I frowned. “And if I come back, you givin’ me my money back, or I’ma beat you like you stole somethin’.”
G-double-A laughed.
He wasn’t going to get me down. I hated this place. I heard state was worse, but I had to get out today, or I was going to lose my mind. Being caged like an animal wasn’t natural—no matter how decent the facility was. My bed was too small, the cell too little, and there wasn’t enough space to store my work and regular shoes. The steel-toed boots they gave me were so big, and I only had one other pair of tennis and shower shoes by my bed. No Chainz had five pairs, which took up the same amount of space as my two.
My fellow inmates wished me well as I left the unit, escorted by the guard.
When I arrived at intake and discharge, Loretta wasn’t there. Maybe she’d messed up and gotten extra time. I stepped into the cage and changed into my suit.
A guard walked into discharge with Loretta. Her hair was pulled back in that awful ponytail. This was the first time I’d seen her edges nappy. No lip gloss. Her red eyes narrowed at me.
I ignored her. This was my day, not hers.
For beating up my baby, she should’ve done another two years and eleven months—the maximum inmates usually stayed at this location—or maybe Loretta deserved life for screwing up mine.
They cuffed and transported me to the courthouse. The ride was a few blocks. They brought me through the back, sat me in a cold room, and then took off the cuffs. Another guard stood watch over me until it was my time to go before the judge.
I had to have time on my book with God. Never asked Him for much. Sitting in the back room, I prayed for a miracle.
“Okay, Granville. It’s time,” the deputy said.
Entering the courtroom, I was shocked to see Madison, happy to see Beaux. The rest—Chicago, Chaz, their folks, Tisha, Raynard, Madison’s parents—didn’t matter. My mom wasn’t here. That made me a little sad. I craved her hug. I was surprised to see Loretta. She must’ve come straight from jail. She sat in the last row, in the corner. This wasn’t reserved seating, but it was the same place she was during my trial.
Oh, no. G-double-A’s person with the long cinnamon hair wasn’t here. I hope he wasn’t right about my going back.
As the judge walked in, the deputy announced, “All rise.”
Judge Owens did all the preliminary stuff. Blah. Blah. Blah. At least I didn’t hear that ice-cream story again. I wanted her to get to the important part.
Finally she asked, “Has the jury reached a decision?”
After running her mouth, she didn’t even let me say anything. What if it wasn’t in my favor? I could change somebody’s mind before hearing them read what was on that paper in that man’s hand.
Standing, the foreman answered, “Yes, Your Honor.”
Sitting high, next to my standby counsel, regardless of what was on that tape Raynard had, I knew there was no way the jury could find me guilty. Hopefully, he didn’t have a clear view of my face. No one saw any of the bullets hit Chicago. As far as I was concerned, whoever fired those bullets was shooting into a pool of water. How would anyone have known people would jump in the way? That was stupid on their part. No one would charge a driver for running over a rodent that ran into the road. It happened to armadillos in Texas all the time. Plus, they still hadn’t found no weapon, and I had proven reasonable doubt.
“On the first count of attempted murder, we the jury find the defendant, Granville Washington, not guilty.”
I almost peed in my pants. I started tap-dancing in my head. Footsteps trailed behind me. I heard the courtroom door open, then close. It didn’t matter who that was; I was next to leave here a free man.
“On the second count of attempted murder, we the jury find the defendant, Granville Washington, not guilty.”
Now I was suppressing my laughter, but I was sure my happiness showed all over my face. I wanted to give my standby counsel, the jury, the judge, and the foreman a big country group hug.
“On the third count of attempt to commit first-degree murder, we the jury find the defendant, Granville Washington, guilty as charged.”
My neck tightened, shrugged backward. How was that? I raised my hand. “Excuse me, Your Honor. I think he meant to say, ‘Not guilty.’ ”
“Mr. Washington, don’t say another word.” She looked at the foreman and said, “Continue.”
