As I was speeding to get there, so many scenarios was flooding through my mind. The main thing was trying to find out who could have done this shit. I wasn’t even about to sit here, and try to be a delusional parent, and pretend that my son was an angel, and that he didn’t go around giving people problems because I knew he was far from a saint. I haven’t spoken to Kross in a couple of weeks, and in that time, I didn’t know the kind of shit that he might have been up to, who he might have crossed, and the beef that he was now in the middle of.
I wanted him to fight because I couldn’t lose the only child that I had. We had our shit, and at times, it felt like he couldn’t get it right, and because he couldn’t get it right, it often affected our relationship, but I prayed that he kicked it, woke up, so that he could tell me who the fuck had done this shit, and I could handle it.
I pulled up to the hospital, and luckily, I was able to get a spot right in the front. I moved fast, walking through the parking lot, and once I made it inside, I went right to the admitting clerk, telling her who I was here to see. She really couldn’t give me many details right now. All she could tell me was that Kross was in the trauma unit, so that’s the floor that I went on, and over there, I couldn’t go straight back to see him. I was told that he was being treated, so in there, I had to sit in the lobby. The whole time that I was sitting in here, it felt like I was about to lose my fuckin mind, not knowing what was going on with my son.
Right when I felt like I was about to nut up, that’s when a nurse walked over to me.
“He’s good?” I asked her.
“Kross is stable right now. You’re free to go to the back and see him. He’s on a ventilator right now, and that’s pretty much the one thing that’s helping to keep him alive. He’s in room 323,” she told me. I recognized her voice, so I knew that she was the same nurse that I’d spoken with over the phone.
Her words pierced me. That shit hurt me to hear. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but I still followed her into the room where Kross was.
We walked the long hallway in silence, and within a matter of seconds, we were standing in front of his door, and she pushed the door, allowing us access. When I walked in, and I saw my son’s condition, my chest tightened. Hearing all these machines going off, knowing that this was the only thing that was keeping him up pained me.
I walked over to his bedside, and I touched his hand. When I picked his hand up, it felt as if I was holding onto dead weight. He didn’t squeeze my hand, flutter his eyes or anything to acknowledge that I was in the room with him.
“Can you give us a minute?” I asked the nurse. With sympathy in her eyes, she nodded her head, letting me know that she would give us a minute.
She walked out of the room, leaving just the two of us. The second she was gone, that’s when a tear fell from my eye. I squeezed my son’s hand tighter, and I leaned in because I wanted him to hear me.
“Wake the fuck up, son. You can’t do this shit to me. You’re the only thing left that I have in this cold ass world. I know that our shit hasn’t always been right over the years, and we don’t always get along, but don’t do this shit to me, man. It ain’t much in life that’ll hurt me, but if you leave me, I swear this will bring me to my fuckin knees, son. You gotta shake this, man,” I spoke to him, my voice shaking the entire time.
I didn’t get any kind of response from him, whether it was in his breathing, blinking of his eyes, or him squeezing my hand, so to be honest, I really didn’t know if he heard me, or not.
I ended up taking a seat in the chair that was near his bed, and I got comfortable because I knew that this was going to be a long night. I didn’t have any plans on leaving out of this hospital because I wasn’t sure who was responsible for this, and I feared that if I left, whoever did this would find where my son was, and try to finish the job.
I’ve been in the streets for years, so I’ve seen a lot of shit, heard a lot of shit, and done a lot of shit, so I knew that just because he was laid up in this hospital, it didn’t mean that he was safe. When a motha fucka wanted you dead, they would stop at nothing to finish the job. I didn’t know who Kross had wronged, so if they really wanted to get to him, they could.
Every time a man puts himself in a position to walk away from the game, and leave the past in the past, something always comes pulling, keeping him in it. This was the pull that wasgoing to get me linked into some heavy shit, but for my son, I would do whatever.
