Page 49 of This Is Law 3
I sat here, trying to get all kinds of conversation out of her, but she would either straight up ignore me, or her responses were quick, and answering them in a tone like I was aggravating her.
“Did you do what I told you to do?” she asked thirty minutes later.
“I handled his son. Just got to handle Dutch,” I responded.
“I told you not to come back here until it was handled. Go. Come back when he’s dead,” she spat, and I could see the seriousness all over her face.
I chuckled, and I stood up, about to get the fuck out anyways because she was in a fucked up mood this evening, and I endured a whole hour of this. I went over to her, hugged and kissed her, just as I’d done when I got here, and she tightened up her body, and pushed my ass away.
“You so fuckin mean, man. I love you,” I let her know, and she just waved me off.
Shaking my head, I walked out of the room, said my goodbyes to the staff that I saw out in the hallways, and I made my way back to my truck. I started the truck up, and I pulled my phone out, doing some quick research, trying to find Dominic’s number. He had a business, so it was easy to get a hold of him. I sat here and called this nigga’s business phone back-to-back as if I was his bitch, and after the tenth call, he eventually answered for me.
“This is Dominic,” he answered.
“What’s up, nigga?” I responded back. I heard him suck his teeth, as if he was aggravated.
“Ay man, I had a long day. Don’t call my phone with no bullshit right now!” he snapped on me.
“Nigga fuck you, and the long day that you had. What you thought was going to happen when you got on TV trying to throw shade? You had to know that you were going to be expecting aphone call from me. For the record, I was never scared of taking on that case. I’m sure you studied me long enough to know that I’ve never ran from any kind of smoke in the courtroom. I left that nigga where the fuck he stood because he started talking to me crazy, doubting if I could pull through for him, and treating me like I was one of his runners. I don’t care how much money is on the line; I’ll never sell my soul and let a little nigga like Reggie talk to me crazy. You got on TV boasting, after just getting your ass handed to you in court. You ain’t do shit that was beneficial towards that man,” I got on his ass.
“Man, none of you niggas would have done a better job. You had the case long before I did, so you knew the kind of shit that I was up against, and all the evidence that they had of Reggie. I did what the fuck I could with what I was given. This not what this is about though. You still got pent up energy because I almost fucked your wife. You found out about that shit, your chest went to hurting, and they had to call a whole ambulance to get your ass off that floor, nigga,” he spat, and then he started laughing like it was funny, and I laughed right along with him because it actually was funny.
“If you had the kind of wife at home that I do, and you had to find out from her that she almost gave your pussy away, motha fucka, your chest would have been hurting too. You didn’t even get a chance to smell the shit, so I don’t expect you to feel where I’m coming from right now. She only gave you a teaser. By the way, I didn’t pass out from hearing that news. It was something heavier, and deeper than that. I just called you to tell you to stop with all the subliminal messages, and the shade. I’m a different kind of nigga when I’m not in office. I’ll pull up to your firm, and put hands on you, my boy. I don’t play when it comes to my respect, and I’m damn sure not going to sit around, and let a nigga like you put out false narratives on why I decided to drop that Reggie case. If you want to continue to keep your two legs,and walk in the courtroom, and get your ass handed to you in court the way that you’ve been doing for years now, please keep my name out of your mouth. I’d hate to make an example out of you,” I was calm in what I was saying to him because I knew everything that I was saying to him was facts.
“Whatever nigga,” was all he had left for me, and then he hung the phone up.
I tossed my phone in my cupholder, and I headed home. I was handling these niggas left and right. I’ve never went at it with this many people in one year in my entire life. I was cleaning up all messes, checking whoever the fuck I needed to, and laying hands on whoever because by the time my babies arrived, I wasn’t trying to have any kind of ongoing beef.
I wanted a peaceful life by the time my babies arrived on scene. I got Kross out the way. Beat the fuck out of Quay, so I knew I didn’t have to worry about his ass anymore. Edward Sterling was still locked up, denied a bond, and waiting to have his time in court. Just checked Dominic, so I knew I didn’t have to worry about his ass anymore, either. Last nigga that was left was Dutch. After that, everything in my life should calm down, and I didn’t have to worry about these bitch ass niggas anymore.
Chapter Twenty
DUTCH THORNE
Two months later
“Thorne, you can come out now,” one of the guards said to me, after he opened the door that was made of steel.
I was in solitary confinement, or ‘the hole’ as people liked to call it. I’ve been locked up in this bitch for the past sixty days. The niggas in this jail were trying to take my ass out, and I had been in here, fighting for my life, trying to stay alive, and that’s what landed me in the hole in the first place. I’ll walk anywhere in this jail freely, not giving a fuck about any of these weak ass niggas, but the one place that I was hesitant to go was the showers. In the showers is where I was the most vulnerable because I literally didn’t have shit on me to protect myself. At least, when I was in my cell, I kept some shit up under my pillow or in the wall, that I could use for protection, but when we got in those showers, all I had was my hands.
Two months ago, I was in a fucked-up place, mentally. I’m still in a fucked-up place, though. I had been having back, and forth conversations with Noelle, as she was preparing for our son’s funeral services. It was a hurt like no other, knowing that I couldn’t be there for my boy as he was laid to rest, and that’s what fucked with my mind the way it did. The night after thefuneral, when we were back in our cells, and the coast was clear, I called Noelle, just to see how everything had gone at the funeral, and the shit she told me shocked me.
I learned from her that someone pulled up to the gravesite, as they were putting Kross into the ground, and they emptied the hole clip into his casket. That shit enraged me. I asked her if they had an idea on who could have possibly did that shit, but she told me that they didn’t because the person was dressed in all- black, fully covered, not showing any skin, and once the gun shots rang out, everyone pretty much left. I knew that it was no one other than Sevyn that had done that shit, though. There wasn’t a nigga alive with bigger balls than him to do that shit, so even though Noelle was saying that she didn’t know who was responsible for it, I knew who it was without a doubt.
“Man, just leave me in here. I don’t care if I have to sit in this bitch until I go to court next month. I ain’t got it in me to be fighting with them lil niggas no more. I prefer being isolated, and away from them anyway,” I called out to the guard, as I lay on my back, refusing to get up.
“We’re not going to take you back to your cell. We’ll keep you isolated until your court date. We understand the severity of putting you back out with the rest of the population, so we won’t do it. Come on. I’ll walk you over now,” the officer said to me.
This was the same officer that brought me to the hole 60 days ago. Young, black officer, probably in his early 30’s. Big, cocky nigga that needed to be on someone’s football field, instead of working here at this jail. Since his uniform shirt was short sleeved, you could see the full sleeve tattoos that he had on his arms. His name was officer Jones, and from what I knew about him, I could tell that he was laid back, and he took his job serious.
I stood up, body aching because this shit that they called a bed was the worst thing to sleep on. I walked out of the hole,and he chained me up from my hands, and my feet. He closed the door back, and I walked on his side, as he led us out of this area. It felt like we were walking for over five minutes, and I grew a little nervous, not knowing where he was getting ready to take me, but we eventually made it over to another area that was similar to where I had previously been. It was much quieter over here. It felt like I was at a part of the jail that was left abandoned. There were steel doors, just like the one that I’d just come out of.
Officer Jones removed the chains that I had on my hands, and feet, and he used the many keys that he had on him, so he could unlock the door for me. It was a little dim inside.
I turned my head so that I could look back at him.
“Ya’ll niggas going to be remember that I’m in here?” I asked, followed by a laugh. He laughed too, put his hand on my shoulder, pushed me in, and he closed the door quickly behind him.
