by Kelly, Marie
He sat on the floor mean mugging me for a second before he snatched it up.
Just like mine did, Surge’s eyes popped out of his head, and his mouth fell once he saw what was inside the folder.
“Yes, motherfucker! Where the fuck you think he got that information from?”
I don’t give a fuck what anyone said, I knew Dior was feeding her father information. Shorty was cool when I met her, but she was loyal to her fucking pops, and this clearly showed it.
“Nah, it can’t be! She saved my ass!” Surge uttered in shock, and I angrily chuckled at him.
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe she saved your ass just to set you up?”
I didn’t want to call my brother stupid, but he was moving dumb as fuck!
“What, you think it’s a coincidence that your girl’s fucking pops is getting ready to indict us? And you think she’s not connected somehow?”
Surge just sat there looking at the folder while shaking his head no like that was gonna change anything.
“I thought you were fucking smarter than that, Surge! Never had this nigga been so close to us, and he hasn’t, not until you started fucking his damn daughter! From the moment you knew who the fuck she was, you should have dealt with it! Now, look, nigga!”
Surge stared at the folder for a little longer and then looked up at me.
“Wrath, I-I—”
The nigga was so shocked he was stumbling over his own words.
“Yeah, let me guess. You fucked up?” I finished for him knowing exactly what he was going to say since it was something he had been saying quite often.
Don’t for a second think that I believed I was perfect because I was far from it. But I didn’t keep making the same fucking mistake and expecting a different result! This nigga knew, and still, he kept fucking with her.
He thought I didn’t know, but I knew because I knew my fucking brother.
Surge was good and quick with his shit, so the fact they were both still alive, I knew why. I was just giving my brother the benefit of doubt and hoping he would deal with it like he said he would!
Maybe that was my fuck up. I trusted him.
“Now, what the fuck you gonna do about it?” I asked as he looked up at me and no words came out.
Dior Alfred
Hearing my cell phone receive a message caused me to damn near bust my ass rushing out of the bathroom to get to it. The excitement I had, believing it was Jashawn, dropped when I saw that it was James.
For some strange reason, that nigga had popped up again and started blowing up my phone. Well, I say for some strange reason, but I knew it was because of my parents. After they found out who my boyfriend was, they went running back to James, hoping he would be able to take me away from Jashawn. Bu,t just like I told James; they were wasting their time.
Now knowing it was James and not Jashawn, I rolled my eyes.
“This fool has been calling me and texting me, and still won’t get the message,” I mumbled to myself.
Before I got in contact with Shawn again, after my dad ran him out of his house, James had been calling. He didn’t stand a chance before, even if Shawn didn’t talk to me again, but now that we were back on track, he definitely didn’t stand a chance!
My mind told me not to even entertain or read his message and just delete it like I had been doing but curiosity—wanting to know what he said—got the best of me, so I opened the message to read it.
James: So, you would rather have a criminal than a man like me? Maybe you are crazy after all, Dior. Tell me, how has it worked out being with a thug like him? If you come to your senses now, I might take you back.
My top lip curled in disgust, and I wanted to cuss his lame ass out, but knowing he just simply wasn’t worth it, I deleted the message—which I should have done in the beginning—and put my phone back down.
Just as I turned around to go back into the bathroom and finish cleaning up, my cell started ringing.
I groaned and turned to look at it, believing it was James since I didn’t text him back but instantly smiled when I saw that it was Jashawn.
I didn’t know if it was because I knew we were fighting to be together against the odds or what it was, but I found myself becoming more obsessed with him than I was before. If I could, I would be up under Jashawn all the time. And the fact that he was willing to take a chance on us despite what his family thought, made him that more irresistible to me.
Smiling hard like a crazy person, I snatched the phone up and answered it.
“Hey, baby, I was just thinking about you.”
“Where are you?”
His tone caught me by surprise and made my smile fall from my face. He sounded angry, and I didn’t know if it was aimed at me or not!
“Dior!” he snapped since I hadn’t answered him yet.
“Um, I’m at home.”
The line went silent for a second before I heard his voice again.
“I’m coming over right now. Don’t leave.”
“Okay,” I barely managed to say before he hung up on me.
“What is wrong?” I thought out loud as I sat on the edge of my bed in a daze.
The last time I saw Jashawn, we were good. We had both decided we would stay together after I reassured him that my dad would stop what he was doing.
All I was waiting for now was my dad to call me to finally talk, and then we could go talk to Shawn’s brothers. My dad was a very proud man and wasn’t someone who liked to admit that he was wrong. So, I knew it would be a minute before he swallowed his pride and called me.
As I sat on the bed waiting for Shawn to arrive, all type of thoughts ran through my head on why he sounded so angry.
Did his brothers find out about us being together, and were they demanding he stop? Were they still going to kill my dad anyway? Did he change his mind on being with me after all? Did he still believe I was lying to him?
The sound of my front door opening and closing pulled me from my thoughts. I swallowed hard as I stood to my feet and waited for Jashawn to appear in the doorway.
