Money & Love Don't Mix

by Ace Gucciano

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  Slick and several other inmates from his floor were escorted downstairs to the holding cell where they remained until their names were called to get handcuffed, shackled, and then aboard the bus that would transport them to the courthouse.

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  After intimidating Trigga, Trouble left the cell and paced the day room floor mean mugging everybody that looked his way, hoping someone would say sumthin’ out the way or disrespectful to him so he could send a message to the entire dorm—This ain't what y’all motherfuckers want! By beating the shit out whoever had sumthin to say. Plus with all the jealousy and hostility that was going on towards him he knew that’ll be the perfect way to get his respect.

  But then he put his ill feelings to rest moments later when a transporting officer came in the dorm shouting.

  “DAUNTE JONES LET’S ROLL, YOU GOT MAGISTRATE COURT THIS

  MORNING.”

  Twenty minutes later, Trouble and the officers finally made their way to the holding cell after picking up a few more inmates along the way. And as soon as they unlocked the cell door to let them in all you could hear was a bunch of noise and chaos. Then Trouble stepped in and looked around the crowded holding cell for somewhere to sit, but it wasn’t any. With that being the case he posted up with his back against the wall, as he started going in a trance, stressing asking himself, why da’ fuck I had to go wit dem niggaz on dat lick? But already had the answered to his on question. At that moment, he began to feel as if he was all alone in the world. In addition, he didn’t have a clue where any of his homeboys were.

  As his mind stayed in deep thought he began shaking his head, because he figured that everything turning out the way it did it was only the punishment for the fucked up choices he made just coming home from prison. Moments later the cells door came opened and one of the transporting officers stepped in and started calling names. Trouble was still in a daze, as the first load of inmates who were called for court got handcuffed, shackled and made their way out the door to board the transfer bus. The holding cell thinned out tremendously and Slick, who was seated the entire time got up to stretch. While stretching he looked to his left, then to his right where he said, “Oh, shit!” Stunned by seeing his homeboy Trouble.

  “Trouble…Trouble!” Slick uttered moving closer to him, but could tell Trouble was in a daze when he never responded. He then made his way through the crowd of inmates, stepped over to Trouble and pat him on his arm.

  “Oh, Shit…what’s good my nigga?!” Trouble inquired after he was caught off guard, surprised to see Slick.

  “Shit, I’m good playboy. What’s up wit you?” Slick replied giving him some dap and a hug, since he was glad to see his homeboy, “I saw dat shit on da’ news playboy…How da’ fuck y’all end up in a high-speed chase?!”

  “My nigga I really don’t even know where to being but Maniac and Dre ran up behind dem muhfuckas on dey way in da’ crib, drew down, and forced dey way in.”

  “So, what happened next?” He eagerly wondered why Trouble paused, he then looked Slick in the eyes, shook his head and told him, “All hell broke loose my nigga! Dre held it down on his end, but da’ muhfucka Maniac snatched up yanked away and tried to run in a room so he shot em’…he shot em’ twice bruh! So you already know at dat point we had to hurry up and get what we could get and get da’ fuck on…We ended up leaving wit two duffle bags dat had like a hundred fifty racks and a few bricks, but by da’ time dey searched da’ crib, found da’ shit, and came out damn near da’ whole hood was either on their porch or looking out da’ window tryna see who da’ hell was shooting.”

  “Did dey eva’ see?”

  “Who, folks in da’ hood, hell yeah my nigga!! Shit dem niggaz came running back to da’ car wit two duffel bags, and da’ only thang on my mind was getting’ da’ fuck on fo’ da’ folks got there. So soon as dey hoped in, I mashed da’ gas all da’ way out da’ hood…but guess what happened?”

  “What?!”

  “Time I turned out da’ hood and pulled up to dat first red light on da’ corner, da’ light turned yellow on me, but since we was already going bout sixty it wasn’t no sense in stoppin’ so I kept going…and mann as soon as I ran dat muhfucka I passed two Clayton County police cars.”

  “Damn playboy, dey prolly was on the way my nigga, but once I ran dat light dem muhfuckas bust a u-turn and got behind us.”

