“Now the amount of pills that she was found to be guilty of having in her possession was clearly at felony levels. And although the defendant has no criminal record, the guidelines have several interpretations for sentencing at my discretion. And mine tells me at least twelve to eighteen months behind bars should be a good lesson. Mrs. Eubanks wants to be what the streets call a rider, or be into thug life, well, she should be right at home in a cell.”
“Oh, no. Oh, my God,” Sasha’s sister cried out in disbelief, having to be comforted by Kat.
The judge looked over his glasses at the source of the outburst. Giving Regina and Kat a stern look before continuing, he motioned his head for the second bailiff standing in the rear to be on alert. “Now, as I was saying, the defendant is to be immediately taken into custody. She is to be held in the Wayne County Jail until such time as she is transferred to one of the women’s prisons located here in Michigan to start serving her sentence. Bailiff.” The judge signaled for him to escort Sasha out.
“I’m sorry. What did he say? What happened? I thought you said I was getting probation, that I would be home by lunch.” She panicked, snatching her arm back from the bailiff’s loose grip while still yelling at her lawyer. “Why did he say I was going to jail? Why did he say it? Please, Judge, listen, please. But I’m pregnant. I can’t go to jail. I can’t.”
“Well, maybe that husband of yours, the infamous Mario Eubanks who seems to be too busy to grace us with his presence today, will find time to raise his child until you are free to assist.”
“Please, Your Honor, please,” Sasha screamed out as she could no longer hold the urine that trickled down her leg and into the side of her shoe.
“Good luck to you, Mrs. Eubanks. Court adjourned.”
The judge was unmoved by Sasha’s theatrics. He ignored the strong-smelling piss puddle that had formed on the courtroom floor. Over the years he’d seen plenty of defendants show out at sentencing and have to be restrained, so Mrs. Eubanks having a fit meant nothing. Many times the people who break the law so nonchalantly are the ones who scream injustice the loudest when punished.
CHAPTER THREE
From the very moment he’d heard the cops hit the front door and rush inside, Mario knew he was going to get knocked. His wife had told him repeatedly to clean house and not bring his work, a felony waiting to happen, home. But he didn’t listen. Mario never did. He didn’t trust anyone in the streets with his money or pills. Not in the mood to go back to jail, he grew more annoyed at his sometimes forgetful memory.
With small beads of perspiration in each crease of his forehead, he prayed he’d put the small duffle bag back in its hiding place, up in the far left corner ceiling tile, but he wasn’t sure. His people had just called him, telling him they had a hookup he might want to check out. So he’d run upstairs and he was just about to get undressed and get in the shower when: boom.
Here the taskforce came, search warrant in hand. The first cop to enter his bedroom was met with a struggle. Mario wasn’t going back to jail without a fight, so the officer pointing his gun at him mattered none. Mario went for it, knocking the pistol out of his hand. Before he could attempt to swing or try to go for the gun, a second officer entered the bedroom, tackling him off his feet. Brand new Jordans in the air, shirt torn, Mario took more than a few punches before giving up.
Marched into the living room, Mario was pissed seeing his girl in tears, knowing it was partially his fault. Although he knew he wasn’t the best man he could be to her, he still didn’t like to see her hurt. It was like he was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One day he couldn’t live without Sasha and he was thankful for all she did to hold him down each time he was locked up; the next day he was disgusted to even see her face, knowing all she was going to do was nag him half to death. Watching the officers berate her made him buck to get out of the plastic ties. He wanted nothing more than to protect her. Yet when his stash was discovered and the threat of doing hard time loomed over his head, Mario’s beloved wife was first in line to be his Get Out of Jail Free card.
After both being arrested, Sasha had his back like he assumed she would no sooner than she touched back down. After a hot minute or two of Mario taking her on a guilt trip of what her future would be like without him in her or their baby’s life, his pregnant wife folded. Mario had won another victory over her common sense. Sasha would stand tall and eat the charges just as he asked. Crazy in love, his good girl had done a lot of things since they’d been together to prove her devotion, much to the dislike of her family, especially her sister: cars in her name he’d crashed, credit cards he’d run up, random females texting his cell, and him slapping her around when he’d be drunk or high off the pills he was selling. Mario had no off button or filter to his behavior. As much as he tried to do right by Sasha, the streets and everything that came with running in them always seemed to be calling him. He couldn’t seem to help himself.
