Beyond The Broken Glass3: Finally Mended [complete]

41.)Bonus Chapter: Bylaws Beats The Bygones

It was dark as shit when our plane landed. He was talking his usual Mr. Mafia-type shit about how we had bylaws in place for a reason and how none of the lines should have been blurred in the first place.

Ralph is a sensible dude I would say. But he too naive when it comes to the fact that niggas can be defective. I'm sure them rules that they had in place when they were a secret society, as he calls it, but where I'm from we call it gang activity, was fine then. But when people get greedy and tired of following the same ole rhythm and blues they change they tune.

"Prince. Grab that black bag for me underneath the spare tire." He paused on his heavy conversation of rules and regulations that he and Darius set up to keep laws in order in their gang.

I swung around to the back of the rental and opened the trunk. With my bag already on my shoulder, I lifted the spare tire and sure enough, it was a black duffel bag under it. I pulled at the straps but that mothafucka was so heavy that it didn't budge.

"Say man—fuck is in this bag? This shit heavier than a sumo wrestler. You come get this shit."

He chuckled as he and Drew both tried to come and remove the bag but their smiles dropped when they realized they couldn't lift the shit either.

"Well—well—well. I knew I was being hunted but not by a runaway and his delinquent sons." We heard from somewhere behind us. I instinctively got ready, however, I was reaching for the Glock in the front of my waistband but I was quickly disarmed. They had the whole truck surrounded now. I could see the red beams aimed at us. Five-six guns probably. Maybe more waiting in the cut.

"I must say I'm impressed. You know. I didn't think that strip of land would mean this much to you."

"How did you find us?"

"c'è sempre un serpente nell'erba." He said and then started laughing. "That's why I always told you to cut it short."

"What?"

"You always were a little sus—weren't you Boone." Ralph laughed but it sound a little bit deranged. Like he was flying off the deep end. We still had guns drawn on us and now he decided that he wanna act manic. "You want us to believe that you're big and bad. That you're top dog. You're nothing but a little bitch. I made you!"

"Father," Drew said trying to get Ralph to calm down.

"sei sempre stato l'anello più debole." He laughed again and then swung his head forward and then back to move his hair out of his face. This man is tweaking. They can unload all these clips into us right now and he wanna play crazy. Talking in his native tongue and shit which he rarely ever did.

Who knows maybe the nigga finally did snap. But what happened next was something I was never prepared for. Ever. Something in his eyes twitched and it all went to hell.

"Send my regard to Darius..."

It sound so simple, so causal but it had so much malice in it. He smile a crooked grin as he unloaded two from his pistol straight into Ralph's head. I could feel his blood splashing on me as he fell.

I grabbed Ralph and threw myself back into the truck as Drew somehow managed to get to the driver's seat with quickness. He pulled off, leaving me in the backseat with a bleeding-out body.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" I panicked as I held him. "Why would you talk crazy to a nigga with a gun."

"He needed to be told."

"No—you needed to shut up! Look at you man—what—what is we supposed to do?"

"Make—make him pay. For—his sins." He gasped as the blood continued to rush. It was like he was there and then he wasn't. His head dangled as I supported his neck with my arm.

"Drew—drive this shit man!" I screamed from the back of the truck. He probably was going as fast as he could but to me, shit was in slow motion.

"Are they following?" He asked, coldly.

"I don't see shit!" I said as the grief started to kick in. I know it's probably too late to save him. And I've never seen a nigga be brought back from a headshot. That type of shit only happens on tv.

I slowly ran my hand down his face to close his eyes. As Drew drove through the streets. I sat in the back seat with the dead body of the man who served as a father to me. With each bump he hit our bodies jerked and fell every which way. I could feel his blood seeping into my clothes.

Ralph wanted this time around to be a clean sweep. No blood was to be spilled unless absolutely necessary. It's the way of the bylaws. He would say, Darius would have wanted it that way. Well, fuck them bylaws. Boone just woke a demon and he don't even know it.

Losing one father was enough, to steal from me and take my secondary father is unforgivable. I'm about to raise hell and anybody standing in my way was gone feel this shit and that's on Darius.

Drew finally pulled over into a secluded area with a bunch of nothing and some trees. He came around to the back and opened the trunk. The whole time He remained silent and then he did a silent prayer before he reached for something around Ralph's neck. He took the diamond embroidered gold pedant cross from his neck and put it around mine.

"We have no time for sorrow or grief. We have to keep moving."

"So you just gone dump him here?" I asked with a single tear rolling down my cheek. "I'm not dumping him here—we have to bury him. That's what he deserves."

"Prince. Right now there is a bandit of men out there who want to kill us. We have no time for formal goodbyes."

"Man fuck that! I'm not leaving him like this!"

He closed his eyes and aimed his head toward the sky. I could hear him inhaling, I could also see him balling and unballing his fist. When he finally caved. I glared him in his face and made it clear.

"Not here."

"What?"

"He need to be buried with Chloe."

He started rambling about how that was too much of a stretch and that it was already tough enough that we had business here and that we didn't have time to go to St.Tropez.

"He did it for her. Why we can't do it for him? You acting like this ain't our father."

He placed both hands on the bed of the truck and sighed. He was acting like he wasn't standing in front of the dead body who helped create him. I'm sick in the stomach and meanwhile, this nigga Drew was so chill.

"I can't handle this."

"You don't have a choice. He'd do it for us. So we gone return the sentiment." I demanded. I reached behind me and pulled out the thick wool blank that we were using to hide all the contraband in the trunk.

I instructed Drew to hold his head while I climbed out of the trunk. When I turned around he had his body cradled in his arms. Rocking slightly and kissing his forehead.

"possano gli angeli tenerti nel loro giardino per sempre finché non ti ritroverò." He said and pecked his forehead one last time. "I love you—father."

He laid him back and together we wrapped him in a wool blanket. This shit doesn't even feel real to me right now. Why would he only shoot Ralph and leave me and Drew breathing? They made no effort to kill us when they clearly could have.

Maybe that's part of his game. Throw us off and then pick us off. But one thing he should know about me is that I may wrinkle but I never fold. I was going to give him his karma in the rudest way possible.

We headed to the next spot, seeing as the place we had reserved to stay in was breached. Some lil small shack on the outskirts of New York.

I couldn't sleep I couldn't possibly close my eyes. One being I was in a house with a dead man. Two the dead man being Ralph. I was fucking sick to my core and all I want to do is fuck some shit up for him. When the morning light hit we put all the research Ralph gave us to use. I'm hitting them niggas up quickly. I'm not leaving any space for an escape for none of them.