Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Walking away from Glacier made every bone in my body hurt. Doubled over in pain, I exited through the emergency room doors. I leaned over the first patch of grass in sight, releasing every piece of food I’d consumed in the last twenty-four hours. Leaving my whole life behind, the act of it all was repulsive.
“Urgh!”
My body began to purge, trying to rid itself of the things love had given to me before life took it away tragically.
“Fuck.”
I wiped the remains with the back of my sleeve.
“Fuck, Mommas.”
Drunkenly, I stumbled in the opposite direction, toward the car that I was using to conceal my identity during my hunt. Beside it, I lowered my body to the concrete slab because I could go no further. Head in my hands, I tucked my emotions deep down, as far as they’d go, because where I was headed, they couldn’t come.
Get ya shit together, nigga.
Walking away from Glacier was the most complicated task I’d ever have to complete. But it was the most necessary. If I wanted Mommas to live a good, fulfilling life, then there was no other way. She deserved peace. I didn’t know peace. She was the only bit of it I’d truly experienced. For that, I owed her the world. With a stacked account and a new stream of income, I hoped I’d given it to her.
I hopped in the whip and took a brief second to get myself together. The ignition stalled before starting on the second attempt. Without haste, I rolled a blunt using as much of the weed inside of my tin as would fit. The first puff after lighting it was followed by so many more. And finally, when my head was on straight, I exited the lot.
I ignored every traffic law Berkeley had ever put into effect, headed straight toward The Valley where the police presence was heavy and jail was inevitable. I floored the engine as I entered the expressway and didn’t let up on the gas until I reached my exit.
Blue lights flashed behind me almost instantly. Deciding to take them on a wild ride, I continued deeper into The Valley where the street lights hardly came on and addicts crawled the streets at odd hours.
“Pull over, now!”
The loudspeakers drowned out the maxed volume of the stereo.
“This is the Berkeley City Police Department. You are being pulled over. Decelerate now.”
I obeyed the orders I’d been given, but not until I was ready and when my blunt had ended. On a well-lit gas station lot with a full audience, for my safety, I exited the car with my hands in the air.
“Get out now!”
“On the ground! Now.”
I lowered my body to the ground and placed both hands behind my back so the officers wouldn’t have to. The less time we wasted out here, the more time I’d have to master my plan of action.
“Hands behind your back, now!”
I remained silent. Jail was my destination and that was exactly where I wanted to be. The FN on the front seat and the extra magazines in the back would secure my spot. Anxiously, I awaited my transport. There were no words to be spoken. I needed the policeman to do their jobs and pay their debt to society.
“Any weapons?” one of the officers asked, before patting me down.
Silence.
“Any fucking weapons?”
Silence.
“I’m going to ask you once more!”
“You can ask me a hundred times, my nigga. I ain’t telling you shit. Do your job and do that shit quick. I’ve got somewhere to be.”
Anything that was said after I’d demanded a speedy transport was a blur.
The blinding blue lights turned into white ones that lit the ballroom that was covered from the ceiling to the floor with flowers that had cost me over ten thousand dollars.
It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter one bit. Because the smile on Glacier’s face as she cried tears of joy, obliterating the distance between us, was well worth it. Friends and family had gathered to celebrate our love. And just as Lawe had predicted, tears slipped from my eyes.
“Here, bro,” Trent said, attempting to hand me a napkin.
“Here,” Lawe interfered, snatching the tissue from Trent and stuffing it in his pocket so that his was my only option.
Trent had been appointed as the official best man, yet Lawe still hadn’t gotten the memo. Trent's position was beside me. Somehow, Lawe had made his way between us. He was sandwiched, nearly shoulder to shoulder, but didn’t give a fuck.
“Lawe.”
“Take the napkin before I give you something else to cry ’bout.”
With a shake of the head, I accepted the tissue he was giving me.
“Now, turn around and pay attention. We can talk about this later.”
“Talk about wha ? —”
“Later,” he hissed.
I focused on Glacier, putting my thoughts of Lawe and his delusion aside.
Come ’er, Mommas. I’m here .
“Face the wall.”
Stripped down without as much as a pair of briefs to cover my ass, I granted every request of the intake officer.
“Squat for me.”
Violated
Verb
The failure to comply with rules, regularities, or agreements.
Synonyms include: disregard, infract, transgress, defy, contravene
Every code of ethics was broken in the intake room. Nevertheless, I wasn’t opposed to the process with the knowledge of its outcome.
