Page 3 of This Is Law 2

Chapter Two

CREED CRAWFORD

“Keep it real. You fucked her, didn’t you?” detective Stevenson asked me.

Prior to tonight, I didn’t know who he was.

I still didn’t know much about him, but I could tell that he was cocky, and a fuckin asshole.

He knew Vivian’s dad. He came in with the cops earlier when all this shit had gone down.

The way him and Vivian’s dad interacted with each other, knowing each other on a first name basis, I knew from that interaction alone that they were fully acquainted with one another.

Detective Stevenson was the one that had the officers slap cuffs on me and put me in the back of a police car, all because I was getting rowdy with those motha fuckas and defending myself.

They were trying to paint me out to be this monster, that crept into Vivian’s room and touched her.

The shit her dad said was wild. In that moment, Vivian did try defending me, telling her dad the same thing that I had been saying all along, about how she invited me up to her bedroom, and how we didn’t do anything that she didn’t want to do.

He wasn’t trying to hear any of that though.

He was screaming at his daughter, telling her to shut up, and to leave out of the room, and that’s exactly what she did.

I was put in cuffs, and they brought me over to the precinct, where I was in a small, cold room.

I was back here, watching the clock hanging up on the wall, and I know that it’s been over two hours since I’ve been back here.

This was a tactic that they were using on me to scare me.

I have a father as a lawyer, and he would often sit me, and Legend down, and tell us everything that we needed to know about the laws, and the way the system worked.

We knew the good, the bad, and the corrupt shit.

Having me sit back in this interrogation room, keeping me isolated and alone, keeping me from placing a phone call or anything was a tactic being done to intimidate me, and to manipulate me, but that shit wasn’t working.

The only reason why I wasn’t tripping about the time that was going by is because I knew that I was safer in this bitch than being in the presence of my pops. That nigga was going to spaz out, and I wasn’t ready for that shit.

“What’s the charges man?” I answered his question with a question.

Detective Stevenson looked to be in his early forties.

He was dressed in all- black. His shirt was short sleeved, and because it was, you could see the full sleeve tattoo that he had on his left arm.

He was a white guy with pale skin, so the tattoos that he had really stood out.

His black jeans were faded a bit, as if these were his favorite pair of jeans to pull out of his closet.

As he sat before me, I could see his badge, and the gun holster that was on his hip.

He had brown eyes, with a bald head, and a full beard.

“You don’t have to play that tough boy act in here, Creed.

I know you. You’re not hood like the rest of these dumb asses that come in, and out of here.

I know all about that silver spoon that you were born with.

You come from money. Never saw the inside of a prison unless your father took you alongside him for ‘take your child to work day’.

Your scared. Your trying your best to control tears from falling from your eyes right now,” he responded, and I laughed at what he said, followed by me shaking my head.

Granted, I didn’t find anything funny about this moment, but that was just me doing that to refrain from spazzing again.

“I’m scared of what exactly? You done broke all kinds of fuckin laws tonight.

You had your guys put me in the back of a police car and didn’t even tell me what the fuck I’m being charged with.

Ya’ll put cuffs on me because I was speaking facts.

Not only that, but you in here, questioning me as if I’m not a minor, and there’s no legal guardian in this bitch, or someone to represent me.

You just brought up who my parents were.

Obviously, you know who my pops is, right?

You don’t think that I would know the fuckin laws?

When my pops finds out what the fuck ya’ll did to me tonight, I bet he has you, and anybody else that played their part with this shit reassigned to desk duty come tomorrow,” I talked shit.

There was a piece of me that was scared, but I wouldn’t show it.

I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, or if my parents were even on the way to bail me out of this fuck up.

As scared as I was to get around my pops right now, I knew that he was the only one that could successfully get me out of this mess.

When the officers were walking me to the car, I remember seeing my brother, and he told me that he was going to call our pops, so that he could get me out of this shit.

I knew he was angry, so I didn’t know if he was going to leave New York to come save me.

I had the kind of pops where he would save his kids no matter what the issue, but he was going to make us go through something first. Like, I really didn’t know if this man even hopped back on a flight to come back.

I didn’t know if he was going to find himself teaching me a lesson, and stay in New York until the funeral was over, and then come back to get me out of this.

I could just hope that him, and my mama were on the way.

I prayed to God that my mama was with him.

When he came down here to get me, and he was in that angry mode, my mama would be the only one to calm his ass down.

Then again, she was probably so angry, and disappointed in me as well, that I don’t know if she would ride for me, and have my back like she’s done so many other times before in the past.

“You talk a good talk. I guess your daddy raised you right. You can talk all that big talk all you want to though, but I’ve seen plenty cases like this before, and it never works out in your favor.

You had no business in her bedroom. You had no business touching her.

It doesn’t matter if your daddy was Obama, you’re not walking away from this one! ” he spat.

I kept quiet because there wasn’t anything else for me to say.

I said my piece. These folks wanted me to sit here and go into detail about what happened tonight in Vivian’s bedroom, and I wasn’t going to do that.

They were going to try and twist my words all around and have me confessing to some shit that I know I didn’t do.

I knew my rights. I knew that I had the right to remain silent, and that’s what I was going to do.

For another hour, I was left in the room.

Detective Stevenson would come back and try to scare me some more.

Here he was, one final time, and he was sitting down with another detective, and they were telling me lies, saying how Vivian was at the hospital, and they were doing a rape kit on her.

If I was weak, and my pops hadn’t raised me to be the strong-minded, and strong-willed person that I was, I know for a fact that I would have cracked a long time ago, gave in, started talking, giving them what they wanted.

They would have still thought that I was lying, which would have forced me to lie, and confess to what they were accusing me of.

My pops would talk to me about dirty cops all the time.

He’s been having these conversations with Legend and I since we were little boys, so to be sitting here, and to be watching this shit unfold like this, it was crazy to me.

A minute went by, and I swear I heard him before I saw him.

The sound of my pops voice sounded like a bad storm that was taking place right outside this door.

He wasn’t even in the same room with me, but I could feel the walls shaking.

My heart was thumping. He was in rare form right now, completely out of his body.

I hadn’t been sweating the entire time that I was back here, in this interrogation room, but the second I heard my pops voice, beads of sweat started appearing on my forehead.

I swallowed a huge lump in my throat, and seconds later, you could hear the sound of his fist beating against the door, along with whoever was outside, trying to calm him down.

Seconds later, the door opened, and my eyes landed on his.

There was an angry look in his eyes, but even with that, his eyes started from the top of my head, and they traveled down to under the table, where my feet was, examining me, making sure that no one had put their hands on me.

My pops was in his chilled clothes, but he was still in boss/ work mode.

The detectives in the room, that were sitting at the table with me, they jumped up, and they tried to walk over.

“What is my son being charged with?” my pops asked, getting right to the point.

“Ummm, we-

“Motha fucka, what? Umm what? They telling me up front that my son been back here for the past three fuckin hours! So yeah, answer that for me. What the fuck are you charging my minor son with?” his voice roared.

I’ve seen him angry before on quite a few occasions, but I don’t think that it was ever to this extent.

I could only imagine the way he was going to get on me once it was my turn.

The detectives couldn’t answer him. Suddenly, no one in this bitch had anything to say.

They had been fuckin with me for hours. The cops that were standing outside the door, all had their mouths open, and their eyes bucking, not saying anything.