by Mz. Robinson
He chuckled. “No. I had a girl till about a week after I was released. Then I had nothin’ but memories.”
We both laughed.
“You wrong, boy. You know that?”
“Meh, you gotta use what you got access to,” he said.
We laughed and talked for a few more minutes, until I decided it was time for me to go.
“Where are you staying?”
“At the Extended Stay America, over on Governor’s House Drive.”
“Are you working?”
Randall smirked, then shook his head. “You know how I do, just odds and ends here and there.”
“You’d better not be stealing!”
“I’m not,” he said. “I swear.”
“Lemme give you my number and a little something,” I said, digging in my bag.
“Naw, sis. I’m straight,” he said, waving his hand. “Just give me your number and promise that we can stay in touch. I got the rest.”
“Randall it’s not an issue,” I said, slipping $300 out of my wallet.
“Diamond,” he said strongly, “I’m good, okay?”
It was funny; there was a time when I’d argued with my brother because I didn’t want to give him money, but now I was practically having to beg him to take it. “You sure?”
“Positive,” he said, “but I appreciate the offer.”
“Well, at least let me buy you another drink.”
“Now that’s a deal your big brother’ll take ya up on, sis,” he said with a grin.
Chapter 16
I’d never dreamt I’d be visiting Gator in jail; however, when the thirty-day waiting period was up, I did just that. The two of us sat, face to face, at a small plastic table among a roomful of conversing strangers. I’d chosen to wear a sexy V-neck, fitted dress and pumps. I was pushing the dress code, a bit overdressed compared to the other women in the room, but I didn’t care. I wanted everyone to know that although my husband was wearing the same baggy, unflattering orange jumpsuit as the others, we were royalty. Our money was still very long. When heads began to turn, I knew my mission was accomplished.
I stared into Gator’s face, smiling brightly, admiring every beautiful detail.
“Oh how I’ve missed that smile,” he said.
“And I yours.”
“You look beautiful, love,” he said, leaning forward in his chair.
“Nothing but the best for my baby.”
We made small talk for a few minutes, until I finally decided to address some things that were weighing on my mind.
“Clint said an insider tipped the authorities off,” I whispered, leaning forward. “Do you think it was Jonah?”
“No.”
“Then why wasn’t he with you that night?”
“’Cause I sent him on an assignment before it all went down,” he said lowly, confirming what Jonah had told me the night before.
“Clint says there are people willing to turn State’s evidence against you, baby,” I said. “What if Jonah’s one of the them?”
“People might be willing,” he said, “but willingness also requires opportunity. I still have faith that my name rings more than a few bells, and so do the consequences of betraying me.” He looked at me with a straight face that required no further explanation. “When it comes to Jonah, he’s always been one of my most loyal associates. He’s proven that, and I hope he still is.”
“I understand,” I lied.
“Is there anything you need?”
“I’m good,” I said. “Just come home.”
“I will, baby. I promise. Did you put the cash I gave you back in case of an emergency?”
“Of course,” I said, “and I’ve been carefully watching my spending.”
He looked at me with both of his eyebrows raised.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, nodding.
“Gator, I know when and how to cut back when necessary, and right now I know I have to be careful,” I said seriously. “But as soon as you’re free, baby, it’s on! It’ll be registers ringin’ back to back.”
“I have no doubt in my mind about that.” He laughed lightly.
“Guess who’s home,” I said happily.
“Who?”
“My big brother, Randall.” I’d reconnected with Randall some time ago, but I wanted to tell Gator about our happy reunion face to face so I could gauge his reaction. Gator had never tried to keep me from my family but I also knew how protective and cautious he was.
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart.”
“I know, and he’s changed so much,” I said proudly. “It’s like he’s a completely different man.”
“I’m glad he’s there for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Good, because I let him move in two days ago,” I quickly tried to explain. “I mean, he’s been working when he can, layin’ his head at the Extended Stay, but you know how expensive that is, and it’s hard for brothers who’ve done time to get jobs, so—”
“It’s fine,” he said, cutting me off.
“Really?”
“It’s good that there’s a man around to look after you and Venetta. It puts my mind at ease a bit while I’m locked up in here. I know your brother’s had issues in the past, but he’s family. You should never turn your back on family.”
“That’s one of the reasons I love you,” I said sweetly. “You have such a giving and a forgiving heart.”
“I promised myself a long time ago that I’d help as many people as I can in this life,” he said, “no matter how much wrong I do in between.”
“I don’t even see the wrongs,” I said truthfully. “All I see in you is love, Gator.”
He gave me a small smile, then stared at me with an unreadable expression etched on his face. I was familiar with the look, one he often gave me when he was in deep thought.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned.
“Nothing,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I just expected you to look…well, somewhat different.”
“You don’t approve of my outfit?”
“You’re killing that dress,” he said. “I only wish I could show you just how appreciative I am that you wore it.”
“Then what were you expecting?”
“Well…for you to be showing.”