“Alright. Put these back on and stand out there for me.”
Still complying without resistance, I followed every instruction thrown my way, until finally, I was shoved in a cell with twelve other niggas. They parted like the Red Sea, making room for me to travel freely. Berkeley was home. It didn’t matter which of its crevices I fell into, my last name rang bells. Loyalty, hustle, and heart had put our name on the map and kept that motherfucker there.
I combed through the faces of each one of them in search of one in particular, hoping my opportunity had come much earlier than anticipated. To my dismay, Nelson wasn’t among any of the men sharing a sweaty ass cell with me.
I pushed my back up against the right corner at the very back of the unit and began to mentally prepare for whatever was to come. The uncertainty made me anxious, but details surrounding the circumstances supplied me with the patience of a teacher in a toddler’s room at the daycare center.
Whether it took four months or four years to finish the mission, I wouldn’t drop a sweat. I had never stepped foot inside a jail. If I had any other options, I would die with that still having been the case. However, Nelson had a blown tire and a bullet in his shoulder. He didn’t get very far before he was apprehended and taken into custody after attempting vehicular homicide.
After patching him up, they sent his ass straight to jail. The likelihood of him being released was slim. He was out on bond for the last incident and his record was far from clean. They weren’t letting his ignorant ass go and I wasn’t paying a fucking soul to handle my shit for me. I had to get my hands dirty. This shit was very personal.
He’d crossed the line two too many times. There wouldn’t be another opportunity for him to do so. It was now my life’s mission to make sure of it.
“Domino!” an officer called as he neared the cell.
“Counsel.”
I’d been in police custody for three hours. I was almost certain my brothers had gotten a whiff of my pending charges before my body was off the ground of the gas station. Hearing that a lawyer was requesting my presence was not surprising, neither was it relieving.
Bodies scattered, leading me toward the exit path. When I made it to the bars, cuffs were waiting for me. I stuck my hands through and observed the officer confine my hands.
“Step back.”
Seconds later, the cell’s door opened slightly. I maneuvered, turning my body sideways in order to squeeze through the small opening. Freed from the corner of the common cell, I felt no better. Shit, I felt nothing. I was numbing a bit more with every passing minute.
The hallway we proceeded down after a few corners stretched for an eternity. Cold, concrete floors that were a medium shade of gray carved the path for us. Everything I’d ever imagined prison resembled; in actuality, it was worse.
Luckily, this place wasn’t my final destination. It was only temporary. Where I was headed next was still in question, but I knew that county was only a holding facility. Within seventy-two hours, if you weren’t bailed out, you were headed elsewhere.
“In here,” the officer instructed, pointing inside of the room we were approaching.
I stepped inside to find a man I’d only seen a time or two but never interacted with personally. Money was exchanged for services years and years ago while Mercer was fighting his legal battle. Communication wasn’t my goal in the meetups. I was simply paying the retainer to keep his ass in court for my brother.
“Uncuff him,” he demanded immediately.
I lifted my wrists and waited for his orders to be followed. The correctional officer jingled the large metal circle of keys until he found the one he was searching for. My wrists were freed shortly after he inserted the key.
“Privacy,” was his next request.
Obliging, the officer stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
The small council room that was furnished with only a table and two chairs was the most basic shit I’d ever seen. It was cold and bare, resembling the interrogation rooms in crime documentaries.
“Hi. Mr. Domino, I am Reginald Valdez, your lawyer. I will be representing you from this moment on.”
“Tell my brothers I’m good.”
The average-height, pot-belly attorney reddened as his head tilted in confusion. There was crust in his eyes, pairing with the wrinkles of his suit to confirm he was tucked away in bed when he’d gotten the call. As his mouth began to move, I counted the sleep lines on his face. There were six of them that hadn’t dissolved yet.
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t need representation.”
“Do you understand you’re facing federal charges, Mr. Domino?”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“You need counsel. Your brothers are waiting to make bail once it’s posted. I’m only here because they insisted I let you know that it won’t be much longer before you see sunlight,” he explained with a smile on his face.
I swiped it rather swiftly with my next few words.
“Tell Malachi, because I know that’s who sent you, that I’m right where I want to be. Tell him that I’m good and not to waste his chips. If he bails me out, then I’m coming right back in this bitch. Tell him I’m sitting down for a while and to hold shit down.”
