Читать книгу Friend or Foe - Imani Black - Страница 10

Chapter 5

Brice

Brice didn’t know what else to say to his mother. Once again, just like before, her nerves were harried over his sister. Brice pinched the bridge of his nose and wished he had an entire bottle of headache pills to choke down. He had watched his mother go through so much over the years. She’d been a victim of domestic violence, she’d been discriminated against in the workplace, and she’d lived through close calls with almost losing both of her children to the streets. Brice wished he could save her from any more heartache.

He stood in front of his mother, helpless and speechless. He’d expected her to call him once she found out Ciara’s plan to run off to Vietnam with no friends or family there and no knowledge of any other part of the world but Brooklyn, New York. Brice knew his mother would be devastated, and he was right.

“I don’t know where I went wrong,” his mother said, wrapping her arms around her herself tightly. She moved aimlessly on her feet. “She will kill me of a heart attack, you know. That must be what she’s trying to do. But why? What have I done? What haven’t I done? I’ve dedicated my whole life to you both. What did I do wrong?” she said, flopping down onto her couch, too exhausted to keep moving.

“C’mon, Ma. You know you’ve done your best. Of course it wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do,” Brice said, walking over to his mother. “And no one is going to die of anything, heart attack included,” he said in his stern way of comforting her.

Brice was frustrated with everything his sister was doing, but he couldn’t show it. Once again, Ciara had them living under stress, day and night. It hadn’t taken that long to end up back here. Brice and his mother had been in this place before—scared, unsure, and lost for a solution when it came to her.

Brice sat down next to his mother and put his arm around her shoulders. He wanted her to know they were a united front, in it together.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Silence wasn’t Brice’s best friend when he was under any kind of stress. And, just like all of the other intrusive thoughts he struggled to get rid of, Brice was triggered. He closed his eyes and tried to shake it off, but again, his memory betrayed him.

* * *

Brice paced in circles on the same floor in his mother’s house. Beads of sweat lined up on his hairline like ready soldiers.

“Sit down for a minute,” his mother said as she fanned herself. Brice made her nervous. On top of her sixteen-year-old daughter being missing, his mother didn’t need his attitude and tension as another stressor.

“Why didn’t you call me on Friday? I’m a cop for goodness sake. You know how it looks for me to report my sister missing after she’s been gone three days?” Brice reprimanded her.

He immediately regretted his tone. Brice hadn’t meant to be so hard on his mother, but he’d gotten emotional because she’d waited so long when Ciara might’ve been in danger.

His mother began crying.

Brice shook his head and breathed out loudly. “Ma, I didn’t mean it. I’m just upset and nervous,” he apologized and put his arm around her shoulders.

When his mother called, Brice had been buried in evidence and paperwork regarding his case. The dead girl, Arianna Coleman, already had him on edge. Brice immediately sent three squad cars out to scour the streets of Brooklyn, looking for his little sister. His commanding officer had asked him to stay behind with his mother. They said Brice was too emotionally wired to be actively involved in the search for his own sister.

At that time, it was not like Ciara to run away. She was sixteen years old and had never stayed out overnight without permission to be at a friend’s house. And even that was rare.

Although he was looking for his own sister, Brice wasn’t able to stop thinking about what the mother of the victim in his case had said. Her daughter was a good student and wouldn’t have run away. But the mother had also noticed changes in her daughter’s behavior—coming home late from school, angry all the time—changes that were eerily similar to his sister’s. The entire situation made Brice’s stomach muscles clench. He wiped his hands down his face and held his head in his hands, trying to be patient while waiting for the search results.

Brice felt torn up inside, like he’d failed his sister and his mother. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen to his family. He had worked hard to get his mother out of the projects and into a nice brownstone in Bed-Stuy. He’d joined the police department to help victims and their families, not to become a victim’s family.

Finally, there was a knock on the door. Two familiar NYPD patrol officers stood there.

“What’s up, Simp?” one of the officers said, his tone sorrowful.

Brice stepped out onto the stoop to speak to them. He didn’t want to upset his mother any further, especially if it was bad news.

“What did they find out?” Brice asked, cutting to the chase.

“Man, her trail ran cold. She hasn’t been to school in a couple of days. Some girl at the school said a guy in a big fancy car came to pick her up on a few occasions, but she couldn’t remember the type of car or any other pertinent details,” the cop explained to Brice.

Brice reacted like a bomb had exploded in his head. He swayed on his feet and didn’t even realize it. He suddenly felt a rush of heat and got lightheaded. This was all his fault. He had become so consumed with his career that he hadn’t even realized his sister was in trouble.

“So y’all going to keep searching, right?” Brice asked, blinking rapidly to clear the black spots from his vision.

“Well, we will turn it over to midnights,” the other cop replied. “But we already searched the places you said she might be.”

“I want the whole fucking city combed! I don’t care if it’s street by fucking street. This is my sister. She didn’t run away!” Brice exploded and pushed one of the officers in the chest. The veins in Brice’s neck throbbed.

“Whoa, man. I will pass on the message,” the lead cop said with finality and then turned to leave.

Brice punched at the air. His head pounded. He needed more information. The mystery of it all had been driving him crazy.

What happened to make my sister change so suddenly? What is she trying to hide?

Brice tried to compose himself before he went back inside the house to speak with his mother. He knew she would have a million questions, and he needed to find the answers fast.

He stormed back into the house, rushing past his mother. He’d decided against milling around, talking to her any longer. Before his mother even had a chance to fire a single question, he stormed straight for Ciara’s bedroom.

Banging open the door, Brice pillaged through his sister’s personal effects like a man possessed. He opened dresser drawers and threw clothes left and right. He went into the closet and pulled clothes off hangers and dumped the neat stack of sneaker boxes, looking for hidden clues. He even got on his knees and looked under her bed. When his efforts turned up empty, he pulled the comforter and sheets from the mattress and even examined the mattress itself to see if anything had been stashed inside or underneath.

He began to tremble all over. His anxiety caused him to start coming apart mentally. But that didn’t stop him from continuing his search.

Brice walked to Ciara’s desk and emptied out the drawers one by one. Papers sprinkled over his feet like large snowflakes. Brice pulled the last drawer out and spotted Ciara’s diary. He bent down and picked it up and noticed that it was locked.

“Fuck this,” Brice grumbled, picking the lock with his pocket knife. With the sharp metal edge, he cut the small piece of leather that connected the lock with the book pages. He flipped through the pages of the diary and finally found a page that piqued his interest. Brice’s heart sank when he read the lines: He said he loved me. He said he is going to make me a star.

Brice felt like someone had kicked him in the heart. He dropped the book and raced out of the room, straight past his mother.