Page 40 of This Is Law 3
“This is motha fuckin reparations. I’m slick at what I do. I could have killed that nigga, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to play the game the way they play it. Reparations, baby! I did this shit right here for every black man that’s ever been drugged into the courtroom, falsely accused of some shit that they didn’t do. Cracka thought because his ancestors used to own us back in the day that people like him still ran the world. He thought that he could frame my boy for some shit that he didn’t do. My boy too handsome for prison. Baby, turn your head, and look at my motha fuckin kids please! Look at my kids, baby, ” Law kept on going, and I laughed, shook my head, and sat at the ottoman. I wasn’t going to even disturb him. I was going to let my man have his victory.
“Really thought that he was going to pay somebody off to kill me and get to walk these streets freely. I’m here to fuckin collect. I can’t wait to see that cracka mugshot. Ima put it as my profile picture on Instagram. Belt to ass, baby,” he swung the belt again.
By this point, the boys knew what was going on, but I still rewind the tv for them, so that they were able to see it for themselves.
Out of both Legend and Creed, it was Creed who was most excited about seeing Edward Sterling in handcuffs, being hauled off to the back of a police car. Being able to stand here and witness the same man that sent you to jail, now be hauled off, had to be a feeling like none other. The boys didn’t know anything about Sterling having something to do with us almost getting ran off the road that night. We didn’t tell them. I just didn’t want them to bring those problems to school, probably try to get on Vivian, making the situation worse, so Law and I agreed that we would keep that from them. They were bothshocked, but happy nonetheless that Edward’s ass was getting ready to get the punishment that he deserved and be sent away to prison for a very long time.
The boys ended up leaving out of the room, closing the door behind them, which just left Law and I in the room together. I was still sitting down on the ottoman with my legs crossed, and the belt was still in his hands as he walked over to me.
“Damn, I was getting ready to wear that pussy out tonight anyways to celebrate our nuptials, but we can celebrate for them finally putting cuffs on that cracka, too,” he said, with his legs spread apart a little bit, looking down at me. I reached my hand out, and I pulled him by the string of the bottoms that he was wearing, so that he could come closer, and that dick could be right in my face.
“I’m going to need you to put that belt down first, baby,” I responded, and he laughed, tossing the belt on the bed.
He reached down, putting both hands up under my arms, so that he could lift me up, and carry me off into the bathroom. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck, smiling big because I knew that I was about to get 10/10 dick in here tonight. My man was happy, and in a good mood. Part of the reason why he was acting up the way he was by talking shit and swinging that belt is because I could smell the brown liquor on his breath to know that he had been downstairs in that mancave drinking. The dick that he would dish out when he was on that brown was out of this world, so I couldn’t help but to smile, knowing what was in store for me.
Chapter Fifteen
NOELLE WALTERS
The sound of Kross’s room door opening caused me to jump out of my sleep. These days, a pen could drop, and I would wake up. Being in this hospital, sleeping on this uncomfortable ass couch was the reason why I couldn’t seem to dive into a deep sleep, so literally the smallest of sounds would have me jumping out of my sleep.
This hospital has depressed me in ways that I couldn’t even explain. I wanted nothing more in the world than to go back to California, but there was just this small piece of me that was going to have some kind of mom guilt if I were to leave my son alone. I hated that I even allowed myself to have mom guilt because Kross, and I hadn’t had a healthy relationship with each other in years. I know that it was such a fucked-up thing to say, but it’s almost like I’d given birth to the devil. I should have known that having a child with a man like Dutch was going to bring on some issues in our child.
Dutch, and I were never in a relationship or anything like that. Back then, any time that he would be in Cali, he would call me for sex, or when I would come to Miami with my girls, I would always swing over to him for sex as well. He likes to think that I purposely trapped him and had a baby by him when thetruth is, I went so far into the pregnancy not knowing that I was pregnant, so by the time that I found out, it was already too late to terminate it. Leave it to him, I trapped him because he was a dope dealer and had money, when that was the furthest thing from the truth because all I’ve ever fucked with were men in power, and men with money, so he wasn’t my first shot at that.
I chose not to tell Dutch about the pregnancy nor when our son arrived because I knew that there wasn’t anything good that was going to come from it. I knew that Dutch didn’t want children. I would be around the nigga when he would speak on those things, so early on, I just knew that he probably wouldn’t be a good father to our son, so I didn’t bother.