Mario had been out of county lockup no more than twenty minutes when he had Sasha drop him off on the block. The more she protested, the more he tried to convince her he would only be a short time collecting what was due him. Mario claimed one of his boys had been working a bag for him and was ready to cash him out. Exhausted going word for word, she pulled the car over near the curb demanding he get out as soon as possible. With a one-track mind on getting money, Mario didn’t let that brief threat of parole violation he’d just avoided thanks to his wife slow his hustle down. He was going to live life fast, reckless, and with no regard to the next man’s problems, even Sasha’s.
* * *
“Okay, six is the point.” Mario snatched the dice up off the ground. After tossing a couple more twenties onto the pile of money, he grinned, shaking up the ivory-colored cubed pair. Skeeting a stream of spit through the side of his clenched teeth, he knew he was about to hit another lick. He’d been on the top for almost thirty minutes straight: a new hood record. Crapping out was not in his vocabulary or mindset.
After a few more shit-talking rolls, Mario and the guys who were riding with him celebrated. Counting his portion of the winnings, he was interrupted by his cell vibrating yet again. In between the back-to-back text messages he was receiving from Sasha, he was amazed her bugaboo ass hadn’t broken his winning streak mojo. He knew what she wanted without even bothering to read another word or answer his line.
Caught up in the dice game, Mario would stay out all night if he was in his zone whether he was winning or losing. The more his cell jumped the angrier he got. He knew Sasha had court in a few hours. He knew it was his fault his pregnant wife was going to have a criminal record and probably would have to pick up trash on the side of the road as an added punishment. Mario tried to pretend he cared since that fateful afternoon the police violated their home but, in reality, he didn’t. He had dodged the bullet, so to speak. And that was all that really mattered. So what if Sasha was embarrassed in front of her neighbors every time she stepped foot outside? Big deal if her parents, family, and friends warned her she’d be shunned if she kept standing by Mario. He was out for himself, and his wife would have to play her position with him or run the risk of having no position to play at all.
“Damn, girl, why in the fuck you keep getting at me like you crazy?”
“I’m sorry, excuse me.” Sasha’s tone was filled with arrogance and rightly so.
“Look, don’t start with all that uppity tone and ‘I’m sorry, excuse me’ bullshit with me. I ain’t in the zone for it. I’m out here trying to get this money and you all on a nigga’s dick, ol’ nagging ass.”
“Mario, the dang sun is almost up. I’ve been calling and texting you all night. Do you know what today is?” Sasha sarcastically barked at her husband.
“Yeah, I know what today is. So? And? I mean, what you want me to do about it? The lawyer said the whole thang was gonna be one, two, three, and the shit will be over, in and out.”
Second-guessing her decision of not just letting Mario go back to jail, Sasha took a deep
breath before getting even more heated. “Okay, and so what if it is gonna be in and out? You don’t think I want my husband to be by my side just for moral support if nothing else?”
“Man, that’s what the lawyer is getting paid for: moral support,” he announced, eager to get back in the game. “Besides, take one of your sisters or that nosey-ass best friend of yours who’s always talking shit and trying to throw salt in a playa’s game. I know they ain’t doing shit but watching reruns of Oprah, taking notes on how to hate a man even more.”
“Mario, please don’t start with me about them; please, not now. I can’t take all that on my plate, too. My head and stomach has been bothering me all night. I guess I’m nervous or scared or something. I don’t know. But whatever, bae. So just tell me, are you coming home to get dressed and go with me to court or not?”
Mario’s split personality was attempting to get out. He’d heard the sound of desperation and fear in Sasha’s voice and he wanted to make everything all good like any normal husband would, especially considering the situation. With enough money won in his pocket to eat steak, lobster, and crab for a week straight, Mario could walk away and hold his head high with bragging rights until the next game. Wanting to do the right thing, he was seconds away from telling his loyal wife he was on the way home and she should lay his clothes out on the bed.
