“Damn, there are a lot of people out there,” I absentmindedly spoke, staring at the crowd through the dark tints of the SUV that we were in. We had rolled up in front of the courthouse and the crowd was huge. I sucked in a breath, feeling a little anxious about having to walk through. Even with security, the thought of it was intimidating.
“Yeah...” Ink agreed, and I turned towards him. He’d been quiet the whole morning and completely silent the entire way there until now. The most I had heard him speak was when he was kissing Tamiyah goodbye.
Regardless to which way things went, he would see her again and be able to handle his affairs before he was made to serve time, if it came to that. Per Ink’s request, Dyano was able to work it out that he would have a few weeks between his sentence date and when he’d have to report to serve time so that he could tie up any loose ends regarding custody of his daughter and his business.
With the fate of one child weighing heavily on his mind, the last thing I wanted was to give him another one to worry about it. I was only a little over three months pregnant and, thankfully, not showing much at all outside of the tiny bulge that Ink referred to as my ‘baby fat.’ He didn’t know how accurate that was. I couldn’t wait until the trial was over so that I could give him the news I’d been waiting to share. It had been so hard to keep it in that he was going to be a father again.
“Dyano said to wait here until he comes to get us. He said he would text my phone when he was on the way.”
Ink nodded and then caught my eyes, cradling them in his. I felt my cheeks go warm.
“Are you okay to walk in with me?”
I gave him a pressed smile and nodded before slipping my hand into his.
“Of course. I’m by your side the entire way.”
Lifting my hand, he pressed the back of it against his lips and gave me a sweet kiss.
“You’ve been there for me in a way that no one else has ever been,” he whispered against my skin before staring into my face. The emotions inside of him were so raw and intense that I could feel them as well.
“I love you in a way that I’ve never loved any other woman and, somehow, I know that I never will love any woman quite the same. I can’t possibly ask you to put your life on hold for me if this shit goes wrong but I do want you to know that, regardless to what happens, I will always be there for you in any way that I can. I’ll never let another woman come before you or take your place. I love you, Sage.”
He leaned over and pressed his lips against mine, giving me such a gentle kiss so packed full of love that it brought tears to my eyes. They rolled down my cheeks as he deepened our embrace, kneading my ass with his hands and gripping my thighs. When he moved between my thighs, I didn’t resist to spread my legs so that he could slip a few fingers into my panties.
My pussy gushed honey for him. Our tongues were intertwined as he slipped first one finger, then another into my hole, using his thumb to massage my clit. The partition was up and the space was soundproof so I didn’t think twice about moaning out my pure ecstasy when he softly pinched my nub.
“I gotta taste her. I need her right now.”
His voice was raw, almost pleading. There was no way I could tell him no.
With a press of a button, he made a secondary shield rise to cover the windows, blocking us off from everything happening outside. The tints were too dark for them to see in but the shield made it so that we couldn’t see out. The chaos outside was immediately a non-factor and all we had to focus on was each other.
Ink pressed me back and spread my legs as he lowered down to his knees and positioned his face in front of my mound. He was staring at it hungrily, as if in anticipation, and I could feel his hot breath on my clit. It swelled and throbbed as I waited for what was going to come next.
Almost as if he were savoring the moment, Ink slowing dipped his head and sucked the center. My back arched and I yelped out a scream as he increasingly became rougher and more savage. The more aggressive he got, the more I fed him my pussy, trying to satisfy his hunger. He sucked and expertly ran his tongue through my folds, bringing me to a climax. I screamed through gnashed teeth when he suckled the spot that brought me over the edge. My river flowed and he rode the wave of it with the tip of his tongue, thrashing against my sensitive clit until I calmed down.
“Now I’m ready for whatever,” he said with a grin, licking his lips. I fixed my clothes and used a wet wipe to clean as much as I could between my legs. When Ink handed it to me along with a small bag to dispose of it, I wondered for a quick moment if I’d been set up.
“Did you plan to do this before going in?”
A look of mischief crossed over his face. “Nah, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
With perfect timing, Dyano sent me a text and then followed up with a call.
“I’m on the way now. I’ve got security with me but be ready to move quickly and make sure to remind Ink to let me do all of the talking,” he said. I cut my eyes to Ink before answering. He had his eyes closed and his head back, lying on the headrest.
“Okay. We’ll be ready when you get here.”
32
Ink
* * *
I never was the type of nigga to do drugs, not even weed.
It was a rule in the game that you never got high on your own supply and I’d always held fast to that. In my time on the streets, I saw a lot of people who were balling self-destruct because they started using their own shit. For that reason, I vowed not to be one of them. I was a businessman who didn’t even try out my own product. It was virtually unheard of, but I’d made my own path to success.
I said all that to say that then was the first time in my life that I wished I were high. It wasn’t my first time sitting in a courthouse so I understood how it all went down, but that didn’t make the process any easier. There was a whirlwind of noise, people, and chaos outside that Sage and I had to fight through to make it in. Hand in hand, we walked, surrounded by security, up the steps leading to the courthouse doors. Reporters yelled questions above the sound of the protesters and fans who were either shouting for my prosecution or for my defense.