I had given him a key as a way to show him that he could trust me.
The sound of his heavy feet stomping toward me had my body shaking because I had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth. When his body finally appeared in the doorway, the look on his face said it all. He was beyond angry, and from the way his eyes bore into my face, I knew right then and there that he was angry with me.
“Ja-Jashawn?” my voice cracked as I called out to him because he was just standing there staring at me like I was a stranger.
I thought the night we officially met outside of my grandmother’s building was the night Jashawn gave me a look that put fear into me like no other. However, the look on his face that night was nothing compared to how he was looking at me right now.
It was a look that told me he wanted to kill me with his bare hands if he could.
We just stood in my bedroom looking at each other. His breathing was heavy, indicating his anger, and all I could do was swallow hard again.
“Jashawn, what’s wrong?”
At this point, I would have preferred if he just yelled at me or something because his stare was scaring me.
I jumped when he flashed his wrist my direction and threw a brown folder at me. Pictures and paperwork sprawled across my floor, and some landed on my feet.
My eyes dropped down to them before I lifted them to look up at him.
“What’s this?” I asked.
Jashawn stared at me for a few more seconds as he angrily bit into his bottom lip—eyes dripping with fire and darkness—before he turned and walked away without a word after throwing something else to the floor.
My mouth dropped when I saw that it was the key to my apartment.
“Jashawn!” I yelled and chased after him.
By the time I made it to my front door, he was already at his car.
“Jashawn!” I called out to him again.
Witho
ut even looking back at me, he climbed into his car and sped away. Tears pooled in my eyes.
I closed the door behind me and rushed back to my room to see what he had thrown at me. Dropping to my knees and trying hard to stop tears from falling, I picked up the folder and all that had fallen out of it.
“Oh my god!” Quickly left my lips when I saw what he had thrown at me.
Tears flowed down my cheeks, and I closed my eyes.
I thought he would have stopped, I thought.
The whole time, I was so sure that my dad would stop investigating Jashawn and his brothers after I spoke to him. I was so sure that I had even convinced Jashawn, and now look what was happening.
My eyes opened, and my tears immediately dried up when anger took over.
Standing to my feet, I ran over to my closet and changed out of the booty shorts and tank I was wearing.
Once I was dressed, I pushed my feet into my Ugg boots, grabbed the folder—making sure I had everything that was inside of it—grabbed my keys and rushed out of my house.
I sped the whole way to my parents’ house, not even caring that I could have been pulled over for speeding. Nothing but seeing my dad was on my mind.
When I pulled up outside, I didn’t even cut my car off before I ran out of it and started banging on the door like a crazy woman. It was about nine at night, and a few of our neighbors looked at me from their windows, but I didn’t give a damn.
After trying my best to beat the front door in, it was finally pulled open by my mother.
“Dior? What has gotten into you?” she asked, obviously annoyed by how I was beating their door in, but I didn’t even answer her.
With the folder gripped tightly in my hand, I raced around the house searching for my dad until I found him sitting in the living room reading a newspaper like shit was sweet.
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” I growled and threw the folder at him.
It smacked him on the stomach, and he moved the newspaper to frown at me.
His eyes landed on the folder, and I watched as he put down the newspaper, picked up the folder, and looked inside.
All the color in my dad’s face left, and his mouth dropped.
“Do you think doing all of this will make me come back or change anything?” I yelled at him.
He slowly stood to his feet and stared at me.
“Dior.”
“No! This won’t change shit, and you know it! None of this will bring Dean back! You’re only doing this to find someone to blame!”
“They are to blame!” he yelled.
“I blame Dean!” His eyes widened at my confession, but I didn’t care. “And I blame you!” I pointed at him.
“Dior, stop it!” my mother yelled after me, and I shook my head no because my father needed to hear everything I had to say.
“This isn’t Jashawn’s doing. Dean was selfish, Daddy! If it wasn’t Jashawn’s men, it would have been someone else because he chose to take those drugs. Nobody held a gun to his head and forced him. I blame Dean, not Jashawn, and I blame you!”
This was the first time I had brought up my dead brother.
My dad’s eyes widened and watered from my words while my mother gasped.
“I blame you because you were never home, Daddy. I tried to talk to Dean, and so did Mama, but he wanted you! And you were too busy running around trying to be the next best detective that you neglected us. Dean went out in the streets looking for someone to replace you. That’s how he ended up with the friends he was with that led him to drugs!”
Losing my brother and so young too, was the hardest thing I had ever dealt with in my life. I loved my little brother—he was my everything and my biggest cheerleader. We were so close, and when he died, it took a toll on me.
I vowed never to talk about it or what I really thought caused my brother’s death—and that was my dad.
“You think going after Jashawn will make you feel better for your failures, but it won’t! You failed us, and now you think destroying Jashawn’s life will make you feel better? Well, I won’t stand around and let you destroy anyone else’s life.”