Chapter Eighteen
SEVYN ‘LAW’ CRAWFORD
It was after five in the morning, and I was seated quietly in the back seat of a car, waiting for someone to come on out, and make their way out to the driver’s seat. I’ve been sitting back here for well over thirty minutes. The car was off, meaning that were wasn’t any AC running, but because of the mission that I was on, the anger that I felt, and the need that I had to approach this person, I swear I wasn’t even hot. There was a black hoodie over my head that I wore with black sweats. I was on black air force one energy early this morning, so that’s the shoes that I was rocking.
Today was the anniversary of my daughter’s death, and instead of being home right now, where I knew Yaya was going to need me because Sarai’s death anniversary, and her birthday were always two of the hardest days out of the year for Yaya. I planned to be there for her today though. I already had my shoulder ready for her to cry on, and my lap ready for her to sit because I knew she was going to need both. The second I handled this shit right here, I was going to head back to the crib, so that I could be there for her.
Five more minutes rolled around, and I saw him coming out of the early morning cycling class that he took. I did myhomework on him, and found out a little bit about his schedule, so here I was. I wanted to bring this shit to his doorstep, or his office, but I didn’t need anyone getting in the way, so I decided to make this personal, so here I was, camped out in the backseat of his car, and I smiled, while rubbing my hands together, seeing that he was coming my way.
It didn’t take but a few more seconds for him to make it to the car, unluck the doors, and he tossed the gym bag that he had been holding in the passenger seat, and then he sat down, quickly locking the doors behind him. Because it was so early in the morning, the sun still hadn’t risen, so it was dark out. The gym parking lot didn’t have much lighting, and that was fine with me because had it been any lighter, he might have saw that he had a visitor in the back seat.
“How you doing this morning, Mr. Sterling?” I asked, my voice coming out calm, smooth, and free of any anger, even though inside, I felt the opposite of all three of these things.
When he heard my voice, he quickly tried to unlock the door, and step out, just like I knew he would, so I picked up the gun that I had in my lap, put it on the side of his head, and I cocked it back, letting his ass know that I was serious, and that I would pull this motha fucka if I had to.
“Sevyn? Really? Man, what the fuck are you doing?” you could hear his voice trembling as he asked me this.
“Ay, stop the theatrics. You know the kind of person that I am, so you had to know that I had plans to pull up on you. You don’t like me because you think I’m a thug, so I’m about to act like a thug right now. You put money on my head? If you don’t know what that question means, let me articulate myself a little better, and ask it in a way that you can properly understand me. Did you pay someone to try and run me off the road, and kill me?” I spat, pressing the gun deeper into the side of his head, anxious to hear what his response was going to be.
“Sevyn, me, and you don’t get along, but really? What kind of monster do you take me for? Do you really think that I would risk my name, my license, or my freedom to pay someone all because I want you killed? Come on. You sound foolish,” was his response, voice still shaking, indications of not only was he scared, but his ass was lying too.
“Ahhh, Eddy. I knew you would lie, and that’s why I came with proof. One second bud,” I mocked, sarcasm dripping from each word. I scooted over in the seat, sitting in the middle, so that I could have the perfect angle of him. I removed the gun from his head, but I kept it in my lap, just in case he moved an inch, and I had to use it.
There was a folder that was sitting right next to me, that I brought with me. I quickly took the contents out, and I reached over, placing everything in his lap, for him to glance over.
Ever since that shit happened between Yaya and I last weekend, I jumped on it quickly, hiring a private investigator because I wanted to get down to the meat of this shit. The dude that tried to run me off the side of the road, I learned that night from the cops that his name was Mark Henley. He was in his late thirties, and he had a military background. With the private investigator that I hired, he was able to give me all the dirt on Mark, telling me about his dishonorable discharge from the military, and after that, his life just kind of went left afterwards. He did have petty shit on his record, like some aggravated assault charges, drug possession, and shit like that. When I was going to hire someone for a job to help me out, I was going to make sure that I hired the best of the best, so the person that got me the information was skilled in tech, being able to get me Mark’s phone records, bank transaction receipts, and even text messages. Even though before Mark took his last breath, he told me that it was Edward Sterling that hired him for the job, I wanted to be sure, and once the private investigator got back tome that it was, and he came at me with all these heavy facts, I’m not going to lie, I was shocked.
