affected by the choices you made or may not have made.”
“So in sentencing you, Mr. Smith, I took everything into consideration and I sentence you to three hundred months in prison. The Bureau of Prisons will determine where you will serve your sentence. You are remanded to the custody of the U.S. Marshals. I wish you well Mr. Smith. This court stands adjourned,” Judge Davis said as he slammed down his gavel.
Fatima’s cries could be heard throughout the courtroom, she had just witnessed the only man who she had ever loved and cared for taken away from her. “This can’t be happening,” she thought to herself. She hadn’t done her calculations so she was unsure how much time three hundred months were, but she knew it was a long time. She gathered up her things and the kids and made her way out the door. She noticed that her kids’ grandmother had already made her exit. No hellos, goodbyes, no fuck you’s, nothing. Shit wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to be that way.
Fast Eddie’s face showed no expression as always. A lot of shit was heavy on his mind – his freedom, kids, his wife, his crew and also what lies ahead. He had heard so much about the Federal System from his people who had lived and died there, now he was about to experience it firsthand for himself. As the U.S. Marshals led him out the courtroom, he held his head high and one couldn’t tell he was a man doomed to twenty-five years.
CHAPTER TWO
Sitting in the courtroom stunned to the sentence the Judge handed down to Fast Eddie, her friend, boss and lover – Michelle, aka Shells, hurried out of the courtroom so she could call the rest of the 2-4 homies to give them the bad news that it would be twenty-five years before Eddie would see the streets again.
“Hello!” Shells spoke.
“Yea, what’s good Shells?” Replied Murder.
“Not a damn thang my nigga. These crackers done gave this nigga a quarter!” Shells blurted out.
“What the fuck? Where are you?”
“I’m 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