“On the fourth count, attempt to commit first-degree murder, we the jury find the defendant, Granville Washington, guilty as charged.”
I wobbled my head, and thought, He made another mistake.
The judge banged her gavel. “The court will take a fifteen-minute recess.”
Tears streamed down my face. I sat there, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Looking over my shoulder at my brother, he hunched his shoulders. I stared at Madison. She stood, staring back at me. Her stomach had gotten bigger. She was beautiful pregnant. I was most disappointed in the verdict because I’d failed her. I wouldn’t be there for her or the birth of our child.
I guess when I’d heard the door open and close, the woman with the cinnamon hair and the other with the red Afro had come in. But they weren’t sitting on the last row. They were one row behind Chicago.
G-double-A had some explaining to do. If I’d beaten the first two charges, what went wrong with the last two? It was only a matter of time before they put those awful handcuffs back on me in front of my woman. I called out to Madison, “Don’t worry, dear. I’ma file an appeal.”
CHAPTER 38
Madison
Turn your big, fat meat head around, shut up, and stop staring at me.
Granville gave me the creeps. Finally he was going to get what he deserved, but justice had not been served. I stood to leave the courtroom. Granville faced the front. I sat down. When he turned around, and started staring at me again, his standby counsel tapped him, then motioned for him to face the front again.
We all sat waiting for the judge and jury to return and for Judge Owens to announce the sentencing date. Helen had left after the first not guilty announcement. Chaz left the room during recess, presumably to tell his mother the final outcome.
It was bittersweet for me. Roosevelt answered all my calls, but he didn’t want to see me. He declined accompanying me on visits to my obstetrician. He didn’t want to see the ultrasound graphics of my baby. He said, “If it’s not mine, I don’t want to get attached. I’ll wait.”
I was tired of waiting to have my husband back. I was glad he’d made love to me before my surgery, though.
Disappointed in the decisions I’d made about Granville, I was foolish to let a bet ruin my life. All the hope I had was growing inside me.
Tisha whispered, “This part will be over soon. There’s no way they’ll approve an appeal, and even if they do, that’ll take years. By then, we could sell our houses and move our children to New York or California.”
Granville could get up to fifty years. If he got the max, he’d be almost one hundred years old by the time he was released. I stared at the back of his head, wondering what he was thinking. If the baby was his, at the rate of prison pay I’d never get child support, and I’d never have to fight for custody.
I was glad to have Tisha by my side. Loretta should’ve done something better with her hair before showing up anywhere in public. Sitting in the corner did not hide her appearance. No one had anything to say to her.
“Yeah, L.A. sounds good. New York gets too cold. What about Miami?” I asked, not caring about moving.
The places I’d love to live weren’t best for me to raise my child. Plus, there was my family business to operate. I was familiar with a big city. Houston was one of the largest. But free-spirited, fast-moving folks hailing taxis on one end of the country and half-naked women parading everywhere on the other coast weren’t where I wanted to rear my kid.
Texas was America.
Time passed slowly. Fifteen minutes had come and gone.
“Excuse me,” L
oretta said, squeezing in between Tisha and me.
I scooted to the edge. My baby kicked hard, making me grab my stomach. My unborn child could sense Loretta had bad vibes.
“Madison, Tisha, please accept my apology,” she said, touching my hand.
I pulled away. “Please don’t.”
“I wanted to pray real quick before the judge returned.”
Tisha moved Loretta’s hand from hers. “This is not the time or place, Loretta. Please move.”
Loretta proceeded to talk. “First John, fourth chapter, seventh verse says, ‘Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.’ I love you guys.”
Chaz reentered the room with his mother. My eyes trailed them as they sat with their family.
I didn’t believe Loretta. Neither Tisha nor I responded. I wasn’t going to become the hypocrite my ex-friend was. Loretta stood to move.
I whispered, “Thank God.”
The jurors reentered the room and took their seats. I felt stuck when Loretta sat back down.
When the judge entered, the deputy said, “All rise.”