With my head down, I did as Dyano said and made sure not to make eye contact with anyone. By then, I knew how the click of a camera’s lens at the right moment could catch me making a face that could easily become the next headline. Keeping my head down made it less likely they would get a shot of the sour expression I was making as I heard their questions.
The inside of the courtroom was packed to max capacity. I wanted the proceedings to be private but Dyano somehow thought the extra publicity would work in my favor.
“All rise for the Honorable Judge Carmichael, presiding,” the bailiff announced, immediately gathering everyone’s attention.
We all stood to our feet as the judge, an older Black man with a bald head and salt-and-pepper beard, walked in. He was tall and muscular with broad shoulders. Even in his old age, you could see that he was a man of real strength.
“Thank you. Everyone but the jury may have a seat. Bailiff Johnson, please swear in the jury.”
“Yes, your honor,” the bailiff said and moved to do just that.
The constant churr of chatter that had been ongoing since the moment I’d walked into the room all of a sudden died down to near silence. I took a quick look around at everyone who was either waiting intently, scribbling something on a notepad, or staring back at me, until my eyes found Sage’s. She gave me a calming smile and I returned her show of love with a subtle nod. Some ways behind her, I caught a glimpse of Indie and Kale sitting together. It was odd seeing them. The last time I spoke to Indie was when we argued at the shop and I hadn’t seen or heard from Kale since he dropped Tamiyah off at my house. We weren’t on the best of terms, so I really hadn’t expected them to come.
“Members of the jury,” Judge Carmichael began after the bailiff finished swearing them in. “Your duty will be to determine whether the defendant is guilty or no
t guilty based only on the facts and the evidence provided in this case. The prosecution has the burden of proving the guilt of the defendant beyond a reasonable doubt.”
He paused for a moment to let that sink in. On the other end, Attorney Stanson looked more than pissed at the judge’s emphasis on that.
“This burden remains on the prosecution throughout the trial. The prosecution must prove that a crime was committed and that the defendant is the one who committed the crime. If you are not completely satisfied of the defendant’s guilt to that extent, then reasonable doubt exists, and the defendant must be found not guilty.”
A ripple-effect of sound erupted throughout the room as people shifted, rustled papers, and adjusted their equipment. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Dyano who seemed especially chill as he sat by my side. His confidence was on point, but I didn’t see where it came from. Since he hadn’t shared much about his angle of defense, I felt like I was going in blind.
“Trust him,” Sage had told me when I told her how frustrated I was at his lack of sharing information. “He doesn’t share because he’s confident that he has enough to prove you’re innocent. You should be worried if he was asking a lot of questions. That would mean he’s searching. You don’t want him to have to search.”
“Is the prosecution ready?” Judge Carmichael asked.
“Yes, your honor,” Stanson stood and replied. The judge nodded as he took his seat and then turned to Dyano.
“Is the defense ready?”
Dyano nodded and then stood to his feet.
“Yes, your honor but, before we get started, I want to make it known that my office discovered that the prosecution was withholding evidence.”
Murmurs erupted around the courtroom. My brows jumped; I was shocked as well.
“What?” Stanson snapped. “That’s preposterous! Judge, I—”
Judge Carmichael banged his gavel and Stanson’s mouth snapped shut. With a brief nod at Dyano to continue, he folded his hands and waited to hear the rest.
“I was given a statement here by a source that I will not name at the moment—” He waved a stack of papers in the air. “—stating that another set of fingerprints, bloody, was found at the scene of the crime. I was told that those prints didn’t match the defendant or the victim. My source said that his discovery was deemed unimportant.”
“What!” Stanson piped up again. “Lies! We were not aware of any relevant fingerprints outside of the victim’s left at the scene of the crime.”
“Well, there it is.” Dyano chuckled sarcastically. “He found them; he just didn’t find them relevant.”
“That is not true!”
What in the hell was going on? I was sitting at the defense table as confused as everybody else in the room. The judge looked over the thick black frame of his glasses and peered first at Stanson before turning back to Dyano. Not a single sound was heard as we all waited on edge for what would be said next.
“Mr. Dyano, is this witness prepared to testify to the declarations you have stated today?”
He nodded his head. “Yes, your honor. He would like to have his identity hidden, if possible, because he fears retaliation. However, he’s prepared to give you his testimony. He also has photos to prove his claims.”
From there Carmichael nodded and then cut his eyes to Stanson, a flash of annoyance showing clearly on his face.
“Is there anything else that your team may have forgotten or neglected to include in discovery?”
Stanson’s cheeks were slightly red when he muttered an unenthused, “No, your honor,” and took his seat. There was some chatter between the judge and the bailiff before he turned around to address the prosecution again.
“You may begin your opening arguments.”
Stanson stood, his body tight and his frustration vividly apparent. “Thank you, your honor.”
