Good Guy Gone Bad: Book Ii

By Lagantra Outen

The good guy just cant get it right. He searches for love in all the wrong places. He goes from woman to woman, looking for any type of connection. The young lamb seems to find serious problems dealing with the different women that come across his path. His first true love and his daughters mother, Jada, hopes that she can patch things back together with him. Will she be able to capture the good guy again before he goes bad, after he became a womanizer, fighting over the females that show him special attention that he cant be still long enough to stay focus? Will Lagant hold on to his first love after he has a taste of freedom, living the single life again, or is he off to the races running wild?

The navy is soon to release Lagant from his military duties because of medical reason. Lagant is feeling pressured on how he would survive and support his daughter when all he knows is the military, which he joined straight out of high school. The young lamb starts to lose more of his innocence. He thinks about following the path of what he knows of his unknown father and older brother, making fast money, but he needs a team. He reunites with two of his younger cousins from Newark, New Jersey, who are thug out and into the street life. Lagant puts a plan together that he thinks would work, or would it lead him to jail or death?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984526113

Lagantra Outen

I, the author would like to take this time to thank all that read my books, Good Guy Gone Bad. Part 1&2. I hope you enjoyed them and are looking forward to read part 3 as much as I am ready to write it. Follow me on ( FB): Lagant Outen My Name is Lagantra Outen, I go by many names aka Kato depending on the time and place that we met, most people knows me by a different aka but it is only one me. No matter what name I told you I still kept it real with no masks. I enjoy writing and I have an extraordinaire imagination and loads of personal experiences look out for my horror, suspense and drama novel soon to come.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 by Lagantra Outen.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2018905342

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-9845-2609-0

             Softcover     978-1-9845-2610-6

             eBook           978-1-9845-2611-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 05/03/2018

Xlibris

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Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

The good guy just can’t get it right. He searches for love in all the wrong places. He goes from woman to woman, looking for any type of connection. The young lamb seems to find serious problems dealing with the different women who come across his path. His first true love and daughter’s mother, Jada, hopes that she can patch things back with him. Will she be able to capture the good guy again before he goes bad? After he becomes a womanizer, fighting over the females who show him special attention, he can’t be still long enough to stay focused. Would Lagant hold on to his first love after he has a taste of freedom, living the single life again, or is he off to the races, running wild?

The navy is soon to release Lagant from his military duties because of medical reasons. Lagant is feeling pressure on how he would survive and support his daughter when all he knows is the military, which he joined straight out of high school. The young lamb starts to lose more of his innocence. He thinks about following the path of what he knows of his unknown father and elder brother making fast money, but he needs a team. He reunites with two of his younger cousins from Newark, New Jersey, who are thug out and into the street life. Lagant puts a plan together that he thinks would work—or would it lead him to jail or death?

My thanks go to my mother, Pauline, for doing the best that she could for our family. A special thanks goes to my sister, Elmira, who inspired me to write even in her death—the good don’t die—and also to my lovely children: Iesha, Imani, and Myrical.

Acknowledgments

Like always, I would love to thank God first for everything He has done for me, along with the many blessings that He has sent my way. I believe creative writing is one of the many gifts that He gave to me. For without God, I am merely a man, and with Him, I am more than a conqueror. I give God all the honor and glory, for without Him, I am nothing.

Second, I would love to acknowledge my mother, Pauline. She has been such a big blessing in my life. She stuck by my side through thick and thin like no one else has, not only to me but also to our entire family. She earned the rights to be called Big Ma from all her grandchildren and great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren’s children to come. You are forever loved, Ma. I would love to thank you for all your love and support.

I love to show love to all my children. To my firstborn, Iesha Jynia Outen, I know the road was tough for us, but we stuck with each other, and we always will. I want you to always remember that I will always love you with every beat of my heart. You are the eldest; I want you to be a great example for both your half sisters and the ones to come. Daddy is not finished yet (maybe). I await my son, God willing.

To my second daughter, Sydney Iman Williams, I know there is something very special in you, and I’m going to help you bring it to surface with all the strength that I have. It’s not over until the fat lady sings …

To my youngest, Myrical Lagia Elmira Outen, just know there’s not a mountain high enough or valley low enough to keep me from you.

I want all my children to know that I love all of them equally. There is no measure on love when it comes to my own flesh and blood—love is love.