As Kross grew older, he literally left me with no choice but to tell his dad about him. At five years old, Kross was a menace. He’d already been kicked out of three elementary schools for fighting, and for disrespecting the staff. Since public schools weren’t working out, I decided to have him home schooled, but two of his home schoolteachers ended up quitting for the same thing. I was left with no choice but to reach out to Dutch because I couldn’t raise him on my own.
I remember everything about me putting in that phone call to him. I got called all kinds of bitches, and hoes, and he went on and on about me keeping a baby for the money. Meanwhile, I went the first five years of our sons life and never asked him for a dime. After all the shit talking that he did, he ended up coming the next weekend to see Kross. Kross was the spitting image of his father, but Dutch still wanted a DNA test, which I couldn’t blame him for, and once he found out that our son belonged to him, he did step up and do his part. The biggest thing we would go at it about was me not allowing Kross to go to Miami with him. Dutch was deep into the drug game at the time, and I didn’t like not having control of the settings he would have my son, so for years, I wouldn’t let Kross leave California.
By middle school, Kross left me with no choice. His behavior had only worsened in school. He was getting in trouble with the law, and his disrespect towards me had heightened, talking to me as if I was just some random bitch off the street. Before I ended up killing his ass, I put that call in to Dutch to get his ass, and he did just that, allowing me to wash my hands with him.
Over the years, I would still call and check up on my son, but by the time he turned eighteen, I had to cut off communication because he had become someone that I grew to hate. I couldn’t tolerate the disrespect, and for years, I would force the relationship because he was still my only child at the end of the day, and I did want the relationship, but it wasn’t worth my peace. To go no contact with my son for the time that I did, to now being in this hospital with him day in and day out was so crazy to me. Nothing was improving with his status, so I was already prepared to have that tough talk with the doctors and nurses by this weekend, so that they could go ahead, and remove him from this fight that he was still fighting with life.
Someone had walked inside the room, and it was a black doctor, dressed in his lab coat. I’d never seen him before, and for the time that I’ve been here, it’s pretty much been the same doctors and nurses on call. This doctor walked in with a stethoscope around his neck, his badge clipped to his coat, and his eyes danced around the room until they landed on me. He was an older gentlemen that looked to have been in his late fifties. Very handsome. Dark skin, eyes that were light brown, and his face was clean, with just a patch of chin hair. I found myself smoothing down my hair, trying to look somewhat decent for him.
With a smile on his face, he cleared his throat.
“How you doing? I’m Dr. Joseph. They have me scheduled tonight to cover the overnight rotation,” he let me know. I nodded my head, not really thinking anything of it.
He walked over to where Kross was in bed, and he stood over him, examining him for a few seconds.
“I was looking over his chart, and he’s due for an IV change, so I’m going to handle that, and I’ll be on my way, so that you can finish resting. It’ll be quick,” he assured me.
“That’s fine,” my voice came out a little raspy because I was tired as hell.
The doctor ended up leaving the room, and then he came back about two minutes later with the IV. I watched him, just to see if he knew what his ass was doing, but like he could do this in his sleep, he changed the IV with no problem, examined Kross for a few more seconds, smiled at me, and he finished it with telling me to enjoy the rest of my night. I thanked him, and he left.
I turned back on my side, resting my head on the pillow, and pulling the blanket over my body. Literally, the second my eyes closed, alarms started going off in the room. I quickly jumped up from the couch, ready to rush for the button on the wall to call for the doctor, and nurses, but I didn’t have to because a full team was already rushing in. My eyes looked up at the monitor, which had been the same monitor that I’ve been watching since I’d come here, where I could see his heart rate. The heart monitor slowed down, then it spiked, and seconds later, it just totally flat lined.
“What’s going on? What’s happening?” I screamed, asking anyone.
“Ma’am, can you wait outside? Just for a few seconds, we need you to go outside,” that was nurse Jill. She’s been here working with Kross for as long as I’ve been here.
I just knew that whatever was going on with my son, it wasn’t good.
I left out of the room like they’d asked me to because I didn’t want to do anything to slow them down on working on him.The machines inside the room were blaring inside, and even as I stood outside the door, I could still hear it. I pressed my back against the wall, standing here, with my head down.