If there had been an Olympic medal awarded for awkward moments, mine would have been gold. I was caught off guard by Gator’s words, but there was no doubt in my mind that I’d heard him correctly. I pulled my eyes from his in an attempt to hide the guilt that I was certain was flashing in my gaze.
“The morning we flew to New York, I found the home pregnancy test in the garbage can,” he said.
Flashbacks of the trash being empty surfaced before me. I hadn’t given the empty can a second thought, for I was too focused on getting to the clinic. “Why didn’t you say anything?” I finally asked, looking at him in disbelief.
“I planned to,” he said. “I assumed you had something elaborate planned to let me know the wonderful news. I figured that was why you hadn’t said anything, that you wanted to surprise me or—”
“I-I did,” I stuttered. “First, though, I wanted to make sure the test was accurate, because those home tests aren’t always the best. The day you were arrested, I went to the doctor, and she confirmed that I was pregnant, but…oh, Gator. When I let the office, I started bleeding. I drove myself to the ER in a panic, only to discover that I’d had a miscarriage. I-I’m so sorry I lost our baby, Gator. I know how bad you wanna be a daddy.” I continued spinning my web of lies as I went along, putting on a Broadway performance of grief, silently hoping I wouldn’t get caught slipping in the details.
Gator’s eyes lowered to the table. “Why didn’t you call me? I woulda gone with you. You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.”
“I was so heartbroken, and I felt like I’d failed you. I planned to tell you when I got home, but when I got the
re and saw your note that you were gonna be out late, I lay down to take a nap. Then, when I woke up, I saw you on the news, and…well, here we are.”
Gator stared at me in silence, making me feel like I was on trial.
“Now I wish I had called you,” I said quickly. “Then maybe you wouldn’t be here now.”
Damn right I took the blame for him getting apprehended. I hoped if my deceitful explanation didn’t save my ass, sympathy and regret would.
“None of this is your fault, Diamond,” he said. “I shoulda been there for you. Yes, I’m disappointed, but everything happens for a reason.”
“We can try again,” I volunteered. “As soon as your home, I’m gonna give you a houseful of babies. I promise.”
I was exaggerating my ass off, but the smile on Gator’s face told me my lies were working as intended. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said sweetly.
The overweight guard standing watch over the visitation room made the announcement that it was time for us to say our goodbyes.
Gator stood and extended his arms to me.
“I love you,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I love you too.”
He gave me an innocent kiss on the lips, followed by a big squeeze. I was disappointed by the wimpy peck, but I understood that public displays of affection were not welcome there. Next, Gator pulled away, looking at me, and he kissed me again, this time with so much passion that he left my legs shaking and my panties moist.
Chapter 17
Throughout my husband’s incarceration, I spent a great deal of my time working out and kept my nose buried in books, just the distractions I needed to keep my hormones under control and my focus off my need for sexual gratification. I’d made a promise that I would never cheat on Gator again, and I’d managed to keep that promise, but I was tired of sleeping alone and anxiously awaiting my man’s return.
I had just completed a four-mile run on my treadmill and had worked up a thirst when I entered the kitchen and found Venetta leaning against the kitchen island, holding a broom in her hands, staring at the TV. “Good morning,” I greeted.
“Hey,” she said. She immediately pressed mute on the remote and redirected her attention to me.
“What is it?” I asked, concerned by the blank look on her face.
“Have you seen the news?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You know I try to avoid depression and death at all costs, and lately that’s all that’s ever on TV.” Sure, I loved to be as informed as the next individual, but it seemed the whole world had lost its damn mind as of late. From murders to robberies and constant stories of missing or violated children, it was enough to depress even the strongest of hearts. Considering everything my family was going through, I didn’t need to wallow in other people’s sorrows; we’d had enough of our own.
I walked over to the refrigerator, pulled the door open, and removed the glass pitcher of orange juice. As I set it down on the kitchen island, the volume on the TV slowly rose. I attempted to tune it out as I retrieved a glass from the cabinet and began filling it with juice.
“We now return to Lois Whitaker…”
“Tom, I’m standing outside the Madison County Courthouse, where sheriff’s deputies have announced one of the largest local drug busts in ten years. Detectives and the Tactical Response Unit have arrested twenty-five-year-old Jonah Washington of Huntsville on charges of manufacturing and intent to distribute a controlled substance. Washington is also charged with unlawful possession of a firearm, and sources tell us…”
I listened in horror as the reporter continued explaining that drug task force officers had also raided an apartment and storage facility in other parts of the city, confiscating a total approximately $550,000 in cash and thirty kilograms of cocaine.
“Do you know what this means?” Venetta asked, turning off the TV. “We’re screwed, Diamond. Those spots were Leon’s, every last one of them.”
I grabbed the cordless phone, jerking it from its cradle on the counter.
“Who are you calling?”
“Clint,” I said. “He needs to represent Jonah to see if they set bail.”
“Are you fucking crazy?” Venetta blurted, snatching the phone from my hand. “If you post Jonah’s bail, it’ll scream that he was working for Leon.”
