Chapter 9
A Little Time, But Not Too Much Time Later . . .
I stepped out of my truck and walked up the cracked pathway to the rundown home of my best friend, Terrell Gardener, aka Trouble.
I had put off seeing him because it was hella triggering for me to see him this way. I didn’t want to believe a nigga who didn’t even like smoking weed could succumb to something of this magnitude. The nigga wouldn’t be caught dead, living in this area or a house like this.
But as I approached the dilapidated home, I knew what Meeko told me was true.
This is your mans, Zi. You gotta offer him help, even if he doesn’t accept it, I thought, stepping up on the porch and knocking hard.
“Who the fuck is it?” a woman screamed from the other side of the door. I didn’t answer her as I knocked hard again.
This time, the door flung open, and a dark-skinned woman appeared, hair and eyes wild, staring at me.
“Who are you?”
“Is Terrell here?” I asked, ignoring her question.
“Who?” she asked, looking confused.
“Trouble.”
She looked me up and down, then yelled behind her.
“Trouble! You got company!” She opened the door wider, and I stepped in, looking around the place.
My heart broke when I saw the shit. There were old containers of Chinese food, dirty walls, torn furniture, and filthy carpet.
The house reeked of mildew and old garbage, and I could feel myself becoming angered at what I saw.
Trouble came walking from the back of the house, and I closed my eyes tightly to stop myself from crying like a bitch. This couldn’t be the Terrell I grew up with. The zombie-like man I saw wasn’t the man I left fifteen years ago.
“I must be higher than a motherfucka right now. I know you ain’t my nigga, Zion.”
I lifted my head, and I could feel the sting behind my eyes as we stared at each other. I pinched my nose a few times to undo the sadness filling my chest.
“Troub. Wh-what the fuck happened, bro?” I asked.
“Zion?” he questioned, seemingly coming out of whatever had him dazed.
“It’s me, man,” I confirmed.
He ran his hand over his head a few times, then down his face. He shook his head, then ran into the dirty-ass kitchen, throwing up in the sink.
I can’t believe this shit.
He finally stood upright and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “It can’t be you.”
“It is me, Troub.”
“You here to kill me?”
I frowned. “I’m here to help you.”
“Meek and Kay must’ve told you where I was. Them niggas never could keep a secret.” He chuckled lightly, then turned to me.
“Why would they? This ain’t something they should keep away from me. Even though they kept it away anyway.”
He moved back into the living room, removing papers from the busted recliner. “When did you get out?”
“A few months ago.”
“You can sit here—”
“I’m good. What happened, T?”
He looked off, then lowered his head. “You want sumn to drink? I think I got a beer in there for you.”
“I’m good. Answer my question. What happened?”
He looked at me and rubbed his arms as if something was crawling on him. Just seeing the act made me feel even more fucked up. My mans was jonesing bad.
“Shit got heavy when you went away, man. I feel like it’s my fault you had to do that time.”
“It wasn’t your fault, T—”
“It was! Th-they cornered me, man. They put my back against the wall, and I felt disloyal as fuck for it. I’m sorry, Zi. I’m a fucking Judas,” he said, leaning against the wall, then sliding down to the floor. “I betrayed you.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, shaking my head in confusion. I wanted to believe he wasn’t saying what I thought he was saying. I didn't want this shit to be real right now.
“What are you saying, Trouble? Don’t talk in circles to me, bro.”
He looked up at me with tears in his eyes.
“I told the cops it was your gun. The night they took you, they cornered me and told me if I didn’t tell them the truth, they would take me away from my mama and my sister.
I thought I tossed it discreetly, but they saw me, and they came to pick me up the next day.
I couldn’t leave my mama to struggle, bro.
I-I couldn’t risk her losing her house and my sister to the system. I was all they had.”
“What about now, though, nigga? What the fuck are you doing to benefit them in your current state? You sacrificed my life to become this?” I tried not to let this get to me, but for a person I called my brother, and I would have given the shirt off my back, to betray me felt like a knife in my chest.
“You didn’t have nobody, bro!”
“I had Dinny! I had plans, dreams, fucking people who looked up to me and needed me! Don’t play that card with me, Terrell. Your fucking moms and sister would have been taken care of, regardless of your fate!
“We were a brotherhood. I would have done anything for you, and you rat me out because you were being a pussy!”
