Page 57 of This Is Law 3

We were all dressed in all white because I knew from Dutch that white was my pops favorite color.

The boys held balloons, along with flowers from the back.

I watched Yaya, as she grabbed my mom’s hand, and the two of them walked on the side of me.

I honestly didn’t know how my mom was going to handle this because she hadn’t been here in over thirty years.

I knew from Dutch that before she was put in the facility, she would often come out here to his gravesite.

Yesterday, I went to visit her, and I told her that I was going to come to the gravesite, and she surprised me when she asked if she could come as well. I didn’t want to deny her that, so I spoke with the staff, who signed off on it, and they had a nurse come with us just in case.

I held onto my sleeping daughters, as we headed for my pop’s headstone.

I knew how to get there with my eyes closed, so before we knew it, we were standing right in front of it.

I looked down, seeing the custom headstone that he had, with his pictures on it.

There was a picture in the center of us two.

The dark shades that I was wearing covered the pain.

This was how my pops had to meet his granddaughters for the first time.

This was how he had to meet all my children.

I carried onto my babies, leaning my head into their little backs, as I looked down.

I felt someone come on the side of me, and I naturally thought that it would be my wife, but it was my mom.

She stood right next to me, and I heard her sniffle.

I turned to look at her, thinking that she was headed to cutting up, but she didn’t.

She cried soft tears as she looked down at the headstone.

I watched her as she dropped down to her knees, and Yaya stood right on the side of her, along with the nurse.

Seeing my mom lean her head down, and kiss the headstone, along with spreading her arms out, as if she was hugging him, that shit broke me.

I had to close my eyes. Seeing what that fuck nigga had done to me, along with my mom, just made me hate him even more.

Every stab of that knife that I delivered to his body were for the years of hurt that he’d caused. We’ll never get my pops back, but after all these years, I finally got the street justice for him that he deserved.

My mom stayed on the floor for about five minutes, and then she stood up.

Creed was holding a broom, and dustpan in his hands, that she took from him, so that she could sweep up his headstone.

Once that was finished, she took the garbage bag from his hand, so that she could remove the old flowers, and she sat the new flowers there.

With a heavy heart, she looked down at the headstone, and she didn’t say anything else.

The boys placed the balloons near the flowers, and we all just stood here as a family, choosing not to say anything.

My wife came over to me, and she stood right in front of me.

I couldn’t speak because I knew if I did, I would start crying, so I just kissed her on her lips, letting that be the only words.

Probably ten minutes later, my family maneuvered over to my grandma’s headstone, so I stood over here by myself with my dad, still holding onto the girls.

“Give me some kind of sign to let me know that you’re okay, man. Give me a sign that your resting peacefully. That’s all I need,” I voiced.

Nothing happened. I swear, right when I was getting ready to walk away, two of the balloons that were there went up into the air, floating high up, and tears fell from my eyes because that was all that I needed.

I’ve come down here for years, asking this man to give me a sign that he was fine, and I never got anything.

I killed his killer, and I finally got that sign from him that he was good, and that’s all I needed.

I got myself together, and then I went over to my grandma’s headstone next.

Just the knowing that Dutch was responsible for two of my loved ones being out here enraged me.

I was truly a grandma’s baby. My grandma loved me, and she would spoil me.

My mom was a mommy’s girl, and the same cries that she let out for her husband were the same ones that she let out for her mom.

We stayed in this area and walked right over to where Sarai was.

That was daddy’s baby. Just like my pops, and grandma, Sarai had a custom headstone as well.

Seeing her little baby pictures on that headstone was heartbreaking.

Yaya was in a kneeling position, using her fingers to trace her headstone.

I motioned for my boys to come, so that they could get their sisters.

They each took a twin, and I went over to Soraya, kneeling next to her, and I removed my sunglasses.

I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she turned her head to look at me.

Her face was filled with tears, but she smiled, nonetheless.

“I’m okay. I’m not going to ruin the vibes today,” she announced, and then she stood up, and I got up right after her, pulling her to me, so that I could hug her from behind. I wrapped my arms around her waist, kissed her on her neck, and inhaled her scent.

I think we all could agree that these last two years were heavy.

Never thought that I would see the day where I would be on opposite sides of the courtroom with my wife.

I still bring that shit up to her from time to time because I couldn’t believe that we divorced at one point.

Did all that and ended right back up together.

As toxic, and as crazy as a love story as that was, it felt right this time. Got a lot of things right this time.

I was forever thankful for Dedrick. That was the nigga that hit me with the audio recording of Dutch.

That man was like an angel to me, and from the moment I heard the audio until now, I’ve called Dedrick a few times, thanking him for allowing me to solve it.

If I’d never gotten that audio, Dutch would have still been alive, and I would have been working my ass off to get that nigga out of jail.

I had to deal with Edward Sterling’s ass this year too.

That cracka came for my son, trying to ruin Creed, but the shit ended up backfiring on him in the end.

Just as I watched Reggie’s case, I tuned in to watch Edward’s case as well.

They gave that man 25 to life. Maybe in 25 years, he’ll have a shot at parole, but who knows.

That had to be some heavy shit on him because his wife divorced him and picked up to move to San Diego with their kids.

He was right there where he deserved, getting the aftermath of what people received when they found themselves trying to cross me.

That nigga Dominic was still around, too.

Should have never taken that Reggie case.

The whole world hated his ass because of it, and he’s been getting so much flack.

I never had any more problems after I had to check his ass over the phone, either.

I’m just glad that my wife didn’t fuck that lame ass nigga.

If she did, I couldn’t even be mad the way I wanted to because I did my fair share of shit too.

I was a changed man though. She didn’t have to ever worry about me fuckin up again.

Quay’s ass was a new man, too. I heard from Creed that Quay was at a new school, and he was playing football.

All he ever needed was a nigga to put a belt to his ass, and everything would have worked out.

I didn’t give a fuck how much he changed though because I still didn’t want him around my son.

I’ll finish the job and kill his ass if I found out that he came around Creed.

My boys were good though. Creed was still killing shit on the field, and Legend was still trying to change the world, and invent new things.

I was excited for what the world had in store for them in the future.

It was going to hurt to see them go off for college, but I knew they would be fine.

If Yaya could start them back at one years old, I knew she would because she was having a hard time accepting that they would be gone in less than two years.

As far as my mom, I still hated the outcome, and her living arrangements, but it was still a work in progress.

Who knows what the future holds? Maybe one day, she would have it all together, and I could take her out of that place, and have her live with me.

It wouldn’t happen now though. All this talk about Dutch killing my dad felt like it had pushed her back a few years because she had her days when she would really cut up in that facility and not want to be bothered with anyone.

I was just glad that I could come to her and tell her that I finally had Dutch handled.

This year was for sure a test. I carried so many fuckin scars this year, and I fought battle after battle.

I knew that God created me to be strong, but there were times where I felt like I wasn’t strong enough to handle certain shit.

There were moments when I felt like I was losing myself, but it all worked out in the end.

Looking around me, I had two beautiful set of twins, and a wife up under me that I loved more than I did yesterday, or the day before. My mom wasn’t too far away, and I didn’t think of her as weak. For everything she endured, she was a strong woman to me.

This was my story. Cutthroat like a motha fucka, but this was it. Through all the shit that I’ve been through, I’m still that cocky ass nigga from Miami that many hate but have done very little to handle it. I’m still standing. Still Law.

No matter what comes. No matter what goes. Just know…. This is Law!

The end!