Page 41 of This Is Law 3
My son has given me hell for as long as I could remember, and I remember when I arrived in Miami, after Dutch had told me what was going on with Kross. I came with the mindset of coming down, agreeing to pull the plug, have the funeral services, and I would go back to California like nothing happened. Sitting here in this room with him these past few weeks, looking at him, talking to him, wondering the things that I could have done better as a mom, so that our relationship wouldn’t have been as tainted as it was, were all things that I had been thinking about. I started coming up with my own version of what our life could possibly be like if by any reason a miracle happened, and God allowed him to wake up from this.
The way those machines were going off felt much different than the last time. This happened before. The day that Dutch was arrested, the machines had gone off that day as well, and I thought that that would be the moment where we lost him, but he stuck through it. This time it felt different though. I could feel it in my heart that I was going to lose him this time.
I was the only one that was standing outside of my son’s door. The security that Dutch had in place was now gone. Word was getting out from the jail that Dutch had something to do with Knox being murdered. That word was traveling fast. At first, I didn’t know anything about it, but the security guard Chris came to me, telling me what he found out, and because of that, he made it clear that he didn’t want to do the job anymore. Dutch would call me at night from a phone that he was able to keep smuggled in his cell. For weeks, I wasn’t picking the phone up for him because we’d gotten into a bad argument because he started disrespecting me once he learned that I was allowing some of Kross’s friends to come into the room and see him.
I wouldn’t answer the phone for him for a while, but once Chris quit, I answered for him, telling him what Chris had told me. I was seeing it with my own two eyes, as people were losing respect for Dutch because he reached out to a few security guards to take on Chris’s old job, but no one wanted to be involved.
Did I believe that Dutch might have had something to do with Knox’s death? Of course. Dutch had shady ways about him, and I knew that he was one of those people that was always out for himself, so he could have very well killed Knox, so that he could take over the company, and run it himself.
I wiped my eyes, and I continued standing here, trying my best to drown out the sounds that were going on inside Kross’s room. Something in my spirit told me to look to the left of me. Down the hall, to my left was the end of the hallway, and where the staircase was. I looked in that direction, and there stood a figure there that was dressed in all black. They had the hood of the sweater pulled low over their head, and hands buried into the sweater as well. I squinted my eyes for a little bit just to see if I could get a glimpse of who the person was. The figure slowly lifted their chin just enough for me to get a small hint as to who they were.
My eyes locked with them, and I swear my jaw touched the floor when I saw that it was Law standing there. Law had a distinct face, and I remember he would come around as a little boy when Dutch would fly into Cali to see Kross. It’s like he wanted me to know that he might have had something to do with whatever was going on with my son because he smiled at me, and he disappeared into the staircase like nothing ever happened.
Before I allowed myself the time to even process what the hell just happened, Kross’s room door opened, and one of the doctors, and two of the nurses stepped out, each looking atme with sympathetic eyes, and they didn’t even have to say it because I knew. I knew what happened. The fact that the hospital room was now quiet, and you couldn’t hear the loud blaring of the machines told me everything that I needed to know.
“I’m sorry….
The doctors voice trailed off. I didn’t have it in me to listen to what he was going to say to me. As a mother, of course, this hurt to know that I’d lost my only child. A child that I didn’t have the best relationship with, but it still hurt, nonetheless. I had been prepared to have that talk with the doctor this weekend anyway and allow Kross to go off in peace. I felt like he went off in total disruption, and that’s the part that saddened me about this.
Dutch wasn’t the first street dude that I’ve dealt with, so I knew what this was. I wasn’t stupid. I knew that Law sent that “doctor” into my son’s room to kill him. That was retaliation. Dutch killed his father, so it was only right that Law got his get back, and he killed the one thing that Dutch had. I wasn’t going to snitch though. How could I? As fucked up as it was that my son had to be the pond in the middle of this, the way I saw it was that Kross wasn’t going to make it anyways. The staff had been preparing this for me for weeks.
This was a blood for blood situation.
With a tear slowly falling from my eyes, I stood here, going to have to prepare to walk back in that room with my son. I would have to use this week to prepare for his funeral. I knew that Dutch wasn’t going to take this news easily. They had denied his bond, so he wouldn’t be able to be here, and watch his son get laid to rest.
