Page 43 of This Is Law 3
He’d come out of his shirt, and he was sweating just as badly as I was. My shirt was off too, as I leaned down, and I picked up the face towel that was on top of my gym bag, so that I could wipe off my face, neck, stomach, and back. I was drenched in sweat. We went at it hard right here in this Miami heat.
“You feel good though, right? You can’t tell me you don’t feel like you can run a million miles right now,” I said, and he just waved me off, and reached over, so that he could grab the big gallon of water that he’d come out here with.
I walked over to him, standing not too far away. I wanted to ask him something, but I didn’t want to offend him. All afternoon, I felt like his temper was quicker than what it usually was, and he wasn’t the same Quay that I knew, but I really didenjoy being out here with him, so I tried not to let it bother me too much.
“Yeah, aight. I’m out of shape like a motha fucka,” he said, and I just laughed.
“Ay man, can I ask you something without it sounding like I’m offending you?” I just went ahead and asked anyway.
“What you got to ask me?” he wanted to know.
“You straight? Like money wise? You need anything because I got you. I got some money in my account that I can send you if you need it. I’m not trying to offend you or assume anything. Your my brother, so I just want to make sure that your good. That’s all,” I admitted to him. There was a hard look on his face, and because he was looking at me like this, I really didn’t know what his response was going to be.
“Nah man. I’m good. You already know how I am. A nigga don’t need no handouts,” he said. I nodded, going to respect his response, and leave it alone.
I turned my back towards him after that, so that I could go over to my gym bag. I finished the water bottle that I had been holding in my hand, so I was going inside to get another one. I was down in a squatting position, moving the items around in my gym bag, when I suddenly felt movement behind me. I turned around to see what was going on, and Quay was right there, hovering over me. He had a look to him that I couldn’t really read.
“And you be saying that I’m gay. Nigga, back your ass up,” I joked. He didn’t laugh though.
“Creeeed!” I could hear my mom yelling from the other side of the field. When she dropped me off, I vividly remember her being in a denim dress, and she wore tan colored sandals.
Looking over at her, I saw that the sandals weren’t on her feet, and like this woman wasn’t pregnant, carrying twins, she was taking off in our direction. I was ready to snap on herbecause her ass was supposed to have been gone, going to the grocery store like she said she was going to do, but here she was.
I took my eyes off her just for one second, and I looked up at Quay. He was looking down at me like he was a lion, and I was his pray. That’s when I turned to what was in his right hand, and I saw the switch blade.
Even with my mama running full force towards us, he still made a move towards me like he was going to use it, but I was able to think fast, and on my feet, throwing the water down on the floor, and I went for that nigga’s legs, tackling him down to the ground. With the knife still in his hand, he was swinging that shit, trying to slice me anywhere that he could, but I dodged it.
My mom made it over to me, and she came in, arms and feet swinging, not giving a damn.
“Ma, moveeee! Go! Moveee!” I screamed at her because this nigga had a crazed look in his eyes right now, like he was completely out of his body, and I didn’t want him to nut up, and do something to my mama.
I was on his ass, fighting to get that knife out of his hand, and it eventually slipped out of his hand. My mama picked it up, tucked it in her dress pocket, and I blacked out, and started beating the shit out of this nigga. During the fight, I could hear my mama yelling for me to stop, and that’s when I did so. She pulled me off him, and I watched Quay lay there limp. I really didn’t know if he was even alive or not. There was blood all over his face, but when I looked at his chest, it was moving up, and down, so that meant that he was alive.
“Go in the car, Creed. Let me call your dad,” my mom said, after two minutes of us standing here, looking down at him.
“Ma, what if?—”
“Go in the fuckin car, Creed!” she screamed at me.
I didn’t even test her. I scanned the lot where her car had originally been, but I didn’t see it out there.
“Where you parked?” I asked her.
“All the way in the back. Go,” she snapped, handing her keys over.
I walked away, leaving everything out there. I didn’t want her to be alone out there with him, but I knew my mom was tough and could handle herself. The whole time that I was walking off the field, I was breathing hard, and it wasn’t because I was out of breath from beating that nigga’s ass. I felt like my body was filled with so much rage right now that I couldn’t seem to catch a steady rhythm of breathing.
That nigga came out to that park today to kill my ass. He lured me to that park, with plans of stabbing me to death. All I could think about was how all week my mom had been tripping, saying how she felt it was weird that he would want to squash our beef all of a sudden. Just like she did everything else, I felt like she was overreacting.
I made it over to her car, standing outside of it, and I cried angry tears. A nigga that I grew up with, spent the night the night at his crib, and he’s slept at my crib as well, almost fuckin killed me. I was posted outside my mom’s car, arms crossed, legs shaking, as angry tears fell from my eyes.
I had the perfect view of my mom from where I was standing, and she had her phone to her ear, and I’m sure that she was on the phone with my dad. I already knew that he was going to be a different kind of monster when he got out here, and saw what was going on. I really didn’t know if he would keep Quay alive after this. That stupid ass nigga just tried to end me.
Chapter Seventeen
SEVYN ‘LAW’ CRAWFORD
Yaya hit me like ten minutes ago for what felt like the 100thtime today. I loved my wife to death, but I swear I almost called our phone company to tell them to turn her lines off so that she could stop calling me, worrying about bullshit.
