Never again no more 6, p.20
Never Again, No More 6, page 20
Trinity ran over to Thomas and helped him up. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
Thomas stumbled up and waved her off. “I’m fine.” He could barely mumble. “Fuck you, T,” he grumbled as he staggered toward the front door, but it came out sounding all jumbled because of his injuries.
I shrugged. “Be out, nigga.” I pointed to the door with my back toward him from the sofa. “And don’t come back.”
Trinity walked to me. “That’s your fam. He’s just going through it because of Aaron.”
“And I’m going through it because of what they put us through. Just be with me on this,” I fumed, putting up my hand to end the conversation.
Leaning forward, she hugged me tightly. “I’m with you. We’re all we need,” she said as I embraced her back. Her concession was a breath of fresh air to my wounded soul.
Thomas exited and slammed the door. A few seconds later and out of nowhere, we heard gunshots.
“Oh, shit!” Trinity screamed.
“Get the fuck down!”
I crawled to my entertainment system and grabbed my chrome-plated .45 that I kept hidden in a small compartment. I rushed to the door, opened it, and slowly peered out. I figured I was gonna have to exchange gunfire with Thomas, but the sight before me caused the air to catch in my chest. Thomas was lying face down on the ground with blood all around him. He hadn’t been doing the shooting. He was the one shot.
“Oh, shit! Thomas is hit!” I turned on the security lights and wobbled out the door, looking for suspects. All I saw were the taillights of some car turning the corner at the end of the long street.
Trinity ran to the doorway, screaming and crying.
“No!” I stopped her in her tracks. “Go back in the house. Dial 911. Get some help!”
She nodded and quickly turned and grabbed her cell phone as she stood by the window, peering out. I could hear her frantically speaking with the 911 operator.
I turned Thomas over and started doing CPR. “Come on, muthafucka. Don’t you die on me!” I yelled. “Come on!”
His breathing was shallow, and I could hear the blood gurgling in his throat. “Shit!” I yelled as my neighbors screamed in horror as they began to gather. “Come on, Thomas. I’m so sorry, dude. Come on.” I continued the CPR.
Soon, the ambulance pulled up in my driveway and prepared to carry him off to the hospital.
“You can follow us, sir,” the paramedic informed me.
I went in the house, and Trinity already had her purse and keys ready. I slipped my gun in her purse. “Keep that on you. We might need it.”
“Who could’ve done this?” Trinity asked through her tears.
“Only one person would be ballsy enough to bring it to my house like that. As soon as I finish up business at this hospital, I’ma see that nigga,” I said as we got in her Mercedes.
She drove, following the ambulance, and looked over at me. “Pooch.”
I nodded slowly. “Now I’ma give that nigga something he’ll always remember. It’s curtains for that bitch. I’m done playing.”
Chapter 19
Pooch
I felt my cell phone buzz as I threw the laundry in the big bin. I rolled the bin to the side where the others were and quickly pulled out my cell. It was a text message from Flava.
The grass has been watered.
I smiled to myself and texted back. Tell the kids thanks for taking care of their chores. Make sure they get a good allowance.
I’ll do that. Love you, babe.
Love you, too, always.
I put my cell phone away and finished up with my duty detail. The whole time, I could barely contain my smile. After all this time, I’d finally touched that nigga. Muthafuckas need to be more appreciative when you spare them. I guess that nigga forgot who I was since I was on lockdown. It was time to send him and everybody else in the game from the suburbs to the hoods a reminder that I was still a force to be reckoned with. I had to send a message to make all them muthafuckas remember that shit. Especially Terrence and Trinity.
That bitch was lucky that Princess was my baby, or it would’ve been her ass on the chopping block, too. I guess it’s true what they say. Kids do change you. My sister had enough children to tend to, and my mom ain’t been right in the head since Pops got killed. With me and the majority of all her brothers and nephews doing federal time, she wasn’t fit for shit. She would be no good to raise Princess. By default, Trinity was spared. That bitch had more lives than a cat.
