Crave All Lose All (30 page)

My gun was trained at the bedroom entrance and waited. Time was moving slow. The door opened and Shae walked in. She saw me with the gun aimed at her head she gasped and jumped back, her hand over her chest.

“Vincent…Ohmygod,” she cried out. “I thought you were still out of town.”

“Shae, what the fuck,” I barked. I was about to take her life, but it was a good thing that I wasn’t trigger-happy.

“Can you please put that gun away,” she said nervously.

I tossed the gun on the bed and asked, “Baby, I thought you left me… where are your clothes?”

She looked at me with uncertainty and then took a deep breath. “I can’t do this with you anymore, Vince.”

“Do what?”

“This life you live….I tried to love you, but I can’t continue to put myself and my son in danger. You’re constantly gone, leaving me here alone. And your ass don’t know how to return phone calls.”

“Then why you come back?” I asked.

“I forgot my son’s medication in the bathroom cabinet.”

“So this is it….after everything I’ve done for you, you just gonna
walk out on me,” I said.

“I thought you were different. I thought this life was only temporary for you. But you’re like my son’s father. You’re just like the rest of them. You’re letting the money control you. I can’t be around a person like that,” she proclaimed.

“Shae…you tell me this shit after my mother had a stroke,” I informed.

“I’m sorry about your mother, my heart goes out to her, but I gotta go,” she said.

“Where are you staying?”

“At a friend’s place, I only came by to get a few things and leave your keys here. But since you’re here,” she said. She began removing the apartment keys from her other keys and handed them to me.

“It ain’t gotta be like this, Shae, you know I love you,” I said.

“I can’t be coming home to guns pointed at me, Vince.”

“I thought you were someone else,” I said.

“And what if I was…you’d be ready to kill them, wouldn’t you? Look at you, you’re paranoid. What if I was home alone with my son and your enemies decide to pay you a visit. I can’t risk our lives. I’ve been through this shit before with Jonathan’s father. It doesn’t get better. I need to think about my safety and my future, Vince. Please respect that.”

“There’s no more chances wit’ you?” I asked.

“I told you in the beginning…please be good to me. But you and your disappearing acts for days and weeks at a time in the streets, I can’t. Me not being able to reach you, having a gun pointed at me is not being good to me,” she said.

“Will I see you again?” I asked.

She sighed, embracing me. I wrapped her petite figure in my arms, always loving the way she felt. I didn’t want to let her go, but I had to.

She pulled away from me and said, “You be safe out here, Vince. Remember this; we cannot always afford to be materially rich and spiritually poor.”

Shae was smart and goal-oriented. She was definitely all woman and wifey. I let her go reluctantly. I was able to give her anything she wanted; money was no thang. But what I couldn’t give her—was a change in me.

Unwillingly, I watched Shae walk out from my life and knew I fucked up letting her go. It was for the best. I chose the streets instead of love. I sighed flopping down on the bed, thinking about the women in my life. I was letting the good ones go so easily—Chandra, Shae, moms dying.

An hour after Shae left, I followed needing to go for a drive. It was cold out when I emerged from the lobby. I zipped up my leather coat and made my way over to the car. I had my keys in my hand and was about to hit the alarm when I saw blue flashing lights racing up to me. It was po-po, I thought. I stood frozen near my car waiting for them to come at me.

I wasn’t going to run and I wasn’t going to fight them. I was going to accept my fate like a man and eat whatever they were gonna throw at me.

It was a single unmarked car with two detectives inside. They hurried out their ride.

“Mr. Grey,” one shouted loudly.

“Yeah…what the fuck y’all want!” I asked with sarcasm dripping from my voice.

“Federal agent Pena. You need to come with us,” agent Pena said showing me identification.

“I know who you are. What’s this about?” I asked.

“Get in the car,” Smith instructed steadfastly.

I reluctantly got into the car with them and they quickly drove off, with me in the backseat.