  “Fo real?? I was wondering how da’ hell y’all got fucked up, cause when I saw da’ shit on the news, I could tell you wrecked da’ car but I ain’t know what exactly happened. So I called dem niggaz but dey was all paranoid and shit like dey phones was being monitored or some’ shit.”

  “Dey prolly shook my nigga you know how dat shit be.”

  “Shook fo’ what, dey know you ain’t boutta say shit…hell if anything you should be da’ one shook.” Slick angrily stressed as he shook his head, blown by the fact that Trouble had just came home from doing a long bid and was on his way back. “Damn! I wish I was out there you wouldn’t have had to do dat shit playboy! What made you change ya’ mind bout working?”

  “My nigga I tried and tried, putting in application after application. But it’s like a muhfucka ain’t really tryna let you work in dey establishment once dey find out you been convicted of a felony.” He paused as they both glanced over at two inmates about to fight. “But on da’ real, I got tired of bustin my ass getting up early erry’ other day puttin’ in apps and showin dem muhfuckas I’m willin to work, fuck dat my nigga, I needed paper right then and there.”

  “I hear what you sayin Trouble, but you ain’t been home long enough to see fo’ yo’self what all is going on in da’ hood. You did a decade playboy erry’thang done changed since you left da’ streets, even da’ jack game…You shoulda sat back and peeped da’ scene on erry’thang instead of jumping back out there in da’ streets head first, real talk playboy!”

  Trouble nodded his head before looking Slick in his eyes saying, “Yeah you’re right my nigga. So wat dey finally taking you to court on dat shit dey kicked ya’ door in fo’?” Trouble questioned officers making their way back inside to get the rest of the inmates for court.

  “Yeah, I got a letter in da’ mail a few days ago letting me know my pre-trial was dis morning. So I gotta either take a plea today or pick my twelve jurors and get ready fo’ trial.” Slick quickly stated while the officer began placing shackles and handcuffs on him, “You must be going magistrate court?” Slick questioned.

  “Yeah and to see if dey gone gimme a bond or not…Mo’ than likely dey prolly won’t!”

  “COME ON OUT DA’ CELL BEFO’ WE COME AND DRAG YOU OUT INMATE! WE AIN’T GOT TIME TO WAIT ON Y’ALL MOTHERFUCKERS TO GET DONE TALKING…FUCK Y’ALL THANK Y’ALL AT.” The officer yelled to Slick as he made his way to the door, but before leaving out he glanced back at Trouble showing a unhappy expression telling him.

  “Keep ya’ head playboy, I love ya’ bruh!” Since he had no idea when they’d run into each other again.

  “Love you too, my nigga! We dawgs fo’ life!” he quickly uttered before the officer slammed the door shut in his face and Slick was on his way to court. That moment Trouble started reminiscing back on all the good times he had, him and his boys as he took a seat and waited for the officers to come get him for court.

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  The moment Slick made it into the courtroom and took a seat, his public defender Mike Birmingham came over to have a word with him whispering, “Hey, how you doing this morning Sean, you’ve been hanging in there since the last—”

  “Mannn, I ain’t tryna be rude or nuthin’, but get straight to the point! What kinda plea da’ prosecutor boutta try and come at me wit today?”

  The way Slick rudely stopped him from trying to run game on him before he could get started made Mike realize he wasn’t dealing with a new jack that didn’t know the court system got down. Because at times your public defender would sell your ass out and you won’t
even know it, but they’ll be done already discussed your case over lunch—you know, “LET” me get the conviction I want so I can look good, and later on down the line I’ll return the favor.

  “Umm…I haven’t uhh, I haven’t had a chance to speak with the prosecutor as of yet.” Mike stuttered once Slick’s backlash hit him unexpectedly, “But umm, hang on a sec while I go see what’s what.”

  As soon as Mr. Birmingham walked away Slick looked around, and caught a brief glimpse of the courtroom but his mind went into a trance the moment he heard a voice yell.

  “ALL RISE FOR THE HONORABLE, JUDGE LINDA HENCHMAN.” As he tried to remember where he heard that name at prior to today.

