Page 44 of This Is Law 3
I went into the office today because I had some meetings, and what should have been a day that didn’t last me any longer than 3 hours, kept getting thrown off because Yaya kept calling, throwing me off my schedule. I was surprised that she was being so anal about this shit because she usually left me alone when I was working. You know I was blaming it on the pregnancy though, and her just being paranoid because so much shit kept happening. Word got out fast that Kross died in the hospital. The next morning after it happened, I just remember her rolling over in bed, looking me in the eyes, asking if I had anything to do with it, and my response to her was a simple, “What you think?”
She didn’t ask shit else about that incident, but I could tell that it left her on edge, and feeling like Dutch was somewhere, ready to retaliate, even with him being behind those walls. She gave Creed so much flack about hanging with Quay today. All week, she had been trying to convince me that he shouldn’t go,but I didn’t take her side on it. Now, here I was, in my car, racing to get to my wife, and my son, after Yaya called me panicking, telling me what just gone down at the park. Talk about a moment where I felt like shit, and I was already prepared for Yaya to not let me hear the end of it.
All week, she had been going on, and on about this gut feeling that she had, and she was right all along, which is why I was sitting at this red light, punching the steering wheel multiple times.
“I just had this feeling that was nagging at me, Sevyn. You looked at it as me babying him, but that’s not what I was doing. I could just sense that something was going to happen. He came here today to kill my baby. He was going to take my son away from me. I’m not strong like that. I’m not mentally strong like that to have to endure losing another child,” Yaya’s voice cracked on the other end of the phone, and she started crying. I was prepared for her to react like this. I couldn’t even get on her about the tears this time because it was warranted.
“He still here though, baby. Creed right there, and he ain’t going nowhere. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to doubt you on this shit, Yaya. I know sometimes you like to hang certain shit over my head, but bae, don’t hang this one. I genuinely didn’t feel like that nigga had ill intentions. When him, and Creed had that moment over the phone where they went at it, I thought Quay was just in a fucked up mood because of how life was going for him. When he came back to hash shit out, I thought that it was genuine. I know it’s some green niggas in this world. Look at the shit that I just found out about with Dutch, and my pops. I was negligent with this shit, and didn’t think that Quay had it in him,” I responded. I could hear her sniffling, but she didn’t say anything.
I stayed on the phone with her for the whole twenty minutes that it took me to get there. I was in my truck, and I could seeYaya’s car parked all the way in the back. Creed was standing outside her car, and when he heard my truck rumble, he looked over at me. I was always happy when I saw my children, but right now, this happiness was different because we could have lost him today.
I quickly got out of the truck, keeping my phone in my hands, where I had Yaya on speaker, and I rushed to my boy, pulling him into me, and then I pulled away from him, examining him, checking to see if he had any bruises or anything. He was fine. I could see blood on his fist, and some splattered on his chest, but he was fine. His eyes were blood shot red, as if he had been crying, too.
“Ma was right. We wasn’t listening to her,” was the only thing that he could say.
“I know man. I fucked up. Get in the car. I’m about to send your mama out here in a few minutes, so that ya’ll can go home,” I let him know, and he nodded.
“He’s not dead. What are you going to do with his body? Pops, don’t kill him. I hate that nigga for what he did, but don’t kill him. All the stories that you told me on how people get caught up on murder charges; I know that all this will point back to us. I was texting him. The cops can find our messages where we planned to meet out here. Our phone calls. Don’t kill him because I’m not trying to go to prison for murder,” he pleaded, and I could hear the fear in his voice.
I spoke about the laws, and punishment to my boys so much, so to hear Creed standing here, pleading like this, that only let me know that he had been listening over the years.
“Ima figure it out. Get in the car,” I repeated it, and he nodded, went ahead, and pulled the passenger door open, and he got inside.
I walked away, and the field was a good distance away, so I had to do a jog to get over there, just to speed it up a little bit.Once I was close, I slowed down a little bit, and before I knew it, I was standing in front of Yaya. She wasn’t wearing any shoes. I looked her up, and down, just as I’d done Creed, and she was fine. I pulled her into me, so that I could wrap my arms around her, and she clung to me. The hug was heavy because it felt like everything that she was holding onto, she was putting it on me.
“Go get in the car with Creed. Take him home,” I said after a couple of minutes.
“What are you going to do with him? He’s not dead. Just unconscious,” she replied.
“Ima handle it. Go home,” I said it again. She nodded her head, and she walked away.
I watched her walk the entire way back to the car. Once I couldn’t see her anymore, that’s when I turned to look down at Quay, and his little ass was barely recognizable because my son had fucked him up. There was blood all over his face, and you could even see some on his chest. I looked over in the distance, seeing that Creed’s water bottle, and gym bag was still here. Quay had a gym bag as well, and I went inside of it. There was a face towel inside, his phone, and a pair of slides. I grabbed his phone, putting it inside my pocket, and then I walked over to Creed’s gym bag, putting his water bottle inside of it, and I placed it over my shoulder.
I left Quay’s gym bag on the grass, and I bent down to pick his little scrawny ass up. I had a gun on my hip, and I swear I wanted to kill this lil nigga. He almost did my son the same way that Dutch had done my pops.