I would like to thank and give a shout-out to all my baby mothers, from the eldest to the youngest: Valerie, Monique, and Krystal. For what it’s worth, I do hold a special place in my heart for each of you, and there’s not anything I won’t do for you that’s in my powers. To my lady Krystal, Myrical’s mother and my soon-to-be wife, keep doing what you are doing. There is no me without you.

I know this may sound funny, but I’m cut from a different cloth, so I could do this. I would like to acknowledge myself—not trying to sound big-headed or anything like that. I never went to school or college for creative writing. I was just inspired to write. I believe I got the passion from my sister Elmira—may she rest in peace. She was murdered when I was just a little boy, around five years old. She had started writing her novel and never had a chance to complete it, so somehow her passion for writing passed down to me, and hopefully, one day I could get a hold of her transcripts and complete what she started. I do have a vivid imagination and hopefully can turn her work into a masterpiece. I love you, big sis. Please meet me at the crossroads.

I love writing. I love the wordplay. I love to share it with the world, and I feel if one person likes my work, it’s just like one million. So I would like to thank myself for not giving up and pushing for the completion of my second book. I wish myself much success in this world of ours when others doubted and were plotting my downfall.

I would like to shout out to the people for believing in me. Asia was there for me in my time of need. She is such a good friend. Melvin is a good friend and like a brother. He does my video production. Pharaoh is a good friend and like a brother. He is the one who writes the poetry at the end of my books. Look out for his poems. They are coming to a book near you very soon. Samuel Lewis is my graphic designer. Look for him on Facebook; he does excellent work, just how you want it. My cousin and pastor, Margie Lewis, a.k.a. Kitten, thank you for your love and prayers. I can’t forget my main man, Tarik-aka-Sheek. He is like a brother to me. He stuck with me through it all, never changing colors. To my California girl, Niiq Ford, if only things could have been different.

Thanks to my veteran family who served our country with loyalty, pride, and honor. Those are some of the good values and qualities most of the civilian world don’t have and need to learn. I also like to thank those at Lyons and East Orange and New Jersey Veteran Hospital, everyone who support my writing. Special thanks go to Maria Morales, Carol Hydock, Mary McAndrews, and Margaret Freeman. Special thanks also go to my proofreader, James Spurgeon; thanks for your input.

I would like to say to all my friends and family that I love each and every one of you in your own unique ways. Many of you—without saying any names (you know who you are)—please work on your love. Get your love up and get jealousy and envy out of your heart. It would lead to hate. Bring back unity and love as family and friends should do. There’s a reason we are in one another’s lives, and as family and friends, you know that you aren’t supposed to feel that way toward any of us. Life is too short. Let’s get it right because if we don’t, the devil will.

Singing to my haters—I understand why you feel the way that you do. It’s too bad that you didn’t give yourself a chance to get to know me. Then you would not fear me; instead, you would love me besides hate me. That’s just the same as to kill me …

I think that’s enough said about my haters. For now, just wait in line. Maybe one day you would change your mind. How long can you hate?

If you notice that I didn’t shout you out personally, that’s only because there’re too many names to be writing. Just know that I respect each and every one of you. I learned from my last book that some people felt a certain type of way because I didn’t mention their name in my acknowledgment; if I wrote everybody’s name, I know it would become a book. Thanks for understanding and wishing me the best of success.

I want all my readers to feel free to call me and let me know how they feel about my books. I take all criticisms and compliments. You could find me on Facebook as Lagant Outen. My number is 973-210-5975. My e-mail is [e-mail]. Don’t be scared to share. Hope to hear from you soon.

Chapter 1

Early one cool morning, before the sun could peek at the earth, the silence of the night was calm. The trees were at a standstill, and the stars were shining bright. It was around five o’clock in Chesapeake, Virginia. The whole neighborhood was asleep. They could not hear the tires of the squad cars or the trucks come down the block and roll into the driveway. They could not hear the cars doors open or close. They could not hear the police as they stomped the grounds surrounding the area with their automatic weapons out, loaded and ready for action. They talked on their radios, but the residents could not hear a sound. Then all at once, Shakur’s house whole heard heavy banging.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

Open up. It’s the police!

The banging got louder as they continued.

All the noise woke up Shakur and his family. His wife, Pam, jumped straight up and out of the bed like she was having a nightmare. Pam was usually the first one up in their home; she rose up every day at six o’clock from the alarm clock. This morning, she jumped up in a panic, yelling her husband’s name.

Shakur! Shakur!

