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“As far as the situation with Denim, Reggie, you have to know that you pistol whipped a pregnant woman. A pregnant woman who is still in a coma, fighting for her life as we speak. With the charges against you, there is no doubt that you will serve time. As your lawyer, I’m going to try to keep you from getting a life sentence,” he said.
I knew about the twelve-year-old son and his bitch ass daddy, Karl, who my lawyer, Moses, was referring to. Of course, I would not admit to shit, though. Lawyer or not, I didn’t trust a motha fuckin’ soul! For all I knew, this shit could have been a fuckin’ setup, and this nigga was trying to get me to talk, so I could incriminate my damn self.
Before y’all judge a nigga, thinking that I’m heartless for killing a little boy, that’s not even the way shit was supposed to go down. Karl was just supposed to be a lick for me and my nigga, Nate. No, I ain’t proud of some of the shit I do, but hitting licks was just some shit that was in me. I had been doing that shit since I was ten. Karl was an underground rapper in Miami, and he was a flashy ass nigga, always showing his money, his jewelry, and shit online. If you floss that shit in the wrong nigga’s face, it was only a matter of time before a nigga like me came and took it!
Nate told me that Karl still lived in the projects, and he knew which unit was his. He asked me if I wanted in on the lick. Me, never being the type of nigga to turn down some money, yeah, I wanted in. Shit just turned into a fuckin’ blood bath that night. It was easy getting in, but I didn’t expect to have to kill a nigga that night. To have to kill two people that night! The second we kicked through the door, bullets flew, but with this not being my first shoot out, I knew how to dodge bullets, so quickly, we had Karl down, but then more bullets started flying from inside the apartment. I eventually put the other person down and shot him right between his eyes. It was his 12-year-old son.
Look, I wanted to leave the scene, but Nate said we needed to hide the bodies. He grabbed a body, and I got one, and we drove them far, far away. Now, Nate and I were the only two people who knew about the shit that went down that night, although we promised to never bring that shit up again, neither would we ever disclose where the bodies were.
We did all of that and didn’t even leave with no money or no fuckin’ jewelry. If I was about to get hit with this murder, it would be pointless because I didn’t gain shit that night but two more bodies to add on my list. Now, the thing is, since Nate and I were the only two people who knew about that shit, it made me wonder if this nigga, who I’ve known since I was two years old, was running his fuckin’ mouth to the pigs. I didn’t want to believe that shit, but Nate was the only nigga who knew my deepest and my darkest secrets, so it had to have been him.
I had been in this jail for almost a week, and I called his phone every day since I’d been in this bitch. He hadn’t answered the phone for a nigga yet, so it had me looking at him sideways. If this nigga thought he would pin some shit on a nigga that we participated in together, I would have everybody in his fuckin’ family dead, and I would start with his old ass grandma! I may be locked, but my niggas ain’t!
“What are you going to fight for me to get then?” I asked after I had zoned out for a little bit and thought about some deep shit.
Damn right, I was scared. I had done my fair share of shit over the years, but I ain’t ever been caught for shit because I was always slick with the way I moved. I caught my first body when I was fifteen years old, and cops never even bothered to sniff my way. My mama used to always tell me I would run out of luck one day, but her shit always went in one ear and out of the other. When you were doing bad, you ain’t want to hear no shit like that, so I just kept on fuckin’ around with my luck, thinking that a nigga was too fuckin’ smart to ever get caught doing the shit I was doing.
“Looking over the charges and knowing the different ways I can go around it, I can get you fifty years,” he said.
“Fifty years? Fifty years? Motha fucka, are you high? You say that shit like it’s nothing!” I barked, hitting the table with my hands that were still in cuffs.
If I could stand up and get to him, a nigga would have beat the fuck out of him for even letting that shit come out of his mouth so easily. If fifty years was what he was fighting to get me, then what the fuck was my mama paying him for? If that was the case, then I might as well get a fuckin’ public defender and let them represent me for free.
“With possible parole after you’ve served at least fifty percent of the sentence. Reggie, I need you to understand that fifty years beats a life sentence. I need you to understand that if whoever is working with the police can prove that you are the one responsible for making those two bodies disappear, you will be jumping for joy at a fifty-year sentence. If they prove it was you, you can possibly be looking at four life sentences for four murders. That’s only if Denim and the baby don’t make it.
