I decided not to bring my boys with me. I felt like Dutch, and I had some deep shit that we needed to address, and having the boys with us probably wasn’t the best idea, so right now, they were home, and trust me, I didn’t have to worry about them lil niggas trying to be slick, leaving out of the house, doing shit that they knew they didn’t have any business doing. Legend would leave out of the house before Creed did, trust me. I know for a fact that I’d scared the living shit out of Creed when I slammed his ass down on his back outside of that precinct. He’s been on the straight and narrow ever since. Lil nigga be offering to help with so much shit around the house, too. Last weekend when he was with me, I was in my room, looking over a case, and he came in, asking me if I needed help with it. The shit had me laughing because he was desperate at this point. I wanted my kids torespect me though. I didn’t need them fearing me, and I felt like Creed was at a point right now where he feared me more than anything.
I was pulling up toSTK Miami.That was the spot that we agreed on going. Earlier, when I was getting ready to go, I was on the phone with Yaya, telling her my plans for the evening.STKwas another one of her favorite spots, so when she found out that I was going, she started saying that she wished that she was here, so that she could have gone with me. There I go, making promises to her ass, telling her that I would take her when she got back. That girl was pulling me in, having me spoil her, and put all her needs first, like how I used to be when we were happy in our marriage. I felt like shit with us was good right now because it was fun. It was the season of fun. I’m curious to know how shit was going to go for us next week when it was time for us to start therapy, talk about the shit that we didn’t like to talk about, and most importantly, the anniversary of Sarai’s death was coming up, and I needed to see how we were going to handle that together because last time, when the anniversary of her death came around, that was a tough patch for us to get through. I wanted the therapy to help us, not tear us apart.
The restaurant had valet, and when I pulled up, I saw a white Rolls Royce that was parked in valet, and I knew that that was Dutch. The valet driver opened the door for him, and Dutch stepped out, looking clean in his attire, just as he always did. Another valet driver came over to my car, opened the door, and I stepped out as well. I let him know that he could just leave my car parked up front, and I walked over to where Dutch was. He turned his head, seeing me, and he smiled proudly. I won’t lie, I missed him. Before I got these thoughts in my head about him, I used to hit him up every day. He raised me, so we had a close bond.
I couldn’t hide the smile on my face either, as I walked up to him, slapped hands with him, and we held onto each other like how a father and son would do.
“What’s up? I missed you, man. You look good,” Dutch stated, pulling away from me, and he reached his hand out, slapping me on my chest a couple of times.
The way I would clean up nice, making sure to always put that shit on, and was always well groomed, I learned that shit from him. As a kid, I remember him picking me up from school, and he would be the freshest nigga in the car pick up line. It didn’t matter if we were just going down the street to the grocery store, he was always going to have that shit on. I was the same way when it came to my boys. I told them to dress like a motha fucka was going to put a camera in your face every time that you stepped out, and they made sure to follow behind me when it came to that.
“Shit, what’s good? I missed you too” I let him know on some real shit. Like he would do each time that he was around me, he looked me up and down proudly. We slapped it up again, and we walked inside of the restaurant.
Dutch was the one to make the reservations, so the second we walked in, he let the hostess up front know his name, and she was quick with grabbing two menus, and she walked us to the back, where Dutch requested for us to sit.
It was busy in the restaurant tonight, but it wasn’t too bad. We had a nice spot in the back, where it wasn’t surrounded with too many people, so we could sit, eat, vibe, and just enjoy our night. Dutch sat on one side of the table, and I sat down on the other. The hostess let us know that our waiter would be headed to us shortly, we thanked her, and she walked away.
“I see something over there that you fucked,” Dutch stated. His eyes weren’t on me when he said that. He had them on whoever was behind me.
Looking up from the menu, I turned my head, so that I could see who was back there, and it was Gina sitting at a booth with two of her home girls. When I turned to look, her eyes were right on me. All I could do was shake my head, run my hand down my face, and say that God had one hell of a sense of humor because out of all the spots in Miami that we could have both chosen to eat, how the hell did we both manage to come here? Yaya hated that bitch, and she had every reason to because I fucked her, and Gina was on some petty shit a time or two when Yaya ran into her in public.
“Just as long as she stays her ass over there, we’re good” I replied, and Dutch laughed while the waiter came over.
It was an older white guy, and he quickly came over to introduce himself. He told us a little about the menu, letting us know the specials that they had going on tonight, and things like that. Dutch was the reason I sipped old fashion because as a kid, it’s what he would request when he took me out to nice restaurants. That’s the drink that we both ordered, along with getting a few appetizers for the table. The waiter put it in for us and left.
“What you been up to?” he asked me, now that it was just the two of us at the table.
“Shit, working. You know me. You know I stay on the grind. Taking care of my kids,” I let him know because that’s really the only thing that I had been up to these days. I didn’t go into detail with the shit that I was doing with Yaya. Her crazy ass thought that everybody was going to call her stupid for coming back, so I left that part of my life out of the conversation.