  “Thank you…You may be seated. First case please.” Said Judge Henchman and just as Slick sat back down he saw Mr. Birmingham making his way back over towards him. And suddenly Slick gaze up at the Judge as it hit him. Damn, now I know where I remember dat name from…She dat evil ass Judge my roommate was tellin me bout dat day! He then took a deep breath and shook his head. Mr. Birmingham sat down next to Slick and whispered.

  “I just spoke with the prosecutor, and she’s willing to give you a plea of ten years to serve five years in prison if you plea out today…You have until your case is called to make your decision.” Once he was done, he patted Slick on the back saying, “ I gotta go speak with another client, I’ll be back to represent you soon as the case is called…Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention. You know by this being a non-violent offense you’d more than likely get released anywhere from eighteen months to three years. So take all this in consideration when making your decision.” He then grabbed his briefcase, stood up, and headed over to a different client.

  Serving eighteen months to three years before I make parole really ain’t too bad for all da’ shit dey had me charged wit, he thought to himself after realizing it don’t matter how many times you get away with the shit you doing, cause in the long run shit’ll always catch up with you when it’s all said and done because God has the last say so. Therefore, twenty minutes later his case was called and him and Mr. Birmingham approached the bench and he entered his plea.

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  Yenni was sitting in the bed looking at the afternoon news, while amigo was in bed next to her trying to take a nap. But the moment she heard the news reporter saying.

  “Good Afternoon! We’re reporting live right outside Clayton County’s magistrate court, where this young man by the name of Daunte Jones is about to make his first appearance before the court on the case that took place in Lexington Square Townhomes earlier this month when two Hispanic males were robbed at gunpoint by a group of black men who left one of the Hispanic males in critical but stable condition from two bullet wounds at Grady Memorial Hospital.”

  “Papi! Papi, look!” Yenni excitedly uttered while patting amigo repeatedly.

  “What?!” he barked, ready to explode once she eventually awaken him.

  “Papi look!” she excitedly uttered pointing at the TV screen. “What? What-is-it?” he questioned, wondering what the hell was so important for her to wake him up from his nap.

  “Papi, da perro puto that shot you…Their friend going to court right now, today. Look…Listen!!” again she uttered, directing him to the TV as the news reporter continued.

  “Daunte Jones, who was the getaway driver of the incident came out of a coma three days ago that he was initially put in by banging his against the windshield once the car crashed from trying to avoid a road spike…The other suspects involved have yet to be found, if you have any information that you’d like to share please call crime stoppers. We promise, you will remain anon—”

  “I’ll be back in a few,” he said to Yenni after turning off the TV, leaping out of bed and getting dressed with the quickness. Ten minutes later he was speeding through traffic swift and fast as he could, en route to the courthouse as soon as he arrived. He parked, got out, called his brother and two henchmen and told them to meet him at the courthouse pronto.

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  The minute Trouble walked through the doors of the courtroom escorted by two officers who instantly sat him down, took the handcuffs off that were cuffed behind his back, cuffed him in the front and quietly took their seats behind him since court was already in session. Mr. Barrie, Trouble’s public defender noticed him make his entrance and immediately hurried over to have a brief word with him before the case gets called.

  “Good Afternoon, Daunte. How you been the past few days?”

  “I been…A’ight,” he responded dull and straightforward.

  “So did you try to remember what exactly happened like I asked?”

  “Nope!” he responded with nonchalance, unconcerned for the most part from knowing this only a bond hearing so he was convinced that he’d get a unreasonable bond or more than likely no bond at all.

  “Listen Daunte I—”

  “Pow!” And Mr. Barrie was interrupted as the judge banged his gavel, “Next case please!”

  At this point Mr. Barrie and Trouble got up, made their way up to the front table and seated themselves. Moments later the judge asked.

  “Is the court ready to proceed with the statement?”

  “Yes, I am your honor,” said Detective Sims as he turned around facing Trouble and Mr. Barrie.

