Page 43 of This Is Law 2

After our lunch outing, the driver took me home.

Once I was home, I just chilled at the house until my rehearsal that I had tonight.

Around 8:00 P.M., when I woke up from my nap, I saw that I had a text message from Kross.

He was texting me, asking me if I was busy because he wanted to pull up on me, and talk.

I could tell from the tone of the message that whatever it was that he wanted to talk about, it was serious, so I went ahead and texted him my address, telling him that he could pull up, but I told him that I had to be gone by nine because I wanted to make it on time to my rehearsal that started at ten.

He told me that he would be to me in fifteen minutes, so I used that time to pull myself up from the bed, and I was able to take a quick shower, and throw on some lounge clothes.

The second I finished putting lotion on my body, and spraying some perfume, there was a knock on my apartment door. I walked out of my bathroom and headed in the direction of the front door. I looked through the peephole, just to make sure that it was Kross standing on the other side, and it was.

I opened the door for him, and he had a look on his face like whatever he was going through right now, it was heavy and bothering him.

I could smell the loud ass weed that he probably just finished smoking on his clothing, plus his eyes were blood shot red, proving to me that he was good, and high.

I haven’t seen Kross since that night at the studio, and the two of us chopped it up.

He had such a dark, negative spirit to him that day, that I knew I didn’t want around me, so I just never cared to hit him up, and spend down with him since that day.

“You good?” I asked him, picking up on the sadness that he was wearing.

“Shit, not really. I just needed somebody that I could pull up on, and vent to. I know you said that your pressed for time, so I’ll make it quick,” he responded.

I stepped out of the way, so that he could come inside my apartment.

I lived in a brand-new apartment building in downtown Miami, and my place was honestly my sanctuary.

Very few people knew where I laid my head, but because of the history that I had with Kross, I didn’t mind him coming over and pulling up on me.

If it had been another nigga, I would’ve told them to explain over the phone, because I wouldn’t allow them to come to my place.

I led the way to the living room area that I had, and I sat down on the couch.

Kross came over, taking a seat down on the same couch as me, but he left a little space between us.

He slouched down a little bit in the chair, and he put his hands behind his head.

I didn’t say anything. I was going to give him the floor and let him speak on what he was feeling whenever he was ready.

“My pops called a meeting at 8 this morning. He said that it was some important shit that he wanted to share with us. I’m thinking this nigga was about to say something like he was going to go up on the product that he was getting from his plug, maybe even something about opening up new traps, changing blocks where we served, or something like that.

Shit, maybe this was me being delusional, but I even thought that he was getting ready to pass the crown to me.

I don’t even know why I thought that because I been home from prison for a little minute, and this man just put me back on the corners for him, after making me sit down for months.

He didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he told us that we were going to do two more shipments, which would take us about two months to get out on the streets, and after that, he was closing down shop, and retiring,” Kross shared with me.

Hearing that, it made me sigh because I could now see why Kross was looking so down, and like he’d just lost his best friend.

“Damn Kross. At the same time, your dad is in his sixties. You couldn’t have possibly thought that he would be doing this shit for much longer. You had to have known that he was going to have to walk away from this shit one day,” I responded.

I’m sure it’s not what he wanted to hear right now, but I was just trying to be realistic with him. He nodded towards the things that I was saying, and then he turned his head to look at me.

“You would think that in these next two months, he would mold a nigga and try to get me to be at least half of the man that he was, so that he could pass this shit down to me. I feel like he basically putting me in a situation to drown, man. It’s easy for him to walk away from the game because he’s over there sitting on millions.

I’m not sitting on the kind of bread that he got.

When I came home from prison, I was hoping that he was going to put me on, so that I could save up enough money and get me a new whip and move out of his place.

Shit make me feel like a little ass boy, knowing that I’m living with my pops, and that I gotta go to him, and ask him if I can push one of his whips because I don’t have one of my own right now,” he released, and he picked his hand up, so that he could run it down his face.

“Kross, it gotta be something else that your good at. Moving weight can’t be the only thing that you know how to do.

What about finding a trade? You don’t want to learn how to work on cars?

Cut hair? Maybe you can even get into construction work, and fix up people’s houses, and shit.

From what I know about you, I know that you will never be the kind of person that will want to clock into a job, and work for someone.

Your used to drug money, so you want your money fast. It’s other shit out here that you can be doing besides selling drugs to make fast money.

I hate that all the niggas that I know has the mentality that the only way for them to become rich is to move weight, or scam.

Don’t you watch the news? Ya’ll not afraid of the shit that’s going on in the world right around us?

Reggie was my label mate. He’s young. He didn’t even hit twenty- five years old, and with the shit that they out here saying about him, and his crew, that nigga may not see freedom again.

How come ya’ll see that kind of shit, and ya’ll don’t let it be on your conscious, and scare ya’ll into doing something else?

” I really wanted to know the answer to that question.

If I was out here selling drugs, killing, gang banging, and all the other shit that Reggie was doing before he was locked up, and I saw the time that he was looking at, that shit would have scared me straight, and forced me to do something legit to make my money.

“I hate when people do that. That’s just like if rapping didn’t work out for you, but it’s something that your deeply passionate about, and I come and try to sway you in a different direction, asking you if you want to do hair, or nails like the rest of these bitches out here.

Don’t try to discredit what I want to do, Autumn.

I was raised in this drug shit. The second my pops took me in full-time, the shit was right in my face, so I knew that this was what I wanted to be doing for a very long time.

School not an option for me. I don’t give a fuck if it’s trade school.

As far as that shit with Reggie, I’m not going to let that scare me because it’s very rare that that kind of shit will happen.

Someone in his camp was talking to the feds.

Ain’t no fuckin way the feds got all this shit on him, and his crew, unless somebody was telling that shit to them.

They know too much information,” he responded.

I could tell that this was something that he was passionate about, and there really wasn’t a way that I could sway him in another direction, so I wasn’t going to try to.

“I hear you. What do you want from me though? I know you didn’t drive all the way over here just to vent to me. What you want?” I asked, eyes on him, waiting on him to tell me the truth because I knew that it was something.

There was a nervous look in his eyes, as he sighed, and he pulled down on the little piece of chin hair that he had.

“I ain’t going to lie, Autumn. I do need something, and I know that your good for it. Can I hold fifty?” this nigga asked me, and when he asked, my eyes bucked, staring at him like he was crazy.

“Nigga, fifty what?” I shot.

“Fifty g’s,” he responded.

“Kross, don’t ask me for nothing that I can’t ask you for, and don’t ask me for nothing that you know you won’t be able to pay back,” I said, rolling my eyes, and he sucked his teeth.

“For me to even ask you for that amount of money, you gotta know that I have a plan in motion, and I’m going to be able to get that back to you, plus more.

I got a play lined up. I got a plug that I want to work with, start up my own crew and shit.

That nigga told me that I gotta give him fifty up front for me to cop weight from him.

I swear to God Ima flip that shit, and get the fifty to you, plus more,” he responded, and I didn’t believe his ass at all.

This nigga own damn daddy didn’t trust him enough to run an entire enterprise for him while he retired, so there was no way in hell that I would trust him enough to hand him over that much money, think that he would flip it, and give it back to me, plus more.

I had to laugh because the shit didn’t even sound convincing.