Page 42 of This Is Law 3
“Why your mama didn’t leave yet?” he asked me, his eyes on the parking lot, where we could both look out, and see that my mom’s car was still parked there.
“She said that she was going to make a few phone calls, and then she was going to dip. What? You scared she going to see me beat your ass a few times when we do these drills?” I joked, and when I asked it, he didn’t laugh. He just stood there, shook his head, and he nervously scratched at it too.
“Man, a nigga ain’t worried about that shit at all. I came out here to get some drills in with my brother. Why we gotta have a babysitter?” he asked me, and I sucked my teeth, while standing up because at this point, I had my shoes on, and I was ready to start stretching too, so that we could do what we’d come out here to do in the first place.
“Nigga, why you worried about what the fuck my mama got going on for? She not paying us no attention! I’m sure she’s on the phone handling shit with her business. We going to do some drills or what?” I snapped.
“Aight, man,” he responded, and I was glad that he chose to drop it.
I had him stand to the left of me, and I walked him through the stretches that we were going to start out with.
“You been hearing that shit that they saying about Dutch? You really think he killed your grand dad?” Quay wanted to know, changing the subject while we were stretching.
I had a feeling that that would be one of the topics because so many people were talking about it. There was a page on Instagram, and it was called305Uncut.That page was a little different from the rest of the gossip pages that would post shit about who was fuckin who in Miami. Instead, this page more so focused on stuff like shootings, beefs in the area, arrests, RIPtributes for Miami legends, and shit like that. I liked to follow the page because in a way, I was learning Miami’s history. Whoever was running the page, you could tell that they had the ultimate respect for my grandad because they would post about him often, and it would always be good things.
From the moment Dutch, and his crew were arrested,305Uncuthad been posting about it. There was no need to watch the news, or to even go online, and look up the charges, and reports because they would post everything right there on social media. When Dutch got locked up, I remember going to my pops, asking him why he wasn’t out there handling it. Dutch was a big part of our life. He’d raised my dad, and he’s been in me, and Legend’s life since we were little boys. I just knew that my pops would be the first one at the jail, trying to get him out, just as he did when he came to the precinct to get my ass out. He wasn’t moving fast enough, so that’s when me, and Legnd came at him, wanting to know what that was about. He put us on game, telling us that he had some evidence, proving that Dutch killed our grandad. That shit was heavy for us because I would have never imagined that. Although I never got the chance to meet my granddad, I’ve heard so many stories about him from Dutch over the years, and the way Dutch was always speaking highly of him, I never thought that he would have something to do with his death.
It wasn’t long before305Uncutstarted posting about it and coming up with their theories on why Dutch might have done it. A lot of people were summing it up to jealousy.
“I know he did. My pops got proof that he did. Heard him confess it over an audio. I hope they kill that nigga in jail. Green ass nigga, man. How you kill your own best friend? Then, go on and raise his son like nothing ever happened. That’s some low-down shit,” I responded, finished with stretching now, and about to get started on some drills.
“Yeah man. That shit is crazy. You see Kross died too, right? he asked me.
“Yeah. I don’t feel bad for that nigga though. He used to talk crazy to my pops, and he said some shady stuff to my mom awhile back,” I let him know.
“Yeah, and he was into it with too many niggas, so it was only a matter of time before somebody popped him,” he added.
“Your right. Come on. Let’s get this work. I didn’t come out here to gossip though. Let’s leave that shit for the ladies,” I hit him on his chest, ready to start.
“Cool. What we going to do first?” he asked.
“Let’s do a few laps up, and down the field. Come on,” I started, happy because anything that required being outside, working out, and in my zone was my happy place. Summer was right around the corner, and I wanted it to fly by because I was ready for my junior year to start, so that I could be right back on that baseball field, kicking ass just like I did my previous high school seasons.
Soraya ‘Yaya’ Crawford
“Sevyn, what you doing now?” I whined the second he answered the phone. In the last thirty minutes, I’d called him already three times. I was calling him about Creed, and Quay, telling him how I was having this mommy intuition that something wasn’t right. I’d sat out in the parking lot for at least twenty minutes, doing nothing. I lied to Creed, telling him that I had business calls to make, but that was just my way of giving him a valid excuse as to why I was going to stay, and wait.
I watched the boys run their drills, and they looked to be having a good time. When my boy got in his zone, and he workedout, he wasn’t aware of anything, or anyone that was around him. Quay wasn’t the same though. I kept catching him stealing glances at my car, which made me question why he was doing that. When I called Law the second time to tell him that, he felt like I was being paranoid.
“Soraya, I’m doing the same shit that I was doing when you called me ten minutes ago. I’m in the office, baby. I’m about to hop on a call in like five more minutes. Where you at?” he asked me. I could hear it in his voice that I was annoying the hell out of him, even though he was trying to keep his cool, and pretend that I wasn’t.
“I was heading to the grocery store, but I’m about to turn around, so that I can go back, and keep eyes on my baby,” I voiced, and he sucked his teeth.
“You kill me with that shit, man. If I wasn’t in they life, you would have them boys soft as fuck. You baby them too much, Soraya. He out there on the field, running drills and shit, and you heading back out there to do what exactly? You be hovering over them and treating them like they still five. I just got on you last night for making that nigga’s bed up,” Law snapped on me. I knew it was coming. I could feel it.
“I wasn’t making up his bed. I was fixing the poor ass job that he did with making it up. Sevyn, just see where I’m coming from with this. This situation doesn’t seem weird to you? I feel like based on the last conversation that Creed and Quay had, the friendship was pretty much over. They both went in on each other. What would make him come back after that, you know? He didn’t reach out to Creed for weeks after that, now all of a sudden, he calls and wants to hang out. It doesn’t feel right. I’m going back out there, but I’m going to park my car in the cut, where they can’t see me,” I replied, hoping that he would give in, and side with me. He was quiet for a while, and then he cleared his throat.
“If you that headstrong about it, go back out there then. I don’t want to be the one to stop you, just in case there is some small percentage that you might be right. I just don’t think that Quay would try anything. That lil nigga know I’ll kill him for fuckin with my son,” he said.
“Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll call you back,” I let him know.
“Alright. I love you,” he confessed.
“I love you more,” and like that, I hung up, and I headed back to the park.
Creed Crawford
“Alright, nigga. I’m tired. You working me like we about to go to the fuckin Olympics,” Quay panted, sitting down on the grass, with his legs out in front of him, his hands behind him, as he breathed heavily.