It didn’t matter, though, because I got my point across. That was the shit that happened when you crossed Pooch. That was the shit that happened when you didn’t follow through. Prison and near-death had made me soft-hearted. Weakened me. I’d been so focused on getting out that I’d let too much shit slide, and I’d let my love and loyalty to Trinity outweigh the shit that needed to be done. It only took one thing to make a man snap, and that was when another man tried his manhood. I knew Terrence was doing the manly thing by confronting me about trying to make a deal with Trinity. That was what he was supposed to do. I woulda done the same thing if the roles were reversed, but once you showed your cards, you had to be ready to play your hand. I was ready. He wasn’t.
I would never tell a soul, but I did feel a twinge of guilt about the situation. Even though my love had run out for Trinity and my loyalty to her was now only because of my seed, I knew that taking that nigga away from her might just kill her on the inside, and I worried about Princess, Terry, and Brittany. I might not have been the best father and stepfather to them, but even through all of this, I loved them and cared about their wellbeing. Hell, I even thought about the baby from time to time, even though he wasn’t mine. A part of me still wished he were, and if I’m honest, a part of me still felt as if he was. I know that Trinity’s mom would step in and be there for the kids if Trinity ever couldn’t, so that twinge of guilt was short lived. I hated to be the one to break their hearts, but their daddy asked for it, so I delivered it. The moral of the story was: be careful what you ask for, because you just might get it.
The oddest thing came over me after I finished my detail. I felt the urge to pray. Therefore, I said a silent one. God, Father, Jesus, and Christ . . . all y’all. Look, I fucked up. Yep, I know it. It ain’t even in me to apologize for it because I knew exactly what I was doing. I don’t know how not to be the way I am. It’s how I’m built. Forgive me for being who I am. It ain’t right, but I can’t help it. I guess at least send his soul to Heaven, please. I can at least pray for that. I tried. All right then. I guess that’s it. Amen.
I went into the recreational room for the first time in a long time and sat at one of the tables closest to the television then got in on a game of Spades with a couple of dudes in my cell block.
Suddenly, I heard one of the other cats shout out, “Yo, cut that up,” and we all turned around to see the news.
“In another late-breaking story today, tragedy has rocked a suburban community in Evanston, Illinois this afternoon with what appears to be an apparent drive-by shooting. Witnesses say they heard what sounded like fireworks going off at the residence on Asbury Lane only to find out that it was actually gunfire. They say nothing like that has ever happened in this community, and they are appalled that such incidents have found their way into their neighborhood. Investigators tell us that the shooting victim, twenty-six-year-old Thomas Marsh, was shot twice in the front yard of a residence on Asbury Lane. Currently, he is in critical condition. Thomas Marsh is the brother of recently slain police officer Detective Aaron Marsh, who was killed as result of a sordid love triangle. Police are not releasing any further details about the investigation at this time, and there are no reports that this incident is related to the previous shooting of Detective Marsh. At this time, no suspects have been identified. We will be following this story closely as it unfolds,” the news anchor reported.
“Damn, Pooch, your people are back on the news again,” one of the dudes at the table said. “You sure you ain’t got nothing to do with that?”
I sucked my teeth. “Nigga, I’m locked up. I ain’t fuckin’ wit’ none of them cats. Play your fuckin’ hand and quit tryna add time to my muthafuckin’ bid.”
I played that hand and the next until it was time to go to Bible study. I took my Bible in there and turned to the book of Hebrews just as the good reverend said. Then I slipped my cell phone in front of me, hidden by the Bible, and texted Flava.
They watered the wrong fuckin’ grass.
I heard. I’m on it. The kids are gonna go back out and finish their chores.
No. It’s too late. The sun’s out. Take the allowance back and wait until I can find another chore for them to do. And next time get it right.
They are very sorry. We all are.
Yeah, I know.
I powered the phone off and slid it back in my pocket.
