Maurice Broaddus - King's War

"I wanted to believe it. Trust in it. But part of me always thought that you loved your mission, not me." Lady G knew that was only part of it. Inside, she was still a little bit of that scared little girl. Trapped in a burning house with no one to protect her. To keep her from being burned. The idea of being loved so completely intoxicated her. It nourished her and she craved it. And she lost her way. She removed one of her gloves. The scars from her burns pulsed like throbbing veins. She held her hand out until King took it.

"I'm guilty of many things. I'm sorry I hurt you. I loved you, but not the way I should have. I should have guarded your heart better. I hope you can forgive me."

"I do." King squeezed her hand. "If I were to ask 'why?' would you have an answer?"

"Would anything I say help? Can't we just move on?"

"We can. Maybe we ought to. That would be easy. But not… real. We'd both always have questions that would haunt us."

"Do you ever wonder what happened to us?"

"Every day."

"You left."

"I…" by reflex, he almost said "I didn't stop loving you" but even that would have been a tacit admission of a truth. That he prided himself on how he guarded his heart and life were. How she slipped under his radar, right past his walls of protection. He didn't see her coming, then next thing he knew, she occupied a place in his heart. Nor was there any defense to be found by crying out to her, "You made me love you. You forced me to let you in, then you left me. You left me all alone. I had nobody. I needed you."

"There was an emptiness with you. Like you weren't all there, not… filling me."

"And Lott filled it? I couldn't?"

"You couldn't. Not really. You weren't there."

"I was good to you. Why didn't that matter?"

"It did, it just wasn't enough. Not from you. That was easy for you. What I needed from you, you couldn't give because it wasn't in you to give."

They met each other's eyes, affection tinged with regret and sorrow. The tension was gone. Nothing to rub up against. No one to blame. King cursed himself for falling into a laid trap of their weakness of character. They fought to gain some sort of control over their environment, their lives. He couldn't help but think it was somehow his fault. The price of a crown was often a heavy heart.

"One day, impossibly, it won't hurt this much," Lady G broke the silence. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him anymore.

"What's broken can be made whole. What's dirty can become clean." The words came out of King, though he wasn't sure if they were directed at him or her. "That's the hope we live in."

"You're crying."

"So are you."

The conversation had already delved deeper than he was comfortable with. A wound dug into in order to remove the settled rot was a good place to allow the healing to happen. Saying any more might push them to a place they couldn't come back from. So they stopped. Movement caught Lady G's attention. She cut her eyes back at King, then lowered her head to excuse herself. Lott stepped to the bedside.

"You look good," Lott said, not knowing where to begin.

"Do you want to do that?" King asked. "Begin with a lie."

"No, not really."

"You don't have to be here."

"Where else would I be? You shouldn't be alone."

"I'm not alone. Not as long as I have people around me who love me."

"You ain't gonna make this easy."

"You are a lie. Let me know something about the you that hides."

Hurt spilled from Lott's eyes. A pain left buried in his chest. "I love Lady G. I always have. And I love you. You and me… we brothers. And I betrayed that. I betrayed both of you. I'm sorry, man. I… You don't know how sorry I am."

There it was.

The betrayal in a sentence. Somehow it seemed bigger before it was said. Now here, they were both broken, regretting the stupid decisions they had made and the pain caused in the wake of them spinning out of control while their worlds had been tossed upside down. A lot of hurt had passed between them. Sometimes too much time elapsed and there was nothing left of a relationship to mend together. Sometimes, you just had to pick up the relationship where it lay. And sometimes, you just had to see the weight of the hurt on the other person's face to know how genuine it was. "You need to quit punishing yourself."

"But King…" The words "I'm sorry" still felt too small to contain all that Lott carried and wanted to convey to King.

King waved him off. "Enough. We need you. I need you. We can't do this thing on our own."

"I just don't want to be alone anymore." Lott buried his face into the sheets. A hand rested gently on his head.

"You're not alone. Not as long as you have people around you who love you."

La Payasa never wanted to be her mother. Her mom was unable to survive without a man. It was that simple. Born in Mexico, her mom was married three times. Each time a husband left or died, she hooked up with another one within months. Her life was its own prison, trapped by being functionally illiterate with her third-grade education and thus captive to the whims of her men. Her third husband moved to Indianapolis to find factory work. Her whole life revolved around pleasing him. Her long hair was worn in a bun, the way he liked it. She spent her days cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children, the way he envisioned a good wife should be. There was little of her mother in her own life.

La Payasa was not much different from her mom, moving from Black to King, her life defined by what others wanted of her and fitting in with their wants. Following their dreams and not her own. Yet she stood in the room at King's bedside as if having been granted an audience. Percy and Lott she knew. Not the girl. And not the one who, while lying down in a hospital bed, commanded the entire room.

"You're with Black and his crew," King said.

"I know the story that's been written about me." La Payasa ignored the weight of eyes in the room and focused on King. He had a way about him, like Black. He could draw you in. Unlike Black, there was a gentleness behind that hard exterior. A burning sense of caring. "But what if I'm actually one of the good guys?"

"You asking or telling?"

"Both, I think."

"What about Black? Aren't you helping him?"

"I'm hoping to help everyone."

King recognized that air about her: damaged but resilient. She reminded him of Lady G. "Nobody does it alone. Black and brown, we have a lot in common. And we need a place we all make together. Bring folks together in a positive way."

"I don't know, hese."

"You know what?" King turned to all of them. "I believe that Dred has united enough of the gangs and controls enough of the drug flow in this city to open the flood gates. To sink the streets, our streets, to lows and depravity and desperation we've never known. I believe the police are powerless because they can't build a case against someone they barely know. They're too busy cleaning up the messes left by the front lines of this war to get near him.

"Well, the police aren't in this alone. This is our community. These are our streets. Those are our brothers and sisters and children shedding their blood and losing their lives out there. Day after day in senseless waste. We're always fighting the same fight.

"This struggle has been going on forever. The players may change, the philosophies may differ, but there would always be war. On the one side you have the warlord, simple in his own way, who was always chasing that dollar no matter what the cost, and would use and climb over anyone he could to amass power. On the other side, you had the idealistic church wanting everyone to believe the same things and follow the same rules. You'd think they were on opposite sides but they were two sides of the same coin. Neither was as all good or all evil, as all right or all wrong, as the other side would make them out to be. In fact, both would do both good and terrible things to get what they wanted.