“Oh, great.” Anger festered. Tisha was supposed to be next to me, holding my hand. Instead, Loretta divided us.
Granville hung his head. My heart dropped. Not because I was sad. I sensed the woman with the red Afro sitting behind Chaz was with him, and the gorgeous woman with the long cinnamon-colored hair was with Roosevelt. She tapped Roosevelt on the shoulder; then she whispered into his ear.
I watched my husband smile.
Chaz and Roosevelt were dressed nicer than I remembered. I understood why Chaz seemed happier without Loretta, but I didn’t know why Roosevelt appeared comfortable with that woman.
Now I remembered her. I’d seen the young woman at a local event where her father publicly bragged about her engagement to this French billionaire. That moment was like the scene from Coming to America. She rushed out of the room in tears.
Judge Owens spoke and I could hear the people around me breathing.
“The defendant is acquitted on all charges.” She banged her gavel once, stood, and then left the courtroom.
No one moved as Granville slowly walked out of the courtroom with his brother.
CHAPTER 39
Loretta
Being behind bars changed me in ways I hadn’t imagined.
Watching Granville walk out of the courtroom a free man scared us all. The worst part about his acquittal was he couldn’t be retried for the same crime. What did the judge see that we hadn’t?
I still had my gun; and if he came anywhere near me, I was going to shoot first and ask no questions. The world was a lonely place in jail, but I’d go back if he showed up at my door.
“Mommy, why did you leave me again? Did I do something wrong? Did I make you mad?” Raynell asked.
I sat on her bed, combing her hair. Every day since I’d been released, my daughter asked me the same questions. There were no excuses. I was locked up for thirty days, but I’d left her the day Chicago was shot. I was caught up with a man who would never love me. When I got her back after my breakup with Chaz, I never imagined going from court to jail. Thank God, all of that was over.
I gave her the same response. “No, baby. You did everything right. I was the one who was wrong.”
Having someone tell me what to wear, when to shower, when to go to bed, when to wake up, and when to eat was horrible. Sitting around from eight in the morning until ten at night, listening to all those women claim their innocence, made me understand that I was guilty.
Having my pussy eaten for the first time by a woman? I hate to admit it, but I enjoyed it. If I hadn’t gone to jail, that experience would’ve never happened. My returning the favor would not have happened either. Everything about her seemed softer. Her lips, tongue, touch, and—oh, my gosh—her techniques were better than any man’s.
My cellmate had a few more months to do. I didn’t need any new friends. I promised to visit. I’d lied. I wasn’t going back to that detention center under any circumstances.
“Is Daddy coming to get me? I don’t want to go back to his house. Gloria was mean to me, Mommy. She hurt me.”
After I left the courthouse, my first inclination was to go to Raynard’s house and beat Gloria’s ass for mistreating my baby. No way I was going back to jail for something stupid. The best I had to offer my daughter was to be with her.
The women in the detention center awaiting trial for murder made me realize if I’d handled my situation with Granville differently, Chicago and Madison would be happily married. No one would’ve gotten shot. It was my fault. None of us were happy. I was most worried for Madison.
The way I’d treated Madison and Tisha, I wasn’t being a friend. They weren’t speaking to me, and I deserved that. But I wanted my best friends back.
“You’re not going back to your daddy’s house, baby.” I’d say it as many times as I had to for my daughter to believe me.
“Mommy, you promise,” she said, holding out her pinky.
Locking my pinky finger with hers, as we pulled in opposite directions, I said, “Mommy promise. Your dad should be here soon and I’ll let him know you’re not going with him.”
Raynell hugged my neck tightly. It felt good to be in my house with my daughter. It also felt different. A certain innocence was gone. To eat, sleep, and go to bed when I wanted was something I’d never take for granted again. Now that I was on probation—not with the correctional officer, with my job—I had to do everything right to keep a roof over our heads.
The doorbell rang. I kissed Raynell. “You stay here, princess.”