My dad was so shocked that he was yet to speak, but that was okay because I was going to get everything off my chest.
“You called Shawn a thug and scum, but you’re the worst kind out there.”
“Don’t talk to me like that over that motherfucker!” He growled at me, and I smirked at him.
“I wonder how all your little friends will feel to know about all the people you killed to keep your dirty little secrets. How you locked up kingpins just so that your best friend could become the biggest kingpin in New Jersey. Or how much drugs you sold while carrying that badge you care more about! Or how you bought this house with blood money!”
When I told my father that he was no different from Jashawn, I wasn’t just talking. My dad was dirty and may have fooled everyone else around him, but I knew the truth. Even when he tried to hide it from me, I still knew.
And that was why I was so angry at how he was treating Jashawn. My dad was the pot calling the kettle black. His hands were so dirty, he made Shawn and his family look like saints.
My god father, Trojan, was the biggest kingpin in New Jersey, and my father helped him get there. So, he could stand there with that holier than thou attitude, but I knew the real him!
“At least Jashawn is giving back to the community, but you don’t give back to anyone but yourself!”
“Are you threatening me? Over that motherfucker?” my dad questioned me and threw the folder down on the sofa.
“I’m standing up for what is right, and you are not, Dad. I will not stand behind you on this. If you were going after him because you really believed in the oath you took as a cop, then maybe I could understand. But I know you’re only doing it so that you don’t have to accept that you’re the reason why Dean is dead. You want someone to blame, go look in a damn mirror!”
I was so angry that tears were flowing down my face. Talking to my father in this way was something I would never dream of doing. However, I was tired of hiding the truth to spare his feelings. My brother went to the streets to fill the void of my absent father, and he found a gang who ultimately introduced him to drugs.
My mama and I had tried talking to Dean as soon as we found out he was taking drugs. We had even told my dad, but he was too busy making a name for himself.
His solution to it all was just to send Dean to live with my grandmother—like it was her responsibility—and Dean was so depressed by what my father did that he overdosed on drugs.
“All he wanted was you, Daddy, and you were not there. Blaming someone else won’t bring him back, and I know this isn’t what he would have wanted. I will admit that I blamed the drug dealers too, but we both know they didn’t cause this. All it was doing was making me a bitter person like you.”
My dad’s eyes looked down at the carpet, and from his clenched fists, I knew he was angry.
“Just know if Jashawn is going down, you’re going with him,” I promised, and he looked up at me. “And congratulations. You just lost both of your kids.”
He stood there and watched as I walked out of the house meaning every damn word I spoke. If Jashawn went, so did my dad. I wasn’t going to stand around and let Shawn suffer for the sins of my family.
4
Pharaoh ‘Legion’ Ramsey
Few Nights Later
Shit was fucked up. In fact, to say it was fucked up was an understatement. My family was falling apart right before my eyes, and I had no idea how to fix shit.
Wrath wasn’t fucking with Surge after finding out that pussy ass detective was drawing up indictments on us. And Surge was missing in action. Since he walked out of the warehouse once Wrath damn near snapped his fucking neck, he had been ghost.
I knew Surge was hiding because he felt fucked up, and Wrath was keeping away from him, so he wouldn’t end up killing him. Wrath felt played, and I could see how, even though
I knew Surge wouldn’t have purposely done that shit.
I didn’t know if it came down to A’Moya how I would be able to kill her and live with myself after. And I knew my bro was feeling Dior on another level than I was feeling A’Moya since they had been together longer. Still, knew at this point that I wouldn’t be able to hurt her either.
If I was honest, I was torn as fuck because after meeting Dior a few times, I couldn’t see her setting Jashawn up. It just didn’t make any fucking sense to me. I saw the way her eyes lit up when she saw my bro—sis was into him. A blind man could see that shit.
So why her helping her dad set him up didn’t make sense to me. But then another side was with Wrath because where the fuck was this detective getting his information from? He had shit on us like he fucking knew us, so that had me looking at Dior sideways since it was her pops doing the shit.
Like I said, everything was a fucking mess. Well, my family life and business life were a damn mess, but my love life was on point. Shit! I said love life, but that’s exactly what it was.
I knew in my soul that I was past like with A’Moya, but the nigga in me wasn’t ready to say it out loud. The only woman I ever said I loved was my mama and look what I did to her. Day by day, it got easier, and even the dreams stopped but another nightmare plagued my brain—would I end up hurting A’Moya?
The fear of not being able to control the beast I always believed myself to be and hurting A’Moya once I admitted that I loved her. That fear kept me from telling her physically with my mouth, but it didn’t stop me from showing her every single day.
One way was by taking that sign language class to let her know how serious I was taking what I had in her. A’Moya was an emotional creature, and a cry baby ass head girl, but that shit did nothing but made me want her more.
She had taught me that having emotions or tears wasn’t an evil thing. And I took it as her being thankful for me and the things I did. Like I said, I was a different man, and she was the reason. Which is why we were currently on our way for her to meet my little sister.
