Todd

“Yo, straight up. Y’all niggas got the wrong dude if y’all think I’m speaking to y’all asses without my lawyer,” I barked. These fucking cops didn’t know who they were fucking with. They had me in this interrogation room talking that let’s-make-a-deal shit. These motherfuckers were crazy! First of all, who the fuck would I snitch on?

I am my own boss. They wanted to know who I got the weapons from. “What fucking weapons?” was my question back to them. As far as I knew, I didn’t have no weapons; that was my story and I was sticking to it. They weren’t fucking with no little corner dude who would be running his mouth before his lawyer showed up.

That big white boy sergeant, Labeckie, hated my ass. He got so mad at me that he banged his hands on the little metal table until his shit was swollen. It was obvious that somebody in a high place had told that motherfucker that he’d better get me to roll or else his ass would be back on the beat.

I kept asking for my phone call every time they came in and out of the room. They knew they couldn’t hold me longer than sixteen hours without a call, and it was coming close to that time. I was hoping that Shannon remembered the codes I had taught her for the phone conversation in case something like this ever happened again. We hadn’t practiced those codes in a long time. I couldn’t trust talking on no fucking precinct phone, so we had developed some codes for an emergency just like this.

I had my head in my hands when Labeckie and his little asskissing cronies came back into the room. I knew they had been watching me through the blacked-out glass that looked like a mirror. I guess they thought a nigga was stressed, so they came back to make their move.

“So, Todd Marshall, here’s the fucking deal—if you don’t play, you stay. In other words, talk and you might walk. This is your final offer,” Labeckie said as he flexed his jaw. The sergeant was angry. I watched his chest swell and his jaw flex a million times a minute.

He was on the edge, and I knew it. I wasn’t bending over so these crooked-ass cops could fuck me with no lube—hell no!

“Yo, I need my phone call. Y’all got ten minutes,” I said calmly, looking over and leaning my head toward the institution-style clock above the steel door. The sergeant knew all too well that I was fully aware of my rights, and it just pissed him off even more.

“Andrews, take this pantywaist for his phone call. Then you can go fuck his wife right after—” Labeckie spat, smiling wickedly.

Before he could fully get the words out of his mouth, I jumped up and pushed away from the table, sending it sliding right into Labeckie’s chest.

He jumped up ready to flex.

“Don’t mention my wife!” I barked.

“Sit the fuck down!” Labeckie screamed as the two other cops slammed me into the table, knocking the wind out of me.

When I was finally given my phone call, I dialed Shannon’s cell and hoped to God she answered. I knew that by now she would be a nervous wreck, probably crying and all fucked up over this shit. I would’ve given anything to see her beautiful caramel face with those long-ass eyelashes she loved to bat at me. Those eyes always made me melt like a stick of butter in the sun. Thinking about my beautiful wife, with her slim waist and thick hips, being out in the world alone while I did another bid was enough to send cramps into my stomach. Shannon had told me that during my first bid, so many dudes who were supposed to be my boys had tried to fuck her it wasn’t even funny. I knew that most of the street dudes in Norfolk were envious of me, especially when they peeped my wife with her long hair; clear skin; and those round, perfect D-cup tits. Damn! I was fucked up just picturing her beautiful ass right now.

“What up, baby?” I whispered into the phone, secretly thanking God she had answered. I closed my eyes and moved the receiver away from my ear as my wife screamed out my name at the top of her lungs. It was breaking my heart to hear her in so much pain. “Calm down, baby. I don’t have that much time,” I comforted as Shannon wilded out on the other end. When she told me these fucking pigs had taken my safe, my stomach clenched and I felt like shitting on myself. Everything I owned was up in that safe, including my get-outta-jail-free lawyer stash. Shannon was crying so hard I knew I couldn’t fall apart now, too, even though I felt like it. “Listen, listen,” I said, making sure I had her full attention.

“Remember what we practiced?” I asked, trying to get her to calm down so I could tell her what to do next. Through her tears, she said she remembered. I told her, in code, to go to Jock, Zack, and Billy to collect on some loot all three of them owed me for recent sales and to collect on debts that they all owed me as well. Then I told her to go to the garage where I parked the trucks for the business; there was a small stash in a lockbox in the office. Shannon sounded like she finally started to breathe easy. I knew that between what my dudes owed me and what I had up in the garage, she could at least pay the bills on the house for two months and get a retainer up for my attorney. It was a solid plan. The only other person who knew about the garage stash was my dude Jock.

“I love you, Shannon, and I’m gonna get outta this shit,” I said to her before getting ready to hang up.

She told me over and over again how much she loved me too. She held on to the phone as long as she could; then these fucking assholes were breathing down my neck, telling me my time was up. I told her that I had to go, and it was probably the most painful thing I have felt in a while. It just sounded so final. I knew my wife wasn’t made for the streets, so I prayed real hard that she was able to handle the tasks at hand before my first court appearance.