“He was!”
“Yeah, but at this moment, they don’t know that,” she disputed, “and the only way they’ll find out is if Jonah runs his mouth or if you screw up.”
“He won’t do that…and how is my helping someone who’s a part of this family screwing up?”
“Maybe he won’t talk,” she said. “We don’t know what he’ll say to the cops if they threaten him with jail time, but I do know you can’t be associated with him right now. They’re looking for anything and everything they can find to keep Leon locked down. You go bouncing your ass down there posting bail, things are gonna get real ugly for Gator and for us. Jonah’s got plenty of friends and blood to handle his case. Right now, we have to handle ours.”
I didn’t want to argue with her, but every word she was saying was complete bullshit. Jonah had protected and saved my life, and now she expected me not to give a shit, not to return the favor when he needed help. No way! I would let Venetta have her moment, but I planned to address the subject with my husband at my earliest opportunity.
Chapter 18
An entire year and a half passed before Gator had his day in court. The first case on the docket for him involved the extortion and racketeering charges. The solid case the prosecution had attempted to build against him came tumbling down when evidence and witnesses mysteriously began to disappear. Even though it appeared my husband was a man standing alone, he was still feared. When it came to actually putting their asses on the line and looking eye to eye with Gator, those who’d so quickly flipped to State’s evidence were nowhere to be found . The charges were dismissed, and that gave me confidence that the kidnapping and conspiracy to commit murder charges would also be dropped.
Less than a month after the first case was thrown out, we were back in court to listen to the testimony of the kidnapped woman and other witnesses. Octavia, who looked to be at least six months pregnant, was an enticing female with a brown-sugar complexion, jet-black, wavy hair, and pretty fuck-me, honey-brown eyes. She was clearly intelligent and articulate, but she could also let the ghetto flow when she needed to. Under different circumstances, and if she hadn’t been knocked up, we probably could have been lovers or friends, but my husband had fucked that up by abducting the woman in the first place on his quest for vengeance.
When Octavia gave her testimony, something about the details made my heart ache a little for her. I knew who I was there for and whose side I was on, but I still felt remorse for the things she’d endured. She told the jury that Gator’s boys had snatched her right in front of her daughter, leaving her baby girl alone in her vehicle in a parking lot. Her voice grew shaky when she described how she felt when she thought she’d never be able to kiss or touch her baby again. “My heart ached when I learned that they planned to murder my husband,” she said in a near whimper.
Her husband, Damon, was a caramel-skinned brother with sculptured facial features, just as sexy as his wife and dressed to a tee in a designer suit. He walked with a swagger that screamed that he had money. When he took the stand, his eyes immediately fell on Gator, where they stayed throughout his testimony.
The reaction I saw on the juror’s faces when the couple testified made me nervous and had me wondering if Clint really had the case in the bag like he claimed he did. Clint’s defense was simple and sweet: Gator had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The attorney placed all the blame on Terrance for the crimes that had taken place. Several character witnesses, including Erica from Divaz and Big Boy from Brother’s Groceries, spoke eloquently about how Gator had helped save their nearly drowning businesses and would do anything to help his fellow man. The defense presente
d on behalf of my husband made him look and sound like a saint on Earth, awaiting his crown and place amongst the gods.
After three days of proceedings and only six hours of jury deliberations, I sat behind my husband with my hands folded together and my heart thumping loudly in my chest, listening as the judge asked the jury forewoman if they had reached a verdict.
“We have, Your Honor,” the forewoman spoke.
I nonchalantly looked across the room at Damon and Octavia. He was sitting with his arms wrapped around his wife’s shoulders in a public display of affection and support; I envied them. Octavia’s father was with them, as well as a woman I assumed to be her mother. In that brief moment, I wished my own family was there to support me. Even after my husband’s very public arrest, my mother still hadn’t reached out to me, and I didn’t see any point in bothering a woman who didn’t want to be bothered. Still, I wondered, Isn’t there something in the Mommy Handbook that even if you disapprove of their decisions, you’re supposed to stand by your children until death? If not, there damn well should be.
Randall had offered to accompany me at the trial. I refused his offer, but I appreciated the fact that he’d actually made an effort.
Venetta chose to avoid the trial because she didn’t want to hear the ugly details of our husbands’ dirty deeds. “I wanna remember Terrance how he was those last few days,” she said, “happy…and good.”
I respected her decision, but deep down, I thought it was bullshit, that she was being a coward. She didn’t want to hear the truth that, although her husband had not acted alone, he’d clearly lost his damn mind in the process and snapped.
I pulled my eyes from the Whitmores and focused on my husband, who was standing with his back straight and his head held high, like the king I knew he was.
“On the charge of kidnapping,” the jury forewoman began, “we, the jury, find the defendant guilty.”
I cut my eyes at the woman, hoping I’d heard her incorrectly.
She continued, “On the charge of conspiracy to commit murder, guilty.”