“You aren’t a saint in this situation, so please save me the theatrics! I got some intel from one of the officers working with whoever is singing on you. The bodies that they are looking for belong to Karl Washington and his son, Bryson Washington, but I’m sure you are aware of that! Anyway, the case has been broadcast for months, and for months, officers have assumed it involved a drug deal gone bad because Mr. Washington definitely has a record. As far as I’m concerned, anyone could have killed him and his son and planted those bodies wherever, but the thing is, whoever is singing, they are saying that they have solid proof that it was you who took them both out and—”
“Is Nate the person that’s snitching?” I asked, cutting him off.
“I can’t answer that,” he replied.
“Man, this some bullshit. So, you’re basically telling me that it’s no way that Ima get a bail? I just got to sit in this bitch and wait until I see a judge?” I asked.
Moses released a sigh and closed the manila folder that he had in front of him.
“Sadly, yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. When you go back to your cell, you just pray that Denim wakes up from this and that she and the baby will be fine. What makes your case a little different from the hundreds of others that I’ve had to defend over the years is that the proof is literally right there. There are working cameras all around the apartment building at Denim’s residence. The cameras picked you up walking into the apartment, and they picked you up running out, tucking the gun in your pants, and you had Denim’s blood on your shirt.
“You can say that the drugs weren’t yours all you want, but the truth remains that you were picked up in a home that resembled a damn trap house! Lastly, if there is proof that you are responsible for Karl and Bryson’s murder and the disposal of their bodies, then you give me something more that I have to dissect. You’re not even thirty yet, and trust me, I will not sleep well at night, knowing that I didn’t fight hard enough to give a black man a chance, and he had to get a life sentence. I need you to trust me, Reggie, and know that I’m going to do everything in my power to give you a fair shot. I’ll see you soon,” he concluded as he stood up from his chair, holding his briefcase. He then knocked on the door to be let out.
One of the guards came and opened the door for him. Soon after, I was escorted back to my cell. My cellmate, I swear, all this nigga did was lay his big ass in the bed and sleep all fuckin’ day. I climbed up to the top of the cell and buried my head in my hands. Just the thought that I could get a fifty-year sentence, or even worse… a life sentence, I swear that shit brought tears to a nigga’s eyes, and a nigga like me didn’t ever fuckin’ cry. My homeboys were turning on me, a bitch had lied and manipulated the fuck out of me for the past five years, and all because I didn’t know how to control my actions, a nigga had to be in this position now.
I thought about my mama and how a nigga was about to make one of her biggest fears come true. She told me all the time that her biggest fear was that a nigga would end up in a prison cell or in a casket. That brought tears to my eyes because, once again, I was another nigga in her life, breaking her heart. It started with whoever her bitch ass daddy was, then it went to whoever the fuck my daddy was, and here I am, doing the same thing, leaving her to live in this fucked up world by herself.
“I hope you’re outside. I just got off the plane, and I’m about to walk out the doors now,” Normani said, ordering a nigga around like she always did.
It was Sunday morning, and I was outside the airport with bells on. I missed her ass so fuckin’ much that I had pulled up about an hour ago, too fuckin’ eager to see her ass. Although I was there, it wouldn’t be me not to fuck with her and pretend I wasn’t there, though.
“Shit! Shit! Damn! It is 1:50! Fuck! Ima leave right now, baby, and I should be there in twenty minutes,” I said, trying to stifle my laughter as I stood in front of my car with my back propped up against it, holding a red rose.
There were hundreds and hundreds of people just standing around, coming in and out of the airport, waiting for an Uber, or just standing curbside, waiting for family or friends to pick them up. We were at Miami International, and this damn airport was always busy. I liked to fly out of Fort Lauderdale because I felt like that airport was less busy.
I heard Normani suck her teeth on the other end of the lin
e, and I could picture her now, rolling them big ass gray eyes of hers.
“Billionaire... what? Like seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? You literally had my flight itinerary a whole week ago! I just talked to you on the phone last night and reminded you what time to be here today, and I texted it over to you again this morning! You know what? Don’t even come! I’m going to get in one of these ride sharing cars! You seriously know how to work my nerves!” she bitched.
The whole time she ran her mouth, my eyes were on her as she made her way out of the building. She was so fuckin’ pretty in her black Versace shirt that clung to her body. Across the front of the shirt was the word Versace in gold letters. She paired it with black and gold high waisted Versace tights. I couldn’t see her shoes from where I stood, but from how high up she was standing, I knew she had to have on heels. Her hair was still straight, and she had it parted down the middle. The phone was still glued to her ear, so I could see the gold Rolex watch on her wrist and the diamond stud earrings in her ears just flashing away. She was pulling her carry-on in one hand, and her purse was on her other shoulder. The big coat she used for New York was draped across her other arm.