Within no time, I was sitting in a concrete room with no windows, a long bared table in front of me and a few shaky chairs. I wasn’t handcuffed. I sat and waited. Pena came into the room first, followed by Smith. They kept their eyes on me while taking a seat across from me. Then they sat in their dark tailored fitted suits with their identification tags displayed outside of their suit jackets.

I remained quiet and blew air out of my mouth.

Smith looked at me and said, “Mr. Grey, you’ve been a busy man in the past year…trafficking, murder, drugs…I’m curious, how does a hardworking tax payer like yourself, becomes a major part of our investigation within a year’s time?” he asked rhetorically.

“You tell me,” I replied dryly.

“I ain’t got no time for you to be a smart ass…I’m here to be a friend to you, Vincent,” Smith continued.

“Friend…I don’t have those anymore,” I said.

“Look, we ain’t here to play games with you. We know you’re not a hard ass, so lose the fucking act,” Pena added. “You’re deep into some shit, and you’re going to continue to stink unless you come clean with us.”

“Become a snitch? Are y’all charging me?”

“We’re planning on carrying out over a dozen federal indictments within the month, and guess what; you’re on our list for conspiracy to run a criminal empire, trafficking, murder, racketeering and whatever else we throw at you. You and your peoples have been under surveillance for a long while and here’s where the real fun begins. I already got half a dozen CI’s willing to testify against you and your organization. So you can play ball with us, or take your chances on a losing team.”

I sat there holding on to my composure. I appeared calm and collected on the outside but on the inside, my heart was beating like African drums.

“Quiet now, are we,” agent Smith said.

“Look, either way you look at it, Vincent, you’re fucked. Two of our CI’s have informed us that there’s two contracts out on your head. One confirmed by the Jamaicans, and the next coming from Law. Word on the streets is that you popped his nephew a few months back, now he wants to return the favor. You step out this door and you won’t last a week out there without our protection,” Pena stated. “You’ll be either dead or charged with the indictments coming to you soon.”

“Let’s not forget about your friend, Spoon. I haven’t seen him around lately, any word on where we might find him?” Smith asked.

“You know, just because there is no body, that doesn’t mean there’s no crime,” Pena stated.

“Yo whateva…Spoon, I don’t know where he at,” I lied.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Vincent. We know you had a role in his disappearance. We found his truck stripped and burnt in New Jersey. And the mother of his kids, Melissa, shot to death in her own home early this year. I know they both were friends. They trusted you so much they made you the godfather of their kids. Now they’re murdered and you don’t want to see justice done for the family, for his kids at least?” Smith asked.

“Look, we’re coming for y’all, Vincent. You can become one of many caught standing on the tracks when the trains comes speeding through or you can come aboard and make it easier for yourself. It’s your choice. We want Tyriq and the Jamaicans? You’re just some post 9/11 victim caught up in the system and did what you had to do out there to survive after the layoffs. You give us them and we can give you your life back,” Pena proclaimed.

“Think about your son. He’s a cute and a very smart kid. You can still be a father to him. It’s your choice,” Smith said.

Give me back my life
, I thought. I laughed at the statement. What life?

“You know what, we’ll let you sit here and think about things. We’ll give you a minute to decide,” Pena said.

They both got up and left the room, leaving me alone to contemplate about my life.

The following evening I was at my family’s home. I had time alone for myself while my aunt was at the hospital. The house was quiet. I was surprised that my key still fit the lock. But my mother always wanted me to come home and be a son to her again.

I pulled out the photo book and started looking at old photos of the family from ten to twenty years ago. I sat on the couch with a bottle of Jack Daniels next to me, smiling at the crazy pictures I took with family and friends. It seemed so long ago and in some pictures it looked like I had no worries at all. I was surrounded by many loving memories, happy occasions.

Each photo made me want to jump back in time and breathe a happy life again. There was no such thing. No more happy days in my future.

