Free Lust by Noire Page A

preacher was rushing to wrap up Princess’ eulogy before any more ghetto nonsense could jump off.
    “Yo,” Trey’s man Skeet leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder. He nodded towards the center aisle of the church where once again the crowd of mourners was parting, but this time it was to let four uniformed police officers get through.
    “What the fuck is up with this?” Skeet muttered. “First this child gets disrespected by some come-up crew, and now the blue boyz is rollin’.”
    Trey’s expression never changed as the cops walked through the grieving crowd and came straight up to the front of the church. The preacher looked confused, and he stumbled over the words in his sermon as the officers posted up in the front row directly in front of Trey and old Mr. Howell.
    All four cops were well known in the community, and Trey knew exactly why they were there. He nodded at his boy Skeet, then slid Mr. Howell outta his arms. Skeet threw his arm around the old man as Trey stood up. He towered over the cops as he grilled them with a cold, neutral expression in his eyes.
    “Yo, y’all niggahs straight buggin’, son,” Rain hollered as one of the cops went to grab Trey’s elbow and lead him down the aisle. “We at a funeral, fool!”
    Trey shot the cop a ‘wish-yo-ass-would’ look that was so dark and menacing that the little dude backed off and put his hands back down at his sides.
    Trey strode unhurriedly outta the church with his head held high and his eyes full of love for the people in his hood.
    “What y’all messing with him for?” A wrinkled old man hollered from the back of the room. A loud chorus of voices joined him. “Where the hell was y’all ten minutes ago when a gang of drug dealers was up in here about to shoot us down?” the people shouted. “Huh? Huh? Where was all of this so-called police presence in the community then?” they screamed.
    Trey’s kids from The Crossover were back up on their feet and yelling too. They looked swole and hyped and ready to wild the fuck out this time, but there was a calm authority about Trey as he motioned for them to sit back down and chill. Giving his boys an example of how to handle themselves under this kind of pressure was a big part of teaching them how to survive in this world as young black men, and the self-assuredness of Trey’s mad swagger was all they had to see in order to confirm that he had everything under control.
    Trey took his time leaving the church and the cops trailing behind him had no choice but to stop and wait each time he paused to hug an old lady or dap out some of the older men of Harlem. He lingered in the crowd accepting the love he was being shown from the young and the old alike, and there were tears in the eyes of countless mothers who reached out to hug, kiss, and thank him for saving their children from the same fate that had befallen the young girl they had all gathered to mourn.    
    Finally, Trey paused at the door, and looked back at the crowd of people who had turned to watch him go. He could tell they were still mad about the disrespect Princess had suffered, and male and female, young and old, they looked agitated and ready to get something started. Like they were just itchin’ to jump all over the po-po if Trey would just give them the nod.
    His Talented Ten crew had also followed him toward the doors, and the little peashooters the cops were strapped up with were no match for the superior firepower Trey knew his dudes were packing.
    But Trey also knew this day was about honoring Princess and not about reckless rage. He gave the enormous crowd a fearless look that said, “I got this,” and then he stepped calmly outside the church doors and into the bright sunlight.
    “Dig, Trey,” one of the cops who had been his manz back in high school reached for some dap as they walked toward the squad car. “We just out here doing our jobs, ya know?”
    Trey didn’t even look at dude as he folded his long legs