“Vernon, would you like to read the verse aloud tonight?” the reverend asked me.
I looked up at him. “Huh? My fault. I didn’t hear the chapter and verse.”
“Could you read for us Hebrews chapter eleven verse one?”
I nodded. “Sure, Rev.” I flipped to the verse. “For faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen.”
“Let’s talk tonight about faith, gentlemen.”
I sat back and pondered that. Yep, let’s talk about faith. Faith was the only thing I had for whenever I finally did get to touch Terrence for real. I had faith that I could do it. I had faith that I had the right team in place to do it, but the evidence that it had been done was still not there.
My patience was running thin. Somebody had to start doing something right this time around because in this game, mistakes were costly, and that one was a greater cost than anyone could dream. I knew by this time Terrence had already pointed his finger at me. Even if I wasn’t the one who’d set up the hit, I knew I’d be the first person he’d accuse. Now, I ain’t no scared-ass cat by any means, but there were three advantages that Terrence had over me: the freedom to make moves, the money to make shit happen, and the heart to do it. Don’t get it twisted. I knew people viewed Terrence as this easygoing, smart cat who got caught up in the game, but that nigga was a beast. A smart, cold, calculating ghetto beast. He had the balls to make the moves, and he was efficient enough not to have it traced back to him even if he did it himself.
Real recognized real, and for those who didn’t really know Terrence, that nigga was real. I don’t even think Trinity knew how really real he was ’cause he was one way in front of his family and a completely different way in the streets. Now these idiots made me a sitting target, and my only prayer was that while Thomas’s bitch ass was laid up in that hospital, it kept Terrence at bay long enough to give me the opportunity to make my next move. Otherwise, the next time I might see the inside of a chapel was during my eulogy. And Terrence had enough money, power, and front businesses to pull it off.
Chapter 20
Ryan
“Ryan, is it true that you were having an affair with your ex-girlfriend, supermodel Iris?” a reporter shouted at me as I exited the courtroom, starting the flurry of questions.
“Ryan, did you have an affair while on vacation in the Grand Cayman Islands? Is it true that you frequented strip clubs and adult after-hours spots with other fellow teammates? How do you feel now that your divorce is final? Will you go back to Iris? Will you remain single?”
“My client has no comment at this time. Please respect his privacy,” my attorney announced as we pushed past the crowds of people and the sea of reporters.
I jumped into the back of the limo with my attorney, unbuttoned my long pea coat, and took off my leather cap and gloves. My attorney handed me a glass of brandy, and I swallowed it in damn near one gulp. He looked at me with sorrowful eyes as I leaned my head back against the headrest. Tears found their way into my eyes, and I rubbed my hand across my face to keep them from falling.
It was officially over now. My marriage. With my celebrity status, it was only a matter of time before news of my divorce hit every media outlet in America. When it did hit, those pesky, meddling, ruthless reporters managed to dig up every detail that wasn’t even mentioned in the filing of the case. The friends I thought I had blabbed all they knew about my partying antics at the titty bars and the after-hours spots. Of course, Iris’s big payback was to confirm that we’d been intimate with each other during my marriage. I’d lost a couple of endorsement deals that were family-oriented and a movie role because my recent immoral acts tainted my image. The people I thought were on my side were nowhere to be found during my darkest hour. The public slaughtered me because of my mistreatment of Charice after the death of our daughter. Even my parents, who stood by me in public, showed very little support in private. My mom was infuriated with me, and my dad was disappointed.
I couldn’t even look Charice in the eyes, but what bothered me the worst was the hurt in my boys’ eyes and hearts. They suffered the most because of my indiscretions, and that broke me down. Ray was like his mom, so while he hurt, he still wanted to hold on to me as his daddy, but Ryan Jr. was a different story. He not only looked like me, but he was also cut from the same cloth. He rode hard for his mom just like I would’ve for mine, and he made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with me. I prayed that time would heal his wounds and that if I kept pressing, he’d let me back in. I’d just gotten them in my life, and after the loss of Charity, I deeply regretted never having been there from the start. Maybe if I had, he would still want to be around me despite the hurt of the divorce.