She shook him hard to make sure that he was alert. It was five in the morning. Pam couldn’t understand why the police were knocking and banging erratically on their door so early in the morning. The children were in their rooms, crying out loud from all the commotion.

Shakur lay there still in a pool of sweat. He knew exactly why they were there. He never told his wife what really had happened. All she knew was what he had told her when she had seen his face bruised from two nights before. He had lied to her because there were some things he did not want his wife and family to know.

Shakur had a long run of being one of the biggest uncover drug dealers ever in Virginia. He never had any problems with the law until that night that came back to haunt him. He couldn’t stop thinking of how his good friend and best customer, Money Mel, set him up to be robbed. Channel 12 news reported a drug deal that got bloody and ended with two dead.

The reporter announced, Hello, I’m Sherry Chase. Tonight on the 1600 block of Elmwood Avenue, two men lay dead with multiple gunshot wounds. One of the victims had a gun tucked in his pants. Both victims were shot by two different guns. One was a nine millimeter and the other a .380 automatic. Authorities say it had to be more than one gunman. They don’t know at this time how many people were altogether involved in the incident. Witnesses say they had seen a green work van that had Painting and Plumbing on the sides of the van flee from the scene in a hurry after neighbors heard shots go off. Nothing is solid, but the chief commissioner says a full investigation will take place. I’m Sherry Chase, reporting live at the scene. We will keep you posted as we learn more … Bruce, back to you.

What bothered Shakur the most the day before when he was watching the news was the fact that they didn’t mention or show the picture of Mel. He knew that Mel had been shot down that night also. Things were becoming a mystery to him. Nevertheless, he was not the only one scared to death this early morning but also the rest of his family. The banging on the door by the cops—he knew this was the moment that he had feared. Pam ran to the children’s room to comfort them.

Out of nowhere, there was a louder bang. The police knocked the front door down and then threw in smoke bombs. There was infrared beams and flashlights combing through the living room in the house.

The police yelled, Mr. Shakur, come out with your hands in the air!

Shakur heard them, but he just lay still in bed.

Pam screamed, Why are you here scaring my family like this?

They heard her shouting from upstairs. They yelled, Who is in the house with you, ma’am?

Pam screamed, My three children and my husband! Why?

Where is your husband, ma’am?

Pam yelled, Shakur!

He lay in bed breathing, hard and fast.

The police spread throughout the first floor with gas masks on. They checked each and every room, yelling Clear! after they finished checking a room. Then they formed a line to head up the stairs—still no word or sound from Shakur.

The police put out a warning. They yelled, Shakur, this is your last time to come out with your hands up!

The lead police signaled for the squad to head up the stairs. You could hear their footsteps climb each step, one by one; the footsteps seemed like they would never end.

Pam screamed Shakur’s name over and over. The children could not control themselves from not being afraid. They cried out louder.

Daddy! Daddy!

Shakur tuned out all the noise that surrounded him. In that moment, it was like everything was quiet and at a standstill. The police approached the room door. Infrared beams flashed all over Shakur’s body while he lay still in bed. Some of the police officers settled and tried to calm down Pam and her children.

The first police officer at the door yelled at Shakur, Take your hands from under the covers slowly now!

The police didn’t want to approach until they had seen his hands in the clear from under the covers. They were awaiting orders to shoot. Shakur already had retrieved his gun from under the pillow. He was thinking of shooting the first cop who came through the door, knowing that they would have shot him dead where he lay. Shakur had never been to prison; he always told himself that he would rather die than go to prison. This was the moment of truth.

As his blood rushed through his body, his mind was concentrating on everything he thought of that could go wrong. He felt that it would catch up to him but not that fast. Shakur knew the best thing was to flee, but when it came down to it, he could not leave his family. Shakur was the type of man who wanted the world not just for himself but also for his family.

Pam, even as his wife, never had any idea that her husband was involved in drugs or any kind of criminal activities. Pam, just like the rest of the world, only knew of his legit business. She was content with her lifestyle as a wife and a house mom, taking care of chores for her family. She didn’t understand why the police wanted her husband. She questioned herself and just couldn’t figure it out; nevertheless, she was frightened for her family’s life.

The police yelled, This is your last warning! Put your motherfucking hands in the air, or I’m going to blast your ass!

Shakur slowly took his hands off the trigger and yelled, Don’t shoot, don’t shoot! He raised his hands slowly from under the covers so that the police could see them clearly.

