20. Deuce
DEUCE
Two weeks that Italian motherfucker wasn’t bullshitting.
When Moretti first sat across from me and told me to give him two weeks, I thought he was talking that expensive lawyer shit attorneys told niggas sitting behind glass, but he wasn’t.
Moretti went to work on Agent Brown. Every report Brown touched.
Every affidavit with his name connected to it.
Every piece of evidence he helped obtain.
Every decision he participated in got thrown out.
And the deeper Moretti dug, the uglier that shit looked.
Brown knew his daughter was fucking me and knew I was married.
He also knew Kim was emotionally involved with me and wanted me to leave my wife.
The muthafucka had personally confronted me about his daughter before my arrest, then stayed involved in an investigation targeting me like none of that mattered.
Moretti tore into it, challenged Brown’s involvement, went after evidence tied to him and argued that his personal conflict had contaminated the government’s case then he filed the motion to dismiss.
The government fought it but Moretti fought harder.
By the time everything was laid out, enough of the case had been tied back to Brown’s involvement that the judge granted the motion.
Charges dismissed just like that and I was going home.
I still didn’t celebrate until they gave me my personal shit back.
When they handed me my shoes, that was when it finally felt real.
I got dressed slowly. The officer opened the last door. “You’re good.”
I looked at him. “That’s it?”
“You wanna stay?”
“Hell nah.”
“Then go.”
I walked outside and that first breath of fresh air hit differently. There were no concrete walls, nobody telling me what to do. No asking permission to do basic shit I’d spent my whole life taking for granted. I was free and Rell was waiting for me. He saw me and started smiling. “My nigga!”
We slapped hands before he pulled me into a quick hug. “About fucking time.”
“Get me the fuck away from here.”
He laughed. “Where are we going?”
“Home.” I said with no hesitation. That’s the only place I wanted to be.
I leaned back in Rell’s passenger seat and watched Detroit pass by.
Everything looked different after being locked up.
Regular shit looked good when you hadn’t seen it without a fence in the way.
But my mind wasn’t really on the city it was on Alisha.
Those divorce papers had been sitting in my head since the day they came.
I had read them more times than I wanted to admit.
Seeing my wife’s name attached to a divorce case pissed me the fuck off.
At first, I told myself she was angry and that Alisha was hurt and she would calm down.
We’d talk when I got home. But that last visit let me know she wasn’t playing with my dumb ass.
Malik bitch ass told her everything because he was in feelings apparently.
I swear to God that’s why I never really fucked with him, because he was a snake.
I was furious when I found out. Mostly because I wanted to be the one who controlled when that truth came out.
If I could’ve gotten my hands on Malik that day, we would’ve had a problem.
But the county gave me too much time to think.
And after the anger died down, there was another feeling underneath it, relief.
I hated how Alisha found out but I was glad she knew.
That secret had gotten too fucking big. Every time she talked about Shante’s babies, I had to lie without saying anything.
When she bought them gifts and called herself Auntie.
Talked about Malik being excited to be a daddy.
I sat there knowing the truth. No more hiding or wondering what would happen when she found out.
She knew exactly what I’d done. And in my fucked up mind, I thought that gave me something to work with.
I knew Alisha. She got mad and cussed me out and then went quiet, but eventually, she talked.
And this time I wouldn’t be sitting behind glass.
I could get in front of my wife and look her in her face and explain everything.
The divorce? I wasn’t accepting that shit.
She was still my wife. We had five years together and we had Brittany.
You didn’t throw that away overnight. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
When Rell pulled into my driveway, I sat forward and smiled. There was my house something I thought about everyday.
“I’ll hit you later,” I told Rell.
“You good?” He asked.
“Hell yeah I’m free.”
He laughed. “Enjoy that shower.”
“Already know.” I got out and headed toward the door. I unlocked it and stepped inside.
“Alisha?” I yelled. I closed the door and my smile slowly left my face.
Something was different. At first, I couldn’t place it because the big furniture was still there.
But all the little shit that made the house feel like somebody lived there was gone.
“Alisha?” I called her name again. I walked into the kitchen and there was more empty space.
Then I went straight upstairs to our bedroom and opened the door. “Man, what the fuck?” I said to myself.