You’d think that it was some high-profile criminal case or a nasty divorce settlement the way the media and the crowds gathered, but it was only a meeting in front of the judge to finalize the agreement and terms of our divorce. No arguments, no battles, no drama. Just short and simple. In a twist that shocked me, Charice had withdrawn her request for alimony, but just to let her know I didn’t harbor any bad feelings I had insisted that she keep it. She was shocked. She walked away with everything she wanted, and I walked away with nothing I wanted.
What did I want? Just one thing. My family. I’d plotted and schemed my way in and out of my wife’s life, and if I could take it all back, I would, and not just starting at the marriage. I would take it back to the day she told me she was pregnant with the triplets. I’d hug her and tell her we’d get through it together. I’d enlist my parents’ help to make sure her pregnancy went well. I would’ve been there for her and the triplets. I would’ve married her the moment I got drafted, and I would’ve been faithful. But that was hindsight. In the present reality, there was no room for shoulda, coulda, or woulda. I had made my bed, and I was lying knee-deep in all the shit I’d stirred up since high school.
A single, bloated tear fell from my eye as my attorney handed me another glass of brandy.
“Are you going to be okay, Ryan?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I have no choice but to be,” I said as I drank a swig of the liquor.
As we rolled past a park where Charice and I used to stroll through late nights, I saw her standing by one of our favorite spots. “Driver! Stop the car and pull over,” I demanded.
“Is everything all right, Ryan?” my attorney asked.
“Yes. I’ll be back.” I opened the car door and got out. I buttoned my jacket and approached Charice.
“I’m shocked to see you here,” I said.
She turned to face me with tears in her eyes. “Yeah. I just needed to clear my head. That’s all.”
I walked over to her, clasping her face between my hands, then wiped her tears with my thumbs. “Don’t cry.”
Gazing up at me, she offered a tepid smile. “I can’t believe it’s actually over. I mean, this is what I wanted and needed, but I never got married with the intent of getting a divorce. I’ve loved you for so long that it seems almost surreal to let you go. Like I should be with you even if I hate you.”
My hands slipped from her face, and my brow lifted at her candid comment. This new Charice was damn sure a spitfire if nothing else. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Wow. Well, I’m glad you left before it came to that.”
“I’m just saying. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I understand.” I put my hand up, showing I didn’t take offense.
Looking at me intently, she released a slow, deep breath. “Where do we go from here?”
“We go one day at a time. I have to rebuild my relationship with Junior and keep nurturing my relationship with Ray.”
“Junior loves you. He’s just hurt by all of this. He’ll come around. But how fast he does depends on you. Don’t let them down this time, Ryan. Please.”
Ashamed, I held my head down as I explained, “I won’t. I never should’ve let them or you down the first time. But you live and you learn.”
Charice released breath from the pit of her belly. “Ain’t that the truth?”
Without notice, the tears I’d been holding back silently fell from my eyes, and I grabbed her hands and caressed them. “You know, it took me all the way to our divorce to realize what I had in you. From the beginning to the end, you were my rock, and I failed you, Charice. If you never believe anything else I say, believe this: I love you from the bottom of my heart, and for every hurt and hell I put you through, I’m so sorry. I wish you nothing but the very best, and I pray you find the love you deserve.”
Charice’s lip began to quiver, and she held her hand to her mouth as tears streamed down her face. After a few moments, she was able to gather herself enough to let out a shaky response. “Ryan, I needed that like I need air. Thank you. I accept that, and I forgive you. I really do.” She cried as we embraced each other.
“No, thank you.”
She pulled back and looked away. “I have a confession to make.”
“What is that?” I asked her, placing the curl of my index finger at her chin and forcing her to look into my eyes.
Nervously, she confessed, “I hope you can forgive me, but I had an affair, too. I cheated with Lincoln.”