“I hate that when that shit happened with Creed, me and you weren’t in a good spot. About your kids, you already know how I get down. Swear to God, I was ready to air everybody out that had something bad to say about him. How that shit going though? I know they said that it was never a case because itwasn’t shit to charge him with,” he brought it up, and I wasn’t shocked because I knew that this was something that the two of us would talk about this evening.
“It’s still an ongoing thing, as far as the controversy that’s being surrounded by it. You got motha fuckas out there that really believes that my son did something to that girl, even after she got on social media and defended him, telling the world that nothing happened. It’s no kind of evidence that was put out that he did something to harm her, but people going to believe what they want to. Creed good though. He’s shaking back from this shit. The only thing that’s really bothering him and keeping him up at night is his future. He thinks that the colleges and shit going to hang this over his head. Baseball season is over with right now, so I told him that next school year when it starts back up, that he gotta really lock in, and be on it, so that they could look at him again for is talent, and not for the shit that’s been trending with him recently online,” I shared with Dutch, and he nodded his head, feeling where I was coming from.
“What about the white girl pops? The attorney. You haven’t pulled up on him and handled your business with him yet?” he asked me, and I sighed.
“I know my levels of maturity, and to be real, I know that I’m not at a point in my life where I can pull up on her pops and not want to kill him. That’s the only reason why I haven’t pull up on him yet and put hands on him. He called the cops on my son. He planted lies to them, had them arrest my son, and I know for a fact if I wasn’t who I was, Creed would probably still be in jail, waiting to have his time before a judge. I can’t go and pull up on that man, Dutch. I’m liable to kill him, and I have too much to lose. Life going to fuck him, so it’s cool,” I let him know, and at the same time, our waiter came back with our drinks.
We knew what we wanted to order to eat, so we put that order in with him as well, since he was standing here.
“What you got going on?” I asked, changing the subject, wanting to see what he was up to these days. After I asked that, he took a sip of his drink, put the glass down on the table, and he stared at me. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was getting ready to lay some heavy shit on me.
“I’m about to retire from this drug shit,” he let me know, shocking me with his words.
I expected a lot of things to come out of his mouth, but never this. Dutch was truly a person that I thought would die still heavy into the drug game. It was all he knew. He ate, slept, and breathed that shit. I knew how much it meant to him. I knew the hard work that him, and my pops put into getting that shit off the ground. Dutch would always talk about this business being something that he would never just let it go, and that he would pass it down. He often confided in me about his son Kross, and how he didn’t trust him enough to pass it down to him, so that would never be an option.
I know for a fact that if I’d gone in the same direction as my pops, and Dutch, that that business would have been passed down to me, but I was smart enough to know that that was just something that I didn’t want any parts in.
“A nigga go a few weeks without talking to you, and now all of a sudden you ready to walk away from the game. How you get here?” I asked, wanting to know what led him to make that decision.
“Shit, it’s plenty reasons. Reasons that I’ve known about for years, but I’m just getting serious about moving my feet. I’m in my 60’s. I’m supposed to be somewhere, laid out on a yacht, enjoying the fruits of my labor, not still running around, micromanaging grown ass men. I think about all the years that I put into this shit, the son that I have, and I don’t even trust that nigga enough to pass the throne over to him. That lil nigga too immature, reckless, and the boys in the game don’t respecthis ass. On top of that, I’m seeing too many niggas get hit with RICO cases. That shit with that rapper Reggie got me shook. They trying to throw the whole fuckin book at him, and his crew. I went all this time, dodging the feds, never having to get hit with any prison time, and I just been in my head lately, wondering when my luck going to run out, you know? Plus, it’s not like I’m doing this shit anymore for the money. When, me, and Knox jumped into this shit as kids, we were hungry for it. We needed the money back then. Money hasn’t been the motivation for me for years. I got more than enough money to live multiple lifetimes. Every deal I’m making these days, every drop with the plug, feels like it’s a risk that I’m taking, rather a reward. Now that I’m feeling like this, Ima go ahead, and bring this shit to an end,” he shared with me, bringing up all the worries and shit that I’ve had for him for years.
In life, one of my biggest fears had been that Dutch would finally go down for his role that he played in the drug game, and even though they say that I perform miracles in the courtroom, I was afraid that even I wouldn’t be able to help him out of this jam.
“I feel you. How you going to go about that though? You got a bunch of niggas that’s working for you. They not going to take that well. You taking food out of their mouths. They not going to like that,” I said some real shit to him.
Our waitress came over with the appetizers, and he sat them down in the middle of the table. Dutch waited for him to walk away before he answered my question.
“I don’t plan to just drop this shit on them out of the blue. Whenever I know that I’m ready to move my feet, I’m going to give them niggas about a month’s notice. Shit, if they real trappers, and hustlers like me, and Knox were, they will find a way to build their own organization from the ground up, and run it on their own,” he said. I nodded my head to that.
