had a few tears trickling down her cheeks as she said her vows to me. She gripped my hands tightly and I knew her words truly came from the heart. The Judge nodded, then he turned to me and said, “Your turn young man.”
I gazed at America. I wiped the few tears from her face and smiled. I took a deep breath and said, “You know I love you, America. So let our hearts become one, tightly locked. Let there be no keys to unlock our trust, unlock our love, unlock what those will try to oppose. The first time I looked into your eyes, I knew that you would become someone so special to me, someone so dear to me. You always been there for me, got me hooked on your style and admit that for me, your type is just right, the one I’ll soon have become my wife. You’re my heart and soul, my boo, my lady, and angel in my life, a woman that makes me wanna exceed to become my best… I feel blessed with you and fortunate to have someone like you for my queen to my king. Give yourself to me and I will give myself to you. Placing you on the highest pedestal, then bow down on my knees to cherish and love my Nubian black queen. I promise to give you all I can as your man, removing the feeling of vulnerability, increasing the possibility of true uncompromising love. Now the sensation of your love covers my heart. The look in your innocent eyes, the touch of your innocent face, and I see my world, my all, the one I will always love. So as a man I try to close my eyes, so I can hold back my cries. But the harder I try, the harder I cry. Because the warmth of your touch, and the blessing of your heart, now have my eyes in tears, leaking wonderful soft cries for the love you and I share. Now falling in love I no longer fear and playa for life I no longer care, because I now feel more secure of what you and I share. So I wanna thank you for warming up a playa’s heart, because now it’s burning for just your love. I love you, baby…and today, I want you as my wife.”
When I was done, more tears trickled down America’s cheeks.
“Very well said,” the judge said, nodding and smiling at me.
I held America’s hands, facing her in my dark blue blazer, black slacks and wing tip shoes, feeling like I was on top of the world. The judge looked at America.
“Do you, Ms. America Stallings take Omar Stanfield, to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you apart.”
“I do,” America proudly stated, staring into my eyes with a smile.
He repeated the same vows and I looked at my beautiful woman and said, “I do.”
The judge announced that we were officially married. I pulled America into my arms and gave her a passionate kiss.
“I love you,” I proclaimed.
“I love you,” she repeated.
It was official. She was my wife. Now I had to step my game up and do me on a more positive note. I had opened a new chapter in my life, and so far it was looking good.
8
Respect what’s mine.
Know not to cross that line.
I won’t have to get out of line
and clap you with my nine…
Omega
I ran Jamaica Queens with an iron fist. I wanted to be more feared than any gangster that came up before me. I acquired my reign in Queens violently through blood. My name ran thick through these streets like traffic and I had cash money longer than train smoke.
I was a street soldier for Tyriq’s vicious drug crew and learned what I could from him until I set his punk ass up. Tyriq and Tip were gun down by Demetrius’ hit men in New Jersey. I watched their brains spill and their blood splattered across the front seat and couldn’t help but smirk. It was the beginning of my rise to power. Tyriq had fucked up and it cost him his life. He fucked up by bringing Vincent in the mix and a bloody war ensued with the Columbians.
In order for me to stay on top, I had to stay smarter, wiser, hungrier and more vicious than the next gangster. I couldn’t look weak, and couldn’t show any kindness. That was how I survived the war and proved my control on the streets.
There was a constant anger in me, driving me to care about anything but that money and my business. I had trust for no one, except for my right hand, Soul…who was released after doing a four-year bid. He was missed and I knew that I needed him by my side again. The two of us together again, we could own New York.
I rode around Queens in my candy red Lincoln Navigator with the vertical Ferrari style doors with the windows tinted and having the door handles, the gas tank cover and the exhaust chromed out. My interior was pearl white with red stitching and four small flat screens hung from the moon-roofed ceiling over each seat. And my truck rested on 26” chromed rims that made my truck feel like it was reaching to the sky.
I was showing my wealth, but not too blatantly. I didn’t want the feds to come creeping up on me. I had enough enemies hating on me and didn’t need the heat from law enforcement anytime soon.
It was a cool clear night and I felt this inward calm, knowing Soul was home and I had to go see my dude and show him a good time. We came up together since we were knee high. From playing in dirt and sand, slap-boxing each other in the streets, stealing snacks out the bodegas, fighting, running trains on bitches, we both got in the game together on the strength of my older brother, Rahmel. Soul was the one nigga that knew me best and the one nigga I would die for. We stood tall and held on to the attitude that we either gonna ride or die for each other. There was a promise that if one fell, then the next man would stand tall and hold the block down. I did that.
Soul was coming home to an empire that I had built over the years, and unfortunate for him, he caught a gun and drug charge and did that bid alone. I owed the nigga my life. The D. A. wanted to offer him a plea for exchange that he would testify against his brothers. They wanted me for years. I was lethal like the virus and had more bodies than a southern cemetery. I lived reckless, but lived smart. Soul had refused the DA’s offer and even spit in his face for the offer. Soul was willing to ride out his time. I had much love for my nigga.
Navigating my truck down Rockaway Blvd, I stopped at a local bodega for a beef and cheese patty. It was reaching midnight soon. Four young niggas that were hanging out in front smoking and rolling dice gave me the nod of respect, knowing who I was and how fierce my reputation rang in the streets.
I wasn’t alone. My 357 was tucked safely and concealed in the small of my back. I wore jewels with five-thousand cash bulging in my pockets and knew no one had the balls to step to me. I murdered many niggas coming up in this game and with the Jamaicans backing me and becoming my number one supplier, we quickly put the competition out. I was king of Queens.
Outside the bodega, I strolled confidently to my truck and quickly devoured my patty. Fifty Cent played and I turned up the volume to Many Men.My system blared and the young niggas bobbed to the bass, admiring my truck.
I was on my way to link up with Greasy at a spot on Linden Blvd. It was a good day. I had sent a message to Tiny—several of his men were now permanently resting in the morgue. I had to watch my back. This was war and I was a veteran on these streets. Soul was finally home and knowing that made my crew not only stronger but deadlier.
9
Let our hearts be one knot, Tightly locked,
Let no keys unlock our trust, Unlock our love,
Unlock whatever anyone opposes…
America
“I is married now… I is married now,” I joked, imitating Shug Avery from the Color Purple.
Omar laughed at me as he carried me across the threshold into our suite at the Marriot. We were in downtown Brooklyn where we booked a room for the night. Going back to the apartment after our ceremony was a bit too ghetto