I carried him over my shoulder, walking the long way back to my truck, and I opened the back door, carefully putting him inside, and then I closed the door.
I hopped inside my truck after tossing Creed’s gym bag in the passenger seat, and I sighed, thinking about what I wanted to do in this moment. It only took me about five minutes to come upwith a plan. The plan sounded like something to me that made the most sense, so after a few more minutes, I started the car up, and I just drove. I drove, and during this time of having him in the car with me, every few moments, I could hear him start groaning from the back. He was slowly waking up from the ass whopping that he received.
I pulled up to our destination two hours later, and I looked in the back, and his eyes were still closed. I drove us out to Port St. Lucie, going to an old, abandoned park. I was able to drive my truck through, and I took us all the way in the back, where it was surrounded by nothing but trees, the lake, and a few beat down tables that probably hadn’t been sat on in years from the condition of them.
I quickly shut the truck off, and I went in the back seat, pulling this nigga out of the truck, and I walked, carrying him again. I held onto him until we were standing in nothing but dirt, and rocks, and once I had him in an area that I felt was good enough, I dropped him, and the force from the drop caused him to stir. He landed on his back, and for a minute straight, he fought to keep his eyes opened, and once he saw that he was staring up at me, and I had this mug on my face, you could see the fear all in his eyes, and he even tried to slide back, so that he could get away from me, but he didn’t have a lot of strength to do so.
“Stand the fuck up lil nigga!” my voice roared. With fear evident on his face, he pushed to get himself to stand up, but kept stumbling along the way. When he eventually got up on his two feet, he tripped, leaving him to fall back in the dirt, but he managed to get back up.
“Law, I was desperate?—”
“Shut the fuck up! Don’t you stand here and give me no motha fuckin excuses on why you thought that it was a good idea to kill my fuckin son! Fuck is wrong with you nigga? Ain’t shitthat you can say to me right now that’ll make me feel where the fuck your coming from, so save that bullshit! I let your ass into my fuckin house! I fed you! I knew that you lacked guidance, so I used to try to be a father figure to you, but I could quickly tell that you didn’t want it, and that’s why I backed off! I never wanted to be the kind of parent that picked my kids friends, but for years, I could tell that you weren’t any good for Creed, but my son loved you, so I didn’t get in the way of that. Who the fuck sent you to do that shit to him, or you thought of that on your own?” I really wanted to know.
“Dutch,” when he revealed that to me, all I could do was laugh, shake my head, and back up a little bit. A monster fuckin raised me. This nigga took my dad away from me, and now he was on a hunt to go after my kids. I felt like this was a year that was filled with so much betrayal, and it was almost scary the lengths that people would go to cause you harm.
“Wow! Ain’t this a motha fucka. What he promised you? He had to promise you something heavy because no way you thought that it was a good idea to stab a nigga to death that you grew up with. Even after you saw my wife, you still was going to do that shit too. Yaya told me that you still went to stab him, even after you saw that she was there. What the fuck was promised to you?” I wanted to know. When I asked that, the nigga started crying.
“I ain’t some heartless nigga. I swear, Law. I’m just fuckin desperate right now, so I had to do what I had to do for me, man. I knew it was wrong. I didn’t want to do it. Creed came out there with me, and he kept telling me that he loved me, and how he missed me. I could tell that he was genuinely having fun being out there, working out with me, but I’m at a point in my life where I don’t have shit right now. I was kicked out of school, and my mama kicked me out the house. For the past few months, I been house hopping. I don’t have anywhere stable to lay myhead. Before Dutch got locked up, I saw him in the projects that I was living at. I approached him, asking him if I could move weight for him, but he told me that he was about to retire. He hit me up a few weeks ago, offering me a proposition. He told me that you and him were beefing, and he wanted to get back at you. He said that if I killed Creed, that he would help me out of this fucked up situation that I was in. He said that he had a spot that the feds didn’t know about, and it had drugs for me to push out on the streets, weapons, and money for me. I ain’t got shit, so that felt like the best thing to me at the moment,” he finished. I was shocked by his words. Truly shocked.
“That nigga played you, and I really want you to know that. That bitch ass nigga don’t have shit to give you! The feds took every motha fuckin thing from him. They been watching the way he move for years. Took every car that he owns, any cash that was tucked away, his homes, phones, every fuckin thing. That motha fucka sells lies for a living, and he sold you a big one. You let a friendship with your brother go down the drain for some drugs, money, and guns? You had options fuck nigga! You know the kind of person that my son is. If you had told him how serious the situation was, I know for a fact he would have tried to convince me to let you move in with us. Even if that wasn’t an option, you could have got your ass back in school, cleaned up your fuckin act, and took your ass back home to your mama because she would always accept you back with open arms. You were ready to throw your life away, so let me help you finish. Here. Go ahead, and blow your brains out,” I walked closer to him, reaching for the gun that I had on my hip, and I put it right up under his chin.
His eyes grew big, and he tried backing away, but with my other hand, I put it on his back, and I kept the gun under his chin.