Her side of the room was cleared out, not packed for a few days cleared out, but gone.
All those bottles and jars she used to have lined across the counter that I used to complain about were gone.
Only my shit remained. I stood there staring at the empty counter.
I walked across the hall to Brittany’s room and opened the door.
It was empty. I pulled out my phone and called Alisha. Voicemail, I called again, Voicemail.
“Come on, Lisha.” I said to myself before calling a third time.
I walked back into our bedroom and I sat down.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe right. She really left.
Not stayed with her mama for a few days but moved.
My wife had moved out of our house while I was sitting in the county telling myself she’d calm down.
I grabbed my phone again and opened my banking app.
It took me a minute to get into everything then I saw the accounts.
“What the fuck?” She wasn’t lying about that either.
The joint account was emptied except for a few hundred dollars.
There was a clear paper trail, but enough had been moved that I knew she’d planned that shit.
This wasn’t Alisha losing her temper. This was Alisha making decisions.
I stood up and called her again. I almost threw the phone.
Instead, I walked downstairs and stood in the middle of the living room.
I had spent weeks wanting to come home. Now I was standing in it wondering what the fuck home even meant without them there.
I was mad she moved and cleaned out the joint accounts and filed for divorce.
Mad she had managed to make all these moves while I couldn’t do shit about it.
She didn’t give me time to explain shit.
But if I was being real, I probably would’ve kept putting that conversation off.
There was never going to be a good time to tell your wife your sister was carrying twins for you and your side bitch.
Now I don't have to hide it anymore. Alisha knew the worst thing I had done to her.
And somehow that felt like the first honest thing between us in months.
I walked over to one of the family pictures that was still there.
I picked it up. My daughter was smiling and Alisha was pressed against my side.
My arm was around her and we looked happy, we were happy.
That’s what fucked with me I hadn’t been miserable at home.
I didn’t cheat because Alisha wasn’t enough.
That was the part I knew she’d never understand.
Hell, sitting there looking at that picture, I didn’t understand it either.
I had a beautiful wife and daughter who thought I was the best dad in the world.
I had a home, money, successful business and still found a way to fuck it up.
Maybe it was greed or my ego thinking I could have everything and nobody would ever make me choose.
Now everybody had chosen for me, Kim had her twins.
Shante had lost Malik and Alisha had left me.
And I was standing alone in a house I’d spent weeks praying to get back to.
Ain’t that some shit? I looked around. For the first time, I understood something about my wife.
I had mistaken loyalty for weakness. Alisha stayed because she loved me.
She forgave because she loved me. She showed up to court because she loved me.
And somewhere along the way, I started believing that meant she couldn’t leave.
I was wrong dead fucking wrong. She had moved her and Brittany into a whole new life while I sat in the county thinking I still had control.
That pissed me off, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me respect the fuck out of her too.
That was the woman I married, Alisha didn’t need me she chose me.
And now she’d chosen herself. I set the picture down.
My phone was still in my hand with her name on the screen.
I wanted to call again but didn’t because she wasn’t answering.
Calling twenty times wasn’t changing that.
I walked toward the window and looked outside.
I had just beaten a federal case. Moretti did exactly what Scambino sent him to do.
Agent Brown fucked up, Moretti found it, and I walked.
I should’ve felt untouchable. Instead, my wife had managed to knock me flat on my face without even being in the room.
I smiled slowly. “All right, Lisha.” I couldn’t even be mad at the move.
She caught me slipping. While I was worried about beating the government, she was making sure she didn’t have to deal with my shit ever again.
I didn’t even know where she’d moved. I picked the family picture back up.
She thought she was done with me. I wasn’t done fighting for my family.
I couldn’t use the scare tactic to get Alisha to fall back in line.
If I wanted my wife back, I was going to have to earn something I used to get for free, her trust. And judging by this empty ass house that shit was going to cost me.
I looked at the picture one more time then laughed under my breath.
“Okay, wife.” She had made her move now it was time for me to make mine.
I guess she forgot our vows till death due us part.
I wasn’t living without my family. Now I was out it was time to let muthafuckas know I was back starting with my damn wife!
To Be Continued …..