I tell you what, after the funeral services were over, Miami will probably never see me again. There was nothing else left for me here. What kept me here had just finished taking their last breath. I hate that Kross made some of the choices in life that puthim in this situation. I hated Dutch for his role that he played in his life, which dragged my son even deeper into his shit. I also hated that Law had to be the one to end it. It was his payback though. It was him evening up the score, and something told me that he was going to have Dutch killed in that jail, too. I couldn’t say that I blamed him if he was cooking up something.
Chapter Sixteen
CREED CRAWFORD
“Where you about to go while I’m out here?” I asked my mama. I stepped out of her car, and I grabbed my gym bag, looking inside, just making sure that everything that I needed was there. It was two in the afternoon, and we just made it to the park, so that I could get this work out in with Quay.
“I’m going to sit here for a little bit and then go the grocery store or something. Just text me like fifteen minutes ahead, so that I won’t have you waiting. You have enough water, and Gatorade in there? It’s hot as hell out here today,” she said, reaching over, so that she could look around in my bag and see what all was in there.
“Yeah ma. I packed more than enough. Why you going to sit out here? Just go to the grocery store now,” I said, picking the bag up, and I put it on my shoulder.
“Because I need to make a couple of phone calls. Go Creed. Have fun. I love you,” she let me know.
“Aight. I love you more,” I assured her, and then I closed the door.
With my gym bag on my shoulder, my socks and slides on my feet because I would change into my sneakers once I was on the field, and my phone in my hands, I headed to the field, where Ialready knew Quay was because he texted me about five minutes ago, letting me know that he was out here. I squinted my eyes a little bit, and I saw him on the grass, and he’d already started before me, getting some stretching in.
We were at Scott Lake park. I have a lot of memories out here. The hood that my pops used to take us to, and the church that we attended wasn’t too far from this park. That one time that I was put in football for a little bit, this was the park that I would practice at, and have games, but that didn’t last too long because I learned early on that football wasn’t the sport for me.
Years ago, this park used to be jumping. Parking lot was always filled with cars to the point that people would have to park on the grass. All the food trucks would pull up when practice was going on, the concession stands would have all the hood snacks, and it was rare that you would pull up out here, and it was quiet. Now, this shit was like a ghost town. My mom’s car, along with another beat down truck that probably didn’t even work were the only cars in the lot. Nobody was on the field except for Quay and I.
Outside of the park, like around the perimeter of it, you could see a few people walking, getting their exercise in. There was a playground that was a little further down, and I could see a few kids playing there, and parents standing around, watching. We weren’t necessarily the only two here, but just the only two in this area.
Quay must have been able to feel me walking up because during the lunges that he was doing, he turned his head around and looked at me. With a smile on his face, he quickly came out of the position that he was in, and he walked over to me, putting his hand out, so that we could slap it up with each other, and he even pulled me in for a hug. I missed my brother. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him until we embraced in a hug.
“What’s up, man? I missed you, nigga,” I voiced, and he laughed, as he pulled away from me.
“Here you go with that gay shit,” he responded, and I just shook my head.
I could be tough, but I also knew how to express my emotions. My pops made me, and my brother that way. These days, niggas were so hard that they couldn’t even tell their brother that they loved them, or other sentimental shit like that. I had no problem expressing that, and I didn’t view that kind of talk as gay. I tell my brother I love him every day. Shit, this afternoon when I left out the house, I went in his room, and told him what my plans were this afternoon, and I ended it with telling him that I loved him. I could tell that Quay wasn’t raised where he had men in his life, telling him that it was okay for him to express his feelings because every time that I did so, he would throw jokes out about it being gay, or soft.
I sat my bag down on the grass, and I lowered myself down as well, so that I could change my shoes. I looked up at Quay, and he looked different. Physically he was a little off. Quay has always been slim, but today, he looked much smaller. He would keep his hair in waves, and he would always boast about having the best waves in the game. Today, he wasn’t rocking his waves. He’d allowed his hair to grow out, so he had a mini afro going on. The afro didn’t look bad on him, but it would have looked a little better if he got a line up or some shit. The white shirt that he was wearing looked dingy, and the gym shorts looked a little too small for him. His sneakers were cool though. They were a pair of black Nike’s. It shocked me to see Quay this way because for the past couple of years, he’s been moving weight, so the money that he would make, he would put it into his appearance. He always had a fresh line up, waves were always on point, and when it came to putting that shit on, he was always dressedto impress. It felt like I was watching this nigga crumble right before my eyes.