Sadly, just as he parted his lips to say those words he knew Sasha wanted to hear, a few of the fellas turned the corner, pulling up. Mario knew they had money and he couldn’t resist the urge to try to break their pockets. “Umm, hey listen, just put my clothes on the bed. I might be running late, but court never starts on time.”
“But, Mario,” she whined, feeling another break in her already damaged heart.
“I gotcha, girl. We good. I’ll be there.”
* * *
It was nearing eleven when Mario’s cell rang again. Naturally, he assumed it was Sasha having returned home from court, pissed. He knew he was going to be in the doghouse with his wife for what he’d done, or didn’t do. The game had gotten so intense he couldn’t break away from it no matter how much he wanted to. There was way too much money on the floor to bounce.
She’ll be all right. I ain’t even gonna trip. I’ll make it up later. Mario planned to stop by the flea market and grab Sasha a couple of bootleg purses, and a Snickers and a red soda from the store. In past experiences with fucking over her emotions, Mario knew that she couldn’t stay mad at him long. So he’d bless her with her favorites and wait it out. Not downplaying the disrespect and disregard he’d shown Sasha today by not showing up to be by her side in the shit storm he’d created, Mario knew this wait would be longer than the others. Unfortunately, he had no idea how long.
Not bothering to take his cell out his pocket, Mario made his moves and went home to take his verbal lumps from the wife. Bags in hand, he was relieved when he didn’t see her car in the driveway. Whew, okay, she ain’t here waiting behind the door with a frying pan or a butcher knife. With no shame for all the commotion he’d caused on the block since moving there, Mario arrogantly and dryly spoke to his elderly neighbors, daring them to act as if they couldn’t speak back.
Inside the house, he placed the items on the dining room table so Sasha would see them when she first walked in. Wanting to just get it over with, he finally decided to return her calls. Falling back on the couch, Mario kicked his legs up, allowing his head to be cradled by the multicolored pillows. What the fuck? All these calls is from Regina. What her wild ass wants? Double tapping her name, Mario waited all of ten seconds before his sister-in-law answered. “Hey, girl, what up, doe? What it do?”
“What up, doe? Nigga, please,” she barked like a drill sergeant trying to get his point across. “Don’t ‘what up, doe’ me like it’s all good. Where the hell your ass was at when my sister was getting locked up this damn morning? Why you wasn’t there? Or better yet why you let her get fucked around from jump?”
Mario sat straight up. Maybe he wasn’t hearing correctly. He couldn’t be. He switched his cell to the other ear. To him it sounded like Regina’s normally annoying voice said Sasha was locked up. But he knew that couldn’t be the case. The lawyer had pretty much assured them that with her having no past contact with the law it was open and shut. “Whoa, whoa, hold up. Slow down, girl. What you say? Stop playing. Where the fuck is Sasha ass at?”
Regina, enraged, was in her feelings, as well she should have been. She not once let up on her justified rant. “You know where she is: locked the fuck up behind being so stupid. Her ass gotta do at least twelve to eighteen months for some shit you got her into.” Her voice grew louder with each passing word she spoke about her little sister. “She’s pregnant, you asshole. You know what that damn time fucking means? Do you? It means that baby gonna be born behind fucking bars, in damn jail. I swear to God you ain’t about shit. Nigga, you all kinds of fucked up for this here bullshit!”
Now on his feet, Mario paced the floor, listening to Regina go off on him. Still in somewhat denial of what she said, he begged her to just slow down and calm down. He wanted her to tell him everything that happened at court with his wife. “Listen, Regina, just tell me what the hell popped off. The lawyer said they had the plea agreement all worked out.”
