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Breeze had finally decided to go home, even though she hadn’t been able to get in touch with Primo again. She took a hot bath and thought about the position that she was in.
She knew that Primo could have possibly shot Brian, but she wanted to believe that Big D had done it. How could she protect Primo if he was responsible for paralyzing her best friend’s boyfriend and the father of her unborn child?
Then again, how could she not protect him? Primo was her man and although he wasn’t perfect he was perfect for her. He took care of her and she now felt that her loyalty lied with him. If he hadn’t taken her in like he had she’d still be dealing with Lauren’s bullshit.
Plus, if he had shot Brian it hadn’t been on purpose. She knew for a fact that Big D had fired the first shot and that Primo was only trying to protect her and himself. She had been talking to Primo when the first shot had been fired.
She’d made up her mind that she was standing by Primo no matter what. She felt bad for Brian, but there was nothing she could do about it now. Losing her man wouldn’t help anyone, especially her. She was still thinking about everything when her phone started to ring.
“Hello,” she answered.
“What the fuck is wrong wit’ you?” Dior demanded.
“What you mean?”
“You told the police that Primo wasn’t there that night! Did he shoot Brian?” Dior wanted to know.
“I don’t think so, but I really don’t know,” Breeze said calmly.
She knew that Officer Hayes would eventually tell Dior that she was uncooperative, so she’d been expecting this phone call.
“You don’t know? Do you realize that he’s paralyzed?”
“Of course, I do but—”
“What the fuck am I supposed to do with a man in a wheelchair and a baby in a stroller?” Dior asked, cutting her friend off.
“Dior, calm down. I understand exactly where you comin’ from.”
“No, you don’t because while Brian is laid up in a hospital bed Primo is still walkin’ around!”
“I know, but hear me out,” Breeze said as she sat up in the bathtub. “I don’t know who shot Brian. It’s fucked up what happened to him, but do you really expect me to turn on Primo? Would you tell on Brian?” Breeze asked.
Dior was mad but she wasn’t stupid. She knew that there was nothing like a snitch and she knew that she wouldn’t have told on Brian, but she still wanted justice for her man.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It just ain’t fair that Brian is in this situation when he ain’t do shit to deserve it.”
“I know, but dude shot at Primo first. He had to do somethin’.”
“How you know that?” Dior wanted to know.
“I was standin’ wit him when Big D first started shootin’. He shouldn’t have started shootin’ wit’ all them people out there.”
“Well, he dead and I still feel like it’s Primo’s fault.”
“I know, but if Primo goes to jail, what good is that gon’ do anybody?”
Dior knew that Primo going to jail wouldn’t make Brian walk again. She just wished that Primo had been the one that had gotten shot and paralyzed, then Breeze could really understand what she was going through. If Primo hadn’t been there none of this shit would have happened.
“You think that if he shot Brian he should just get away wit’ it?” Dior asked.
Breeze thought about that question for a few seconds before she answered.
“No.”
Breeze knew that if the shoe were on the other foot she wouldn’t be able to just forgive and forget, and no matter what she never planned to lie to her girl. Dior had had her back before she’d ever laid eyes on Primo and more than likely she’d still have it when Primo was long gone.
“So, if they find out that he did shoot Brian then what?” Dior asked.
“I don’t know.” Breeze sighed. “I can get Primo to cover all of his medical bills,” she offered.
“That’s a start, but if he shot Brian... Imma shoot him,” Dior said softly.
The words surprised both girls, but they both knew that she was serious. Dior wouldn’t turn the police onto Primo, but she would do her best to make him pay if he had in fact fired the shots that had paralyzed the father of her baby.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Breeze sighed before Dior hung up without warning.
Breeze unstopped the tub and climbed out. What would she do if it was proven that Primo had shot Brian? Did it matter that it was an accident? Would she just stand by while Dior looked for vengeance? She couldn’t answer any of those questions and she hoped that she wouldn’t have to.
She’d watched enough episodes of The First 48 to know that the police would be able to use ballistics and trajectory tests to find out which bullets came from Primo’s gun and which had come from Big D’s gun, and ultimately be able to determine which one had shot Brian. She prayed that the bullets had come from Big D’s gun.