As soon as they had seen his hands in the air, they rushed in the room and tackled him like he was a wide receiver who was trying to score a touchdown. Pam and their children pleaded louder when they had heard the police arrest Shakur. They could hear Shakur plead for mercy as they roughed him up. The police officers dragged him down the stairs and out the door. Detective Rogers started reading him his rights.

Pam was behind the crowd of officers, yelling, Baby, what happened? What’s going on? What should I do? She saw blood coming from his face as they placed him in the squad car. She screamed, What have you done to my husband’s face?

Shakur’s and Pam’s eyes locked on each other as if it was the last time they would see each other. No words were exchanged. She watched as the patrol car drove away. She fell to her knees and screamed, "Why?"

Detective Rogers walked over to Pam and placed his hand on her shoulder while she was still on her knees, crying. Their children cried out for their father. Detective Rogers spoke very calmly and gently, explaining why they had arrested her husband.

She screamed, Murder! Impossible! Can’t be! That’s my husband you’re talking about!

Detective Rogers gave her his card and then told her to call anytime as he walked to his car. Tears continued to fall from her eyes as the morning sun got brighter, beaming on her lawn.

Chapter 2

Gant! Gant! Ah, Gant!

Young Chantel yelled out for her brother. Two of the young bad boys who were down with the knights were bothering Chantel since school had let out two weeks earlier for the summer vacation. They both had a crush on Chantel.

Lagant had graduated from the eighth grade at Camden Middle School. He felt like a big boy getting ready to attend West Side High School. Chantel was heading to the seventh grade in Camden Middle. She felt like she was well protected by her two big brothers, with Bernard’s reputation running with the fellows and Lagant being the active livewire kid that he was. He wasn’t a tough guy or a bully; though he had his own reputation and a street pass in their hood to get away with almost anything, he never took it to his advantage.

This particular day, he heard the stress call of his little sister for him. Lagant was walking with his cousin and one of his hood comrades. They were heading to do a strong-arm robbery. They were on their way to catch what they called a vic (victim). They watched as the vic would come out of any of the stores on Springfield Avenue around their age or any they thought that they could strong-arm. They would go in behind them, scoping out their every movement without them knowing, and wait till they purchase their order and then walk out of the store.

That was when the young crew would make their approach. Lagant would walk up behind them and put his arm around their shoulders. To the world, it looked as though they were buddies; in actuality, they would be robbing them. Lagant would pat their pockets, demanding for their money, telling them to be cool, and if it looked like the vic wanted to get tough, that was when his two partners would be right behind him to back Lagant up. They would take what the vic had and run to the West Side Park and split it.

Lagant heard his little sister calling out his name. He turned around, walking backward, looking in her direction. He saw the two guys playing rough with Chantel.

Lagant’s comrade asked, Why are they playing with your little sister like that?

Lagant started running toward Chantel and yelled to them, Come on!

They ran behind him. The two young knights looked up and saw that Big Brother was coming for them. They ran so fast, all you could see were the backs of their sneakers kicking up dirt and rocks as they ran though the field.

When Lagant reached Chantel, he could see that nothing was wrong with her. He still asked, What did they do to you?

They just won’t leave me alone. Every day they keep trying to play with me, and I don’t want to be bothered!

Don’t worry. I’m going to catch ’em later. Now take your ass home!

Lagant lay still with the now ten-month-old Iesha lying on his chest. He was reminiscing on how he had to chase the boys away from his little sister. He knew that he would kill for his very own flesh and blood.

With everything that was going on around the young lamb, the only thing that kept him grounded was his daughter. He lay back on his recliner, thinking how he and his brother Khalil had escaped the triple homicide as Iesha played on his chest.

The police detective knew that it was more than one gunman; no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t get anything out of Shakur. Shakur stuck to his story. He had the prosecutor so upset that she put a motion to the court asking the judge for no bail, and the judge approved it. Shakur was sick that they would not give him bail; overall, he was happy that he did not go out in a blaze of glory. The IRS was investigating his entire asset and put a freeze on his accounts.

Khalil and Lagant were upset, more Khalil than Lagant, Khalil took it personally, though he understood that they had Shakur for the murders. Lagant and Khalil were bewildered. They both couldn’t understand why the authorities only reported two bodies when they were three. They concluded that one must have survived the shot and gotten away before the police had arrived.

Lagant was scared because they had caught Shakur so fast. Lagant felt that he was about to do life behind the walls of prison. Luckily, his big brother was there