“You would have still done time, Zi. That man pressed charges—”
“Not fifteen fucking years, nigga! I would have done five easily and been out, enjoying the rest of my twenties!”
“Is y’all done with all this damn sentimental shit?”
My head whipped over to the dope fiend broad that I forgot was even in there with us.
“Bitch, spell sentimental!” I sneered. “Get the fuck out of here!” I roared. She scurried off and out of the house as my eyes went back to Trouble. I had to rein in my emotions because what was done was done. I couldn’t take back the fifteen years I lost, but it could have been avoided.
“I’m sorry for that shit, man. I couldn’t deal with what I’d done, so I started dealing with it in other ways.
You’ve always had a good heart, bro, and it fucked me up bad when you went away.
I can’t change what I did, but I want you to know how sorry I am for it, and if I could do shit over, I would take that charge. ”
“Get up, man,” I told him, extending my hand to him.
He looked at it for a second, then took my hand.
I pulled him up and pulled him into my arms. “You owe me, nigga.” I stepped back and placed my hand on the back of his neck.
“I’m taking your ass to rehab, and you gon’ get the fuck clean—not only for yourself, but for everybody that fucking loves you and for your future nieces and nephews.
You owe that shit to me, T. I know the old you is somewhere in there.
Tap the fuck back in, and do this shit for Lil’ Saint, nigga. ”
I could see the smirk drawing up on his face as tears slid down his cheeks.
I had to make a joke of it because I was hurt, but I also still loved him.
Another motherfucka would have killed him.
They would have thought he was a waste of space and do him dirty.
But we were better than that. Would I ever trust him again?
Probably not, but I wouldn’t give up on him.
At the end of the day, we made a promise to one another when we were young, and I was someone who kept my promises.
“I-I got you.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
“Na-now?”
“Right now, Stuttering Stanley.”
He scratched his arms as I guided him out of the house.
“Wait! Where are you going, Trouble? I need my shit,” Dopefiend Daisy said, standing from her seated position on the porch.
“I-I’m off this shit, Shamari. I gotta get clean.”
She laughed. “Nigga, please. Ya ass’ll be back. We always come back.”
My lip turned up at her ass. “I guarantee he won’t. You need to hop yo’ ass in this car, too. Save yourself, lil’ mama.”
“Tuh. Ain’t no saving me. Ain’t no saving his ass either, Superman. He’ll be back.”
I shook my head at her and continued my stride. It was crazy that I knew her ass spoke some truth, but I had faith and hope that Terrell wouldn’t let this shit be his ending. It was time to look toward a new and better beginning.
The jet landed in the Maldives around noon. We had left the previous night, only stopping once to refuel, then we were back up in the air, heading to a place I’d only seen in magazines or commercials.
The first year I was locked down, I started strategizing and planning for the life I wanted the moment they let a nigga free. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about getting back everything I lost.
I knew I fucked up, and hearing Trouble’s confession only proved that I would never fail again.
It’d been two weeks since I took him to rehab.
I made sure I found him one of the best, one that wouldn’t let him back on the streets until they felt he was ready.
The place had an activity room, a basketball court, a football field, a spa, a gym, and therapy.
He was allowed one hour outside the gated compound and two phone calls a week.
He’d called me the first week, crying and saying he couldn’t do it, but with the encouragement of Killa, Meeko, and me, he agreed to keep going.
The turn of events that occurred since the moment those bars slammed behind me was a whirlwind.
The time I lost, the love I left behind, and not knowing my fate had me down badly that first year.
Seeing Dinny’s face every time she came to see me broke me each time I had to see her walk away.
The fact that Terrell contributed to me being away for so long hurt me badly, but I knew I could shake back from my life being taken away, half my life being locked away.
As I sat next to Jordin inside the SUV, heading to our resort, nothing could have stopped me from having the life I dreamed of with her. In that moment, those promises I made to her when I was a twenty-three-year-old hustler with dreams were now being put into fruition.
She was my one.
My only.
My every-fucking-thing.
“I can’t believe we’re here. This is truly breathtaking,” she said, staring out of the window.
“It is. You ready to become Mrs. Sullivan?”
She looked over at me and smiled. “Do you even have to ask?”
“Just wanted to be sure since you were about to marry another nigga.”
“Oh em gee. Are you ever going to let that go?”