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Law used to always tell me that he valued my opinion, and that I gave good advice.

Even with us being in two different career fields, he used to come to me at times, and I would help him out with some of his court cases.

For years, his ass used to beg me to go back to school, and get a degree in law, so that I could work with him, but his job was too damn stressful and demanding.

Granted, mine was as well, but it was something that I was passionate about, so I didn’t mind.

Law wasn’t my passion. I just happened to be good at it, and I gave great advice.

“You know I love Solace. I don’t look at her and judge her because of her mental state.

Even so, Law, you have to understand the condition that your mom is in, and we all know that she isn’t in her right mind.

At the same time, I don’t want to be negligent towards what she told you, either.

It’s like, that had to come from somewhere.

Then, on the other hand, I think about the kind of person that Dutch’s is, and nothing about him screams that he would have been the one to kill your father.

I genuinely believe that Dutch loved Knox.

What would have been his motive at killing your dad?

That’s what you have to ask yourself,” I said.

I didn’t want to sway Law in any kind of direction because if the truth was ever exposed, I don’t want to be the one that he blames for convincing him to think a certain way.

I just wanted to ask certain questions, that would get him to think, and he could form his own opinion from there.

“Shit, could it have been the power? The money? The status? Don’t get me wrong, niggas around Miami know exactly who Dutch is.

That nigga is respected. Even with that though, I feel like my pops was always the top dog, you know?

It was his drug empire that he’d built from the ground up.

Dutch was just his right-hand man in that shit.

You know how a nigga can get when he wants what another nigga has.

I hope I’m wrong though, Ya. I hope I got this shit all the way wrong, and I’m just paranoid, putting a bunch of fucked up scenarios together that don’t even make sense,” he called out.

I could hear it in his voice that this was really bothering him.

“When you pray at night, ask God to give you peace with this, and that if anything needs to be exposed, that He bring it to the front,” I told him, and he nodded his head.

“What are you, and Creed going to do tonight? Don’t hang this shit over his head,” I said, and he just shook his head at me.

“That lil nigga can’t do any wrong in your eyes. You get soft when it comes to them,” he shot.

“My kids are my soft spot. What are ya’ll going to do though?” I asked again.

“Shit, I don’t know. Probably take his ass bowling and beat the fuck out of him in that. Go get something to eat afterwards. I’m not sure yet. Why? What you going to be doing?” he wanted to know, and I chuckled at his question.

“Outside,” was all I said to him.

“Your version of outside is going somewhere to a rooftop, buying nasty ass fruity drinks, posting it on social media, and siting around your sister and Milan, telling them everything that happens in your life, but leaving out the part where you still be fuckin your ex-husband,” he called me out, and as badly as I wanted to keep that laugh to myself, I ended up letting it out.

“I slipped up. It won’t happen again,” I let him know.

“You don’t just slip, and fall on your ex-husband’s dick, but it’s cool. Let’s be delusional together, baby. I’m about to head out. I have business to take care of at the office,” he responded.

I followed him out of the door, and down the stairs.

Because I was walking behind him, his scent was just flying back, getting on me.

He smelled so good, and he looked so good in his button-down shirt, and slacks.

Creed, and his presence saved us because I fear that if he wasn’t here, I probably would have jumped on him, and we would have been fuckin again.

I stood back, so that he could walk out of the door, and I closed it behind him.

From there, I went back up the stairs, so that I could finish making my bed.

Once the bed was finally made, I came back downstairs, so that I could finish cleaning down here.

The trash and the dishes that I had fussed about had finally been taken care of.

Also, in the middle of me cleaning, Creed came back down, put me in a bear hug, like he loved to do, and he kissed me on my cheek repeatedly, and apologized for being disrespectful.

Creed really wasn’t a bad kid. He had his days where he could be slick out the mouth, and he had to be humbled, but he was an overall good kid.

I loved that I had healthy relationships with my children, and we wouldn’t do weird shit like stop talking to each other.

He knew he fucked up, and he made sure that the apology was just as loud as the disrespect.

We could move on from that, and I’m sure after the way his daddy jacked his ass up, that I wouldn’t have to worry about fussing at him anymore about doing his chores around the damn house.