Trotting downstairs, I poured two glasses of champagne, set them on my dining table, then opened my front door. Raynard was dressed in gray slacks and a nice T-shirt with OISEAU across his chest. He held a shopping bag with Saks printed on the side. It was spilling over with dresses for Raynell. He handed me an envelope.
“Hey, Loretta,” he said, stepping inside.
I opened the door wider and scanned the inside of his car, which was parked in my driveway. “I should’ve known Gloria wasn’t in the car, if you’re actually speaking to me,” I said, closing the door behind him.
The clothes and what was probably a check for $5,000 in the envelope reminded me of the way he used to be. Before I started dating Chaz, Raynard always took complete care of us. Now that I was back to being alone, he was back to normal.
“We need to talk,” he said, standing in the living room.
Leading the way to the dining room, I sat and started sipping champagne. “That one is for you.” I didn’t touch it.
Raynard picked up his flute, then sat next to me. He straddled his legs wide. My knees were now between his thighs. I didn’t move away. Looking him in the eyes, I said, “Before you get started, what was on that tape?”
“You can have it and see for yourself,” he said. “Obviously, it wasn’t enough to convict him, but it definitely cleared any suspicions they may have had of you.”
I smiled and gently kissed him on his lips, then said, “I’m listening.”
“You know the only reason I surrendered that video of the shooting was because I didn’t want to risk your doing time for a crime you didn’t commit. You made a few bad choices. You never should’ve dated that Granville guy.”
Okay, here we go. I knew he wasn’t done with letting me know how he did it all for me. I was thinking more like I never should’ve had your baby. What good was the tape if it didn’t get Granville convicted? It might be why he’d gotten off. I kept quiet while I continued drinking.
“We both ended up with the wrong people. Listen, Loretta, I want us to be a family,” he said, holding my hand. “I’ve never given you that, and you deserve to be my wife.” Raynard showed me the most brilliant diamond ring I’d ever seen.
Why couldn’t he have done this sooner? Like six plus years ago.
“Wear this. And when the time is r
ight, we’ll do it right.”
Shaking my head, I told him, “Raynard, too many things have happened since we had Raynell. I don’t love you the way I used to.” I should’ve added, “And neither does our daughter.”
He nodded. “I deserve that. Let me work on winning you back. Can you wear this and do that?”
I remembered what Tisha had told me: “When the ring is more important than the man, say ‘no’ to both.”
I could accept his ring, but I didn’t want to. “Raynell is uncomfortable being at your house, so let’s trade places for a while.” I lowered my voice, then said, “I appreciate your keeping her while I was away.”
I didn’t want him to hear the word “prison” or the name “Chicago” come out of my mouth; I was sure Raynard didn’t either.
He blurted out, “Gloria’s gone.” He sounded like he’d lost his best friend.
I knew what that felt like. I’d lost two.
“Gone where?”
He exhaled, picked up the bottle, pressed it to his lips, and then burped. That was rude. But there were moments when I was in jail that I wished I could do that from guzzling champagne. All my life I’d taken my freedom for granted. Not anymore.
He scratched the nape of his neck. “She left me for her son’s father.”
My jaw dropped, right along with my empathy. “Are you saying?”
He nodded. “Yep. That bitch—”
“Wait a minute.” I held up my hand. “Stop right there.”
Raynard was a well-known gynecologist; yet he didn’t know, or was it that he didn’t want to believe that his son wasn’t his?
“I’m not going to listen to you call her that. You were the one who was so thrilled to have the former Miss Houston as your wife that you paraded her at Raynell’s first birthday party. How do you think I felt watching her cling to you with her nine-month, naked, stretch marks–free stomach shining in my face like it had LED lights! You thought that shit was okay? Well, be okay with the fact that you were a fool.”
Like all the rest of those men with trophy wives and runway bitches whom they once had, ran around with, and were then fucked over by, Raynard got exactly what he deserved. Now he was trying to be my savior. I didn’t need no man to rescue me. The Lord was my savior.
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