“Well, if that was the damn case, somebody showl forgot to tell that judge that bullshit. ’Cause he banged my sister, hard.” Still very much heated, she didn’t know how she’d break the news to her elderly parents. Their last-born would be under the jurisdiction of the State of Michigan’s prison system for some time to come. In the meantime, Regina explained to Mario word for word, blow by blow what happened at the court proceedings that he should have been the star of in the first place.
Ending the angrily charged conversation with his sister-in-law, Mario tried to contact the lawyer but was told he’d be out of the office for the rest of the day. Although Regina had just told him what happened to Sasha, he wanted to hear it from another reliable source. Maybe it wasn’t two years; maybe she’d misunderstood and his wife would come bopping through the front door singing some damn Beyoncé or Mary J. song that she’d been blasting on the radio. Maybe she’d just gone shopping to get her mind off of all the bullshit he’d forced her to go through for the past month or so. Yeah, maybe that was it, he reasoned, dialing the courthouse for information.
“Yes, I need to know the status of Sasha Eubanks.” Mario prayed this was no more than an awful joke his wife and her sister were playing on him to teach him a lesson for leaving Sasha hanging earlier. “Yes, E-u-b-a-n-k-s, Eubanks. She was supposed to be sentenced at nine this morning in Judge Raymond’s courtroom. Was it rescheduled or something? This is her husband.”
CHAPTER FOUR
It’d been a solid week since the judge had changed Sasha’s life. The harsh reality that she was not coming home for an extended amount of time was starting to set in. Feeling like an animal trapped in a small box, she’d been forced to sleep on the floor on a pallet with one sheet and one blanket. The fact that she was with child meant nothing to them, just as it meant nothing to the judge. Her back aching or the need for extra food was just another thing on the long list of discomforts she’d dumbly chosen when “standing by her man.” The overcrowding in the county jail was against regulations put in place by the federal government, but from the moment Sasha Eubanks was taken into custody all her civil rights flew out the window. She was just another prisoner waiting to get transferred to the penitentiary that would soon become her home for the next twelve months, at least.
“Hey, girl, what you in here for?” asked the overly thick female who slept in one of the few decent bunks.
“Who, me?” Sasha glanced up from the floor wishing she were back home in her pillow-top king-sized bed.
“Yeah, you, ladybug. Why you up in here? You look way too cute to be up here in the hot son of a bitch.”
Sasha overlooked the fact that she was obviously being hit on. She had been basically ignored since gett
ing brought up to the all-women inmate floor and she welcomed what she believed to be a friendly face. “They said I had some pills and some drug money, but they’re wrong.”
“They said,” she sarcastically flipped out while sizing Sasha up. “Either you had some pills and that cash or you didn’t. What the fuck? You bitches kill me coming all up in here and behind the wall acting like y’all innocent. Y’all be some fake wannabe pussies wanting to get fucked. So is that it, baby doll? You wanna get fucked?”
Sasha was speechless. She blankly stared at the girl, not knowing what to do or say next. A few of the other seasoned inmates couldn’t hold their laughter. Many of them had watched the exact same thing pop off day after day in the overcrowded unit. They knew that the ballsy dyke was about to put her beast hand down on another newbie to the system. It wasn’t their business to play bodyguard, so each turned a blind eye to what was sure to come next. Some were only there for a short time and they didn’t need or want any additional trouble.
Shockingly, before Sasha knew what was happening next, the girl had stood up from her bunk. With ill intentions she towered over Sasha, tugging at her crotch area as if she had a dick. Much too light to fight and definitely too thin to win, Mario’s wife looked to the other prisoners for assistance, but unfortunately she found none.
“Look, I don’t know if you think I’m that way, but I’m not.”
“Well, today your pretty ass is.” Reaching down for Sasha’s head, the determined dyke grinned knowing she was close to turning another straight female out.
Seconds away from being be sexually assaulted, one of the guards came to the cell gate, saving Sasha. “Hey, Eubanks, you have a visit. Your lawyer is here.”
* * *
“The lawyer just left and things are all bad. I thought you said this wasn’t gonna happen. You told me since I didn’t have a record I wasn’t gonna get in trouble. Why you lie to me like that? Huh? That’s messed up, Mario, for real.”
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