  “Now, before I get started, I want the court to know that this man,” he uttered pointing at Trouble. “Yes, this man sitting right before me was just released from prison for serving a ten-year bid on armed robbery a little less than two months—”

  “Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, hold on a second! This is a probable cause hearing may I remind you, not a trial, Detective Sims. So at this time the court isn’t concerned about what happened in his past that’s irrelevant! We’re only dealing with the situation at hand…Do I make myself clear?!”

  “Yes sir! Sorry, Your Honor!”

  “Good…Now carry on.”

  “Well Clayton police responded to a call in reference to a shooting that took place in Lexington Square and a apparent armed robbery against two Hispanic males, which ended with one of the them shot twice as they fled the scene. Your Honor the suspects led Clayton police on a high-speed chase for uh, approximately twenty minutes in a stolen car. As a result, the chase finally came to a end once Mr. Jones swerved and lost control of the vehicle as it spun in a circle and hit a pole from trying to dodge the road spike. The other suspects involved, jumped out and took off running while Mr. Jones remained on the scene unconscious, from severely hitting his head on the windshield and wound up going in a coma. The other suspects involved are still unknown, but we’re doing everything in out power appreh—”

  “So where are the victims and witnesses of this incident?” asked the Judge prior to Detective Sims looking around, noticing only one familiar face out the crowd. Trouble’s mother Ms. Jones, but one in particular who was seated in the very back of the courtroom grabbed his attention. He looked again to make sure as he noticed more individuals sitting next to him. It was both amigo’s that they robbed along with their henchmen. He wondered how long they had been in the room and what all they heard especially since neither of them stepped forward when the Judge asked of their whereabouts, but he put his wonders to the side when he glanced their way again, reading his lips silently telling him, I want my shit, ese. While his brother looked ahead a row of benches at Ms. Jones then at Trouble with a smirk, as he held up his arm pointing two fingers in her direction while his lips went Pow. Trouble understood the message he sent him very clearly, which meant they were gonna kill his mother if they didn’t get their shit.

  Immediately, he began to worry just thinking of the cartel’s reputation and how they got down when they retaliated on someone. But before he could go any deeper in his thoughts the Judge told Detective Sims.

  “So…what all has Mr. Jones been charged with?”

  “Your Honor, he’s being charged with armed robbery, aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, possession of a firearm by a convi
cted felon. We also found two duffel bags one contained about a hundred and fifty thousand in cash, the other had kilos of coca—”

  “Whoa, stop right there!” The judge demanded. “This case is drug related?! You know how I feel about drugs don’t you Detective Sims gazed over at Trouble and his mother who both happen to be in shock with the way the Judge addressed Detective Sims.

  “Uhh, yes, I’m aware, Your Honor!” he replied.

  “Good…However, I am gonna give you the benefit of the doubt…I’m gonna give you one week from today to find either the victims or witnesses on this case or else I’m gonna have to dismiss it…understood?”

  “Yes, Your Honor!”

  “Okay!”

  “Pow!” he slammed his gavel shouting, “Adjourned! Next case, please.”

  At the sound of the gavel Trouble instantly looked towards the back of the courtroom at the Four Hispanics guys as they got up and made a exit. At that point, he took a huge sigh of relief hoping that after a week, he’d be able to prevent them from doing any harm to his mother.

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  The moment the amigos made it home, the four of them rushed straight to the basement and once they made it down and cut on the lights they were shocked from catching sight of a wide awoke Dre and Smoke on the floor as if they never endured such torture. However they were in pain—lots of pain! But due to them not eating anything in nearly a week, the hunger they were going through completely took their mind away from everything else.

  The henchman approached Smoke and Dre and ripped the tape from their mouths as Smoke instantly went to begging for mercy.

  “Come on man…Give us sumthin to eat we’re…we’re starvin’ down here!”

  The four of them laughed from ear to ear, before Amigo came up to them, bent down, “I’m sorry to that, ese…But you know how it goes, a closes mouth don’t get fed.” He told them, displaying an evil smirk. “I’ll tell you what, ese…I’m gonna feed you two sorry motherfuckers,” he then snapped his fingers at the henchmen and nodded his head towards the door for them to go get them something, “But y’all need to tell me who sent you, unless y’all wanna end up like I did y’all homeboy!”