Memphis Streets 3: Revenge

Chapter 13- Lucifer

Propped up in my bed looking half-mummified for two weeks, I can't stop myself from watching the YouTube news clip of Dougie and Snake crashing on the old Memphis-Arkansas Bridge.

The force with which the SUV hits what has to be the gas line of the Monte Carlo takes my breath away each and every time because I know Mason was in there and was probably burned to a crisp by the time the car hit the Mississippi River below. Oh God, Mason. When I'm not playing this clip, I'm playing the clip of the city's search-and-rescue team extracting the vehicles out of the river.

So far, they've only recovered Dougie's body, halfway to Louisiana. Any day, they'll find Mason. Any day. "That can't be healthy." Startled, I jerk my head up to see Cousin Skeet, our resident dirty police captain, standing in my doorway out of uniform.

"What are you doing here?"

"What the hell do you think? You guys got a little carried away and turned the whole fuckin' city into a damn war zone."

"Don't play stupid.You know how we get down. You supplied the fuckin' weapons."

"I always supply the weapons, but I didn't expect y'all to get sloppy. I got the whole fuckin' city breathing down my neck.The body count is so high Homeland Security is looking at us sideways."

"You got your grandson back."

"Yeah. That's the one good thing you guys got right." Skeet sucks in a deep breath. "Thank you." I would say he was welcome, but since I lost Mason, I didn't think it was a fair exchange.

"So. How are you holding up?" I frown. Are we supposed to be friends now? "How does it look like I'm holding up?" Skeet's gaze sweeps over the cast on both my arm and leg.

"It looks like all the king's horses and all the king's men put you back together again." I smile without having meant to.

"As for . . . Mason," he clears his throat. "I'm sorry for your loss." My heart clenches like a mild heart attack.

"Thanks." I study him to see if there's any trace of him grieving for the son he never claimed or knew was his. In the end, I couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry for your loss as well." He looks confused.

"Sasha," I say. "I never gave you my condolence for the loss of your daughter." He nods.

"Thanks." We fall silent for a few awkward seconds before he remembers some more news. "By the way, Le'Shelle James is laid up in the hospital."

"I heard."

Skeet chuckles. "Apparently, her younger sister snapped out of her psychosis out at the mental hospital and damn near stabbed her to death with a pair of sewing needles. She's listed in critical condition at Baptist Memorial."

"I'll send-"

"No. No. No." Skeet shakes his head. "I wasn't asking for permission," I tell him.

"Hands off. I can't have or afford for you guys to go shooting up the hospital again. And as much as I want to strangle the bitch myself for what she's put Christopher through, she's going through the system. That's if she survives."

"You gotta be shitting me.What the hell am I supposed to tell Dice?"

"I don't care what you tell him. Keep his ass out of that fuckin' hospital. I gotta start closing cases before my new boss tosses words like 'early retirement' around. Matter-of-fact, I'd appreciate it if the Cartel Lords eased up on the body count for the rest of the year." I laugh.