One particular photo caught my attention and I stared at it for a long time. It was of Spoon, Tyriq and me. We all were twelve or thirteen years old in the picture. It was taken in the park. We had just won the PSAL basketball tournament and were hugged closely together holding up trophies and smiling. My father took the picture of us and he was so proud of us.

That was many years ago, and times have definitely changed. I continued to stare at the photo for a long moment and then slowly began to tear it up, as I did with a few other pictures. I went through the entire photo album and tore up many pictures that made me emotional to look at.

I took a swig from the bottle and drenched myself in memories and sorrow. The world around me now flourished with many enemies coming against me. I had two contracts out on my head and the feds were soon going to indict me. They promised me a second chance of life and freedom, if only I
cooperate and turn state’s witness against the world around me. I was trapped between a rock and a hard place, knowing any road I traveled would lead me to the same dead end street.

I took another swig from the bottle and heard my cell ringing on the glass table. I answered the call.

“Speak to me,” I said.

“You put your fucking hands on my cousin and beat her like you her pimp,” Inf barked.

“Inf, now is not the time,” I said.

“Fuck you, nigga! I told you don’t get fucking stupid. I don’t give a fuck!” he shouted.

“Yo, fuck you Beanie Segal lookin’ muthafucka! You don’t control me, nigga. I fucking run y’all niggas out there. And fuck that ho bitch! The baby probably ain’t even mines anyway,” I retorted.

“I’m gonna see you, Vince. You disrespect me and my family…I’m gonna see you nigga, everything on that,” he said harshly hanging up.

“Fuck him!” I said, tossing away my cell.

Let him come
, I thought. That bitch, Cashmere was grimy and I should’ve seen through her snake-ass. Now she wanted to have her cousin come at me and start a war. The bitch was emotional and didn’t think about the consequences.

I couldn’t worry about that nigga, he was hundred of miles away in Philly and I had my own issues to deal with. But my list of enemies was slowly growing.

“Fuck this,” I uttered.

I got up and wanted to go see my moms at the hospital. I needed to be at her bedside. I tossed the bottle in the sink and got my head right. I left everything the way it was in the house and walked out the door with dusk soon settling over my hood.

I got to my truck and opened the back latch. I went digging through a few items in the back, looking for a few things. I came across the Christmas gift Chandra had giving me a few months back, still wrapped neatly. I never bothered to open it.

Curiosity got the best of me and I opened the gift. It was a huge bible. I chuckled. I began going through it and two pictures fell out. I picked them
up and one was of Chandra and my son, smiling with them hugging each other. It was recent. I smiled and then turned it over and noticed Chandra had written something on the back of it.

I picked up the second photo and it was one taken a while back with all three of us in it this time. It was our first family picture. Vinny was one years old at the time. I turned it over and there was more writing.

I stared at both pictures remembering a time when I was truly happy—before the money, the cars and the rep. I had a family that loved and cared for me so much. I asked myself,
what happened?

I stood next to my seventy-thousand dollar truck and wanted to pray for a change in me and my life. I was scared and needed some help. I had people out to kill me.

I stood out on the streets and cried some. I held both pictures in my hand and knew my end was soon. I haven’t been the father to my son the way I needed to be in months.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this—change was supposed to be for the better, not worse. I was losing more of me in ways that I couldn’t have imagined.

“God, please help me,” I exclaimed.

A voice inside of me said,
turn around and move.
I turned in time to see the barrel of a Glock 19 trained at me and coming my way quickly. My eyes got wide and my heart raced, and then I heard the dreadful sound.

Blam!

I jumped, trying to move, but a bullet quickly ripped through my shoulder. I dropped everything I had in my hands and fell to the floor. There were two masked gunmen coming my way, firing rapidly at me.

I grabbed my injured shoulder scurrying for safety. The shooters were relentless. I ran down the block hearing shots shattering back windows to cars and bullets whizzing by my ears.