16. Love
LOVE
“I told y’all, you got the wrong nigga.”
For two hours, I repeated the same thing to these muthafuckas, and frankly, I was tired of it. I was basically wasting my time because they weren’t listening to anything I was saying.
“Mr. Hamilton, things will go a lot smoother if you’d tell me what happened. How did Mr. Frescani end up in a coma fighting for his life?”
I sat back, peering at the new detective. This ain’t the same one that questioned me twenty minutes ago. They thought rotating muthafuckas was gone get me to speak, tryna play on a nigga’s intelligence and all that, but I wasn’t having none of it.
“What happened was, y’all pulled a nigga from his date in a middle of a crowded restaurant for no reason,” I spat, sitting up higher in my chair to look him in the eyes. “I told you, it wasn’t me.”
I knew it was my brother who did this. Even though I ain’t tryna go down for something I didn’t do, it’s no way I would snitch on my own blood. They gotta figure that part out themselves.
“Well, if it wasn’t you, you know who it was?” he fished for information, taking a sip from his cup.
“We’re not just spinning wheels here, Mr. Hamilton. The sketch that the witness drew up clearly shows a man who looks exactly like you. Is that just a coincidence?” he questioned sarcastically. These muthafuckas would do anything to back me into a corner.
“Yeah, it is. Because I don’t know nothing, and I ain’t saying nothing else. I need my lawyer and my phone call.” I licked my lips and ran my hand over my face.
Out the corner of my eyes, I saw him get up in a huff, stomping towards the door. I knew they were grasping at straws when it came to charging me. They ain’t take my fingerprints or nothing to identify me yet, that’s how I knew they were on bullshit.
This wild!
I was just on the dance floor hugged up with Baby when they slammed me to the ground.
I was so focused on her, I ain’t even see them slide up on us.
I was usually aware of my surroundings, but not when it comes to her ass.
When I got out of here, I’mma make her mine, no matter what, my job be damned.
The detective came back ten minutes later, taking me into the hallway to use the phone. The first person I called was mama. I knew she was tripping out by now. I was supposed to pick her up from my auntie’s house and she probably worrying herself sick.
“Hello.”
“Mama, it’s Love,” I told her, leaning my arm on the wall.
My eyes scanned around me to make sure nobody was listening in on my conversation. I knew sometimes they’d tap in, so I’ll try to make it quick. “I’m in jail, ma. They said I robbed somebody, but I ain’t do it, aight? I’m getting out of here soon, but you gotta stay with auntie.”
“Well, if you didn’t do it, then,” she paused. I heard her inhale deeply. “It was Valentine, wasn’t it?”
I looked around.
"This is all your fault, you know. He wouldn’t have been tryna go and get it somewhere else. If you’d given him the money when he asked you,” she pointed out in frustration, and that made me hot. This nigga robbed a store, but I still get blamed for his fuckups.
“Ma, he made his own decisions. I’m the one locked up right now,” I spat, my nose flaring in anger.
“Three minutes!” A guard yelled from a distance, and I didn’t have long.
“Ma, I need to get off the phone.” I was about to hang up when her voice stopped me.
“Love. Wait,” she spoke in a rushed tone. “M-maybe. Maybe you can take the charge for him.”
The fuck! Why would I do that? I wasn’t about to tell on him, but I’d be damned if I took a charge that wasn’t mine. This ain’t no petty crime we talking about. It’s robbery and murder. Niggas get locked up for life behind this.
“I know you ain’t just say that to me, mama.” I was hurt she suggested it.
“Just listen, baby,” she blurted out. “He won’t last in a place like that. You always been stronger than him, Love.”
I clenched my jaw, clutching the phone tightly in my hand. “So? What about me? I’m your son too, but you prefer I spend life in here than him, huh?”
I would say I'm surprised by what she’s asking me, but I’m not. I know if it came down to me and him, she’d always pick him. “That’s not gone happen mama. I’m sorry. I’m getting out of here and, when I do, me and you gotta talk.” I hung up before she could reply.
The next call I made was to my lawyer. He told me to sit tight util he came and bailed me out, and not to say anything to anybody.
A guard came to take me back to the interrogation room.
And as I was sitting there, my mind kept going back to mama.
A part of me wanted to blame her ass being sick for the reason she said that, but I knew better.
She wanted me to do this to save my brother.
And I truly believed that if the shoe was on the other foot, she’d let me rot in jail.
The detective walked in and took a seat across from me. “So, you ready to talk?”
I exhaled deeply. “I ain’t got nothing to say until my lawyer gets here.”
I spread my legs, leaned back in the chair, and crossed my arms. He knew I was done with his bitch ass when he got up and walked out the room.
I sighed in relief once I was alone. Here I am, mixed up in Valentine bullshit once again. He ain’t never been man enough to take responsibility for shit he did, but I be damned if I took this rap for him.