leaving the courthouse now. I’ll meet you at the spot; have the rest of the guys there when I get there. We definitely have to figure something out now.”
“Done deal. And don’t trip, we’ll work something out,” was all Murder said before hanging up.
Getting into the car, Shells released all the tears she’d held back over the past months of dealing with the loss of her soul mate. Never has anyone completed her as Fast Eddie had. He was so many things to her – a father, homie, lover and teacher. And now with him gone, she couldn’t imagine what tomorrow held. Ever since she was sixteen Eddie had been a guiding force in her life, molding her to his specifications until she reached eighteen. Old enough to decide if the fast life he represented was indeed the life she wanted to live, because that’s all he knew. Coming from an abusive mother and drunk, perverted father, the decision wasn’t a hard one to make. Meeting Fast Eddie was like a dream to her, not only did he guide her, he also provided her with a means to live a luxurious life – one every young female longed to live. Knowing he had a wife and daughter never was relevant because, in Shells’ mind, she was his Bonnie and nothing else mattered. She played her position and some, never swaying any other way.
Before driving off, she wiped her red eyes, looked in the mirror, and made herself a promise to do whatever was necessary to get Fast Eddie out – not allowing anyone or anything to get in her way. The last thing anyone wanted to do was fuck with Shells. She was given the name by Eddie because when she leaves a nigga stanken, she over kills they ass, leaving no less than twenty shells per body, thus came the name Shells.
CHAPTER THREE
On the van ride back to Federal holding at the Waukesha County Jail, Fast Eddie watched as the cars rolled by for what would be his last time in a long time. He never realized or gave much thought as to how precious driving a car was; he always took it for granted.
Once back at the County Jail the Marshals put him and a couple other Federal inmates in a holding cell with some State inmates. Everyone was returning from afternoon court. He sat and listened to them cry about facing a year or two and it made him mad. He would have taken their lives for a chance to have been facing sleeping time like them. He would have slept for two years he thought to himself. The Deputies dressed out the Federal inmates first, maybe because they were paid more to house Feds than State. Who knows? But Eddie knew he was ready to get out of his court clothes and back in that bright ass orange jumpsuit. It didn’t make sense getting comfortable in them; it would be a long time before he would be able to put on his own clothes again.
Just as he was getting changed, one of the Deputies yelled, “Hurry up Mr. Smith you have an Attorney visit.”
“Aight,” Fast Eddie replied. Michael Steinley had come to check on his client to see how he was holding up. When Fast Eddie walked in the room, he noticed that Attorney Steinley was smiling and he wondered why he was in such a cheerful mood. Attorney Steinley told him that his assistant read over his trial transcripts and that there were some things that represented several different options and legal avenues they could take. He told him that they could go with a direct appeal or a 2255 Motion. Either one would grant some type of relief from the twenty-five years he’d just been sentenced to. All that shit sounded good, but the reality of it all was that nothing was guaranteed, nothing but the twenty-five years he was just given. Only time would tell and until something happened, if it happened, he had twenty-one plus years to do with the so-called good time he was eligible to earn.
He had been told that you get credited fifty-four days a year, after the year is served. It really was less than that if you were to do the math. Eighty-five percent was just as bad as the “Truth of Sentencing” that they had in the State. Fast Eddie asked his lawyer for the burnout phone so he could reach out to his crew. He was tired of hearing all the legal shit!
CHAPTER FOUR
Pulling up to the spot on 24th, Shells parked her car in line with the other four Cutlasses that sat in front of the spot. Cutlasses was Eddie’s car of choice, ’68 Cutlasses that is. Eddie’s philosophy demonstrated to him that, when hustlers get money the first thing they purchased was a shiny, new car along with jewelry. Well Eddie wasn’t one to follow anyone, so he made it a rule to everyone in the 2-4 Family that only old schools would be driven - clean ones. Thus deflecting the unwanted attention of the car watching cops.
Shells received her car as a gift for her 18th birthday. Eddie had it customized to her specifications; cotton candy pink with the black racing strip down the hood with pink and black Chanel interior, dashboard and roof. Walking up to the door of the spot, she looked back at the line of cars. She had to turn her head, willing herself not to drop another tear while realizing Eddie’s candy apple green drop top wasn’t in the line in front of hers. Gathering her wits, she opened the door.
Upon walking in she was greeted by Mayhem saying, “Shit aint looking good for the home team, Lil’ Momma.”
Picking up where Mayhem left off, Eastwood spoke up saying, “Look, it’s not like he’s dead. Ya’ll sitting here looking all sad and shit. Now isn’t the time for that soft ass shit, we still got to eat. Besides what the fuck can we do at this point?”
“Slow the fuck up, gym shoe; I aint feeling this shit you kickin’ to us. Our motherfucken nigga just got slammed and you talking like it aint no big deal. Personally, I aint going to sit here and let anyone disrespect my nigga, so if anyone got a problem with what I’m kicking at cha, holla at Say No, because the only thing separating us is air!” growled Say No.
“Look Say No, you got me fucked up,” Eastwood snapped back.
“Nah, you got yourself fucked up,” Say No quickly spit out. Realizing he had crossed the line, Eastwood backpedaled and attempted to justify his ignorant outburst by saying he was merely implying that they all have to get shit together because they would be no good to Fast Eddie or themselves at the rate they had been going. See, once the Alphabet Boys grabbed Eddie everything - they had going came to a halt. It had been a long thirteen months of struggling with robbing niggas and extorting them as well. Now it was the time to eat again.
“Hold the fuck up ya’ll,” Shells barked after seeing where their conversations were heading. “Aint shit about to crack until Eddie says so.” As if on cue her cell phone rang. Looking at the caller ID she knew it was Eddie on the burnout. “Hello. Yea, it’s me baby.” Looking at the guys, she held her finger up to quiet them down. “Hey baby, how are you doing? I mean, I’m sorry them crackas gave you the max. But know I’m here and the rest of the guys are as well. We’re down for whatever you deem necessary to help out,” assured Shells.
“Alright. I first need you to put me on the speaker so I can talk to everyone at the same time.” Placing the phone on speaker mode, Shell put the phone on the table and listened in to what would be their new instructions. “Look ya’ll, I aint got but a few seconds before the C.O. come back for me so listen up. I’m having my lawyer get me on the transfer list on out of here. Once I touch down to wherever these bitches send me, I need Shells to come see me A.S.A.P. In the meantime shut the city down. I don’t want shit moved in this motherfucker unless we’re getting our cut. If a dime bag gets sold in a spot, we need seven dollars of it. If it didn’t come from us, they got the Game fucked up. They should of never gave me all day because I now have nothing else to lose. We’re all at the bottom so all we can do is come up. I want all the snitchen ass niggas who took the stand on me dead before I spend my first night in prison. Are ya’ll wit me or what?”
“Till the world blows up,” was Say No’s reply, speaking for himself as well as the rest of the crew.
“Well, make me know it! When the time’s right we’re going to flood this bitch. 2-4, my nigga,” was Fast Eddie’s last words before the phone disconnected.
After the phone call from Fast Eddie, Murder was the first to speak by saying, “Now that’s what the fuck I’m talking about – get down and stay down. Niggas gonna bleed up in this bitch tonight. And the first one’s to get the bizness is the snitch made nigga from the H-O-P None of this shit