“Mr. Domin?—”
“Don’t waste any more of your time here, partna. Go home and get yo’ ass back in bed. Tell them niggas I’m straight. I’ll call them when I’m ready. I’ll let them know when to come get me.”
“I don’t think you understand. You’re facin?—”
“I don’t think you understand, my nigga. But I’m not in the business of convincing nobody of shit. Tell my people what I said. Tell ’em I’m good. Tell ’em I’ll call ’em when I’m ready. Any more of your time spent here is a waste and on you. As for me, I’m going to lay my Black ass down.”
“Is there anything you need?”
“Yeah,” I responded, reaching for his tie and pulling him closer so that only his ears could hear me. Though we were alone, I knew that the likelihood of total privacy was slim. His bald head released beads of sweat. Panic was written all over his posture as he nodded in compliance before any words even came from my mouth.
“To be put in a cell with Nelson Smith.”
I released him, allowing his feet to touch the ground without elevation again.
“I can’t… I can’t do that, Mr. Domino.”
“Then, goodbye, Mr. Valdez.”
I headed toward the door. As my fist hit the center, Mr. Valdez called out to me.
“Mr. Domino.”
“Yeah?” I never budged, still waiting to be cuffed so I could return to my cell.
“Be careful. Prison is a wild place.”
“I’ma wild nigga. Maybe this is where I’ve belonged all along, huh?”
The cuffs were slapped on my wrist as soon as the correctional officer realized I was waiting. The guy who had ushered me into the room was not the same one who escorted me back to the cell. In fact, our route was even different.
“This not the way to th?—”
“I know,” he quickly responded. “That’s not where we’re headed.”
“Then where the fuck are we headed?”
“To a different wing. Consider this the upgrade.”
“I’m not trying to be upgraded, my nigga. Put me back in the holding cell.”
The more inmates I encountered, the better my chances of bumping into Nelson were. Wherever the fuck we were headed, I wasn’t interested.
“I’ve been given orders. I’m following them,” he explained with a shrug.
We ended up in a much shorter hallway that was lined with smaller, cleaner cells that were nearly filled to the brim. It wasn’t until we reached the end that I discovered the cell I’d be occupying.
“This you right here.” He pointed inside.
I stepped through and placed my hands through the horizontal space so that he could remove the cuffs. I massaged my wrists as I analyzed my new surroundings. Every nigga, other than me, had another individual inside the cell with them.
Fucking Malachi , I concluded with a shake of my head.
“Thirty seconds,” the officer whispered, sliding a black flip phone into the bar and walking away immediately after.
The phone began vibrating the second it touched my palm. I opened it, curious to find out who was on the other end. Chem’s voice registered as soon as he spoke. The oxygen in the room faded as the disappointment in his voice translated.
“What are you doing, brother?”
“Finishing business.”
“Why must you do it this way, Makai?”
“What other way would you have me do it? Hmm? If it were you, where would you be standing right now?”
“In a cell.”
“Exactly. Don’t lecture me, Chem.”
“I’m not. Just trying to see where your head is.”
“The same place yours would be.”
Had the roles been reversed, it would be me on the phone as he explained the same.
“Understood.”
Chem was no fool and neither was he a hoe. We might’ve had different fathers but our principles were aligned. Our father’s principles were aligned. Unfinished business was unacceptable and the catalyst for so many avoidable issues. I couldn’t continue life until this situation was handled.
Looking over my shoulder or sending another party to handle light work was not an option. This nigga wasn’t invincible, he was simply good at hiding. But now that we were on the same block, it was only a matter of time. And until that time came, I’d be around.
“I’ve got this.”
“I know,” he sighed.
“Don’t worry about me. Tell them niggas not to worry about me, either.”
“How can I help?”
The strain in his voice was evidence that he was frustrated with the situation as much as I’d imagine Malachi, Milo, and Mercer were. But they had nothing to worry about. I’d be home as soon as my deed was done. As soon as I knew that the world was free of threats to Glacier’s livelihood.
“Put that nigga in the cell with me.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Bet.”
“Handle your business and come home, nigga.”
“That’s the plan.”
I ended the call and placed the phone on the horizontal opening that housed a small ledge. Calmly, I sat on the bottom mattress of the bunk and pressed my back against the neatly tucked sheet.
I placed my hands behind my head and closed my eyes. I could rest now, knowing that a few walls were the only thing separating me from Nelson. With time, not even those would come between us.
I’m here, Mommas.
Glacier was the last thought on my mind before exhaustion set in.