“You didn’t tell me about the fingerprints,” I whispered to Dyano as Stanson began to gather his materials to prepare his speech.
“The least you know, the better you’ll be.”
I squinted at him, wondering what the hell he meant by that and why he seemed reluctant to look at me. I decided to let it go and address it later.
Stanson made his opening argument and, though I tried to remain calm, I began to get heated before he was even halfway through. There was nothing new coming from him, I’d heard it all and so had most of the people in the room, thanks to his constant interviews and briefings with the press. However, watching him in person as he spoke and jabbed his fat ass fingers in my direction, incensed me.
“He’s putting on for the cameras,” Dyano whispered at one point. “Don’t get upset; it’s all a show. But you see how Carmichael is looking. He knows it and he doesn’t like it.”
I glanced over at the judge and the expression on his face was almost comical as he watched Stanson put on a performance. He was watching with his head resting on his hand and his eyes clouded with what seemed like an equal dose of boredom and annoyance. In fact, it looked like he might have been on the verge of falling asleep until it was time for Dyano to begin his opening argument.
“Wonderful citizens of Atlanta and devoted members of the jury, I thank you for your time today. It’s a shame that you have to spend these precious moments listening to us argue the details of this witch-hunt that has been launched against my client.” Dyano turned and held his hand out to me for a moment before continuing. The jurors’ eyes followed his hand and I watched them all scrutinize my face; more than a few expressions appeared sympathetic to my cause. When I saw the subtle smirk on his face, I realized he saw them as well.
“As Judge Carmichael has been gracious enough to remind us, the prosecution must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Mr. Richardson is responsible for the murder of his wife. However, the only evidence they can bring to you to support that is circumstantial. My client is a loving father, and he was a devoted husband until the couple decided to part ways, only living together to be parents to their only child. He lives his life in the public eye and has managed to remain free of any legal issues or scandal until this point.”
The sound of camera shutters clicking was the only other sound in the room. The judge had allowed one photographer in the room and, from the sound of it, he was working overtime to get all the shots that he possibly could.
“During this trial, you will be presented with evidence showing that, not only is my client innocent, but he is actually a victim as well. Tami, his former love and his child’s mother, was senselessly murdered and taken away from their family, leaving his daughter without a mother and him without a friend. Not only this, but the fact that Tami was murdered after telling him that she was a few weeks pregnant with their child, one which would have been Mr. Richardson’s biological child, further shows how much he’s lost.”
What?
I had to duck my head to hide my frown. What the hell was Dyano getting at? Tami hadn’t told me shit about being pregnant and, even if she was, it damn sure wasn’t my kid. I hadn’t touched her in over six months. Keeping my head low, I clasped my hands together on top of the table as he continued.
“The defendant didn’t kill Mrs. Richardson. He’s not that type of man. However, as this case draws on, you’ll find that there is, in fact, someone else who had reason and motive to want Mrs. Richardson dead. Someone who loved her for a very long time and had been hoping that she would leave her husband to be with him. Someone who, as evidence will prove, was also present the night when Mrs. Richardson was killed. Thank you.”
Dyano returned to his seat as I fought to keep myself in check. My mind was reeling with all kinds of questions but beyond anything else I felt, there was an immense amount of anger. I had said that this was not the kind of defense I wanted. I wasn’t no snitch and there was no way that I could blame Kale for something he didn’t do.
Stanson brought on his first witness, Officer Louis, who was first on the scene at the motel. Louis answered each question wit
h confidence and an obvious bias against me, as Dyano had already warned me that he would. At some point, I turned around to check on Sage, but she was gone.
My eyes instead fell on Indie, who caught me looking. She gave me a small smile and then wiggled her fingers in a half-wave. I hadn’t seen her since the day we argued at the shop but she was there to show her support.
“Defense, you may cross.”
“Thank you, your honor.”
Buttoning his jacket, Dyano stood, looking completely calm and in control. He was expertly dressed in a custom-made suit that easily cost a grip and his short fade and manicured beard were so on point that I halfway wanted to ask him who his barber was.
“Officer Louis, according to your report, the motel where Mrs. Richardson was found is known for… how should I say this… being used for many illegal activities?”
The officer nodded. “Yes, it has been known to be a hot spot for those things.”
“Things like what?” Dyano pressed.
“Um, well, prostitution, drugs—both sales and use—primarily. However, Mrs. Richardson did not have drugs in her system at the time of death.”
“Correct but she was a drug user in the past?”
“We saw some drug residue as well as drug paraphernalia in the room. I can’t say for sure whether it belonged to her.”
“So there was evidence that someone other than Mrs. Richardson had been staying there?”
The officer paused and allowed his eyes to travel upwards as he thought. “There was evidence that she may not have always been alone in the room. However, being that it was a motel, it’s hard to say exactly.”
“Because the room wasn’t very clean,” Dyano stated. “Which means, you didn’t have a very clean crime scene to work with from the beginning. Could this be why you missed the bloody fingerprints that didn’t belong to the defendant or Mrs. Richardson?”
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