them words hit harder than usual. I swallow. “Yes, ma’am.”

I almost kiss her cheek, but that would seem like there’s a chance I’m not coming back. That’s not an option, just like getting caught ain’t. I throw my hood over my head and walk out the front door.

The Garden a different world as the night fall. Shadows start to creep in, and stuff that usually lurk in the daytime suddenly ain’t gotta lurk. Stray dogs, crackheads all making their way out. It’s way quieter, but that just mean when a siren blare or a bullet blast, it’s loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

I hope that wherever Dre is, he hear the gunshot when I pull the trigger and know that his li’l cousin always got his back.