Carl Weber Presents
Ride or Die Chick 2
J.M. Benjamin
www.urbanbooks.net
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Ride or Die Chick 2
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Copyright Page
Carl Weber Presents
Ride or Die Chick 2
by J.M. Benjamin
This book is dedicated to all the women who stand by the men they love.
Acknowledgments
Eternal thanks to the Most High for allowing me the strength to keep moving forward and never looking backwards. Without Your guidance I would be lost.
Thanks to my family and few friends who have been and continue to be a major asset and supporter in all that I do. I wish you all nothing but the best.
Thanks to all of my readers old and new: Without you I would not have a voice in this game.
Much love to the many incarcerated men and women around the world who may have or may not have read a J.M. Benjamin book. My story behind the stories I write is your story. Continue to believe there are better days ahead, because there really is life after incarceration.
Peace
J.M. Benjamin
Prologue
Her vision was blurry as she opened her eyes. She had been under heavy observation for the past four days, expected not to survive. It had been a crucial and life-threatening four days, but being the strong individual she was, she had survived, although she felt a little weak. She had no clue as to where she was, not even aware that she was unconscious for a period of time. Upon gaining some of her sight, she began trying to focus on where it was she was actually at. She attempted to wipe her heavy eyelids, feeling the coal on them that made it difficult to clear her vision, but came up with a short hand, now realizing she had been handcuffed to something.
With her free hand, she wiped her eyes and as her vision became clearer, she noticed she had been handcuffed to a hospital bed. But that was not all. She had a tube stuck in her chained-up arm, which ran from a machine and saw another one running from a machine up under her hospital gown. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how she wound up in a hospital cuffed to a bed and why. Her memory was a blur, and she had no recollection of what had taken place days ago. She began moving, only to find out her whole entire body was sore. But why? She had no clue.
She continued looking around, searching for clues that would give her some indication how she was in the predicament she was in. As she looked to her left she spotted a newspaper on the hospital nightstand next to the bed. She painfully reached over and grabbed the paper. The date read October 28th, 2007, and she couldn’t determine whether the newspaper was actually that day’s or yesterday’s, because she had no knowledge as to what day it really was. The front page had a heading that stuck out to her, but she didn’t know why. It read in big, bold letters: THE BONNIE AND CLYDE OF THE NEW MILLENNIUM. Up under the heading was a picture of a black CLS. Even before she began reading the article, the car triggered something inside her as images of it began to fill her mind, causing her to remember some things. Within the first four lines tears began to roll down her face. Reading her soul mate’s name caused Teflon to regain all of her senses and have her thoughts restored. Everything all made sense now. October 28 was the day they decided to rob the bank. The heading Bonnie and Clyde of the new millennium referred to her and Treacherous. The Mercedes was the car she and Treacherous had jacked and murdered the two young dealers for to use on the bank job. She had taken a shot to the side as they were coming out of the bank, and Treacherous had taken the police on the high-speed chase in attempts to get her to the hospital, which was all she could remember. As she continued to read, the rest was answered for her in black-and-white; how Treacherous had gone all out right there on the Virginia Beach exit while she lay there unconscious.
Teflon’s tears flowed harder as she envisioned the scene. She knew there was only one thing that no one else could know besides her, which would make Treacherous take the route he took. The only thing that would have made her take the same route had the situation been different and she was in his shoes: if one thought the other was dead. How could he have thought she was dead? she wondered. Was her pulse or heartbeat that low that it went undetected? Teflon wanted to know the answers to those questions, because they were the answers that caused her to lose her other half—or her better half, as Treacherous would say. She smiled at the thought. She remembered when Treacherous had first told her about the bank and how he had said that after that day every dude and chick would be comparing themselves to Treacherous and Teflon. He had said they were like Bonnie and Clyde and Romeo and Juliet all wrapped up in one, but harder, and everything he said was coming to pass. Teflon herself had viewed their love for each other as a Romeo-and-Juliet relationship because they too were young and in love, and just as Romeo took his own life, assuming Juliet had been dead, Treacherous had basically done the same. And just as Juliet woke, only to find out that Romeo was dead, so did Teflon. She began beating herself up, knowing had she not been unconscious she and Treacherous would have gone out together in a blaze of glory. She began ripping the tubes from up out of her in an attempt to find a way to take her own life, just as Juliet did, so she could meet up with her soul mate again.
While in the process of doing all of this, the doctor walked in, catching Teflon in the act and rushed over to her.
“Ms. Jackson!” the doctor yelled, grabbing her free hand.
“Calm down. You’re all right. You and the baby are going to be fine, just take it easy.”
Up until his last statement Teflon continued to resist the doctor’s attempts to restrain her, but hearing what he just said registered enough to get her to instantly stop what she was trying to do.
“What did you just say?” she asked the doctor, making sure she had heard him correctly, as she cleared her throat.
“I said to take it easy, you and the baby are going to be fine,” he repeated. Right then Teflon noticed the officer, who she assumed stood guard by her room door, stick his head inside.
“Is everything all right, doc?” the white young-looking officer asked, hearing all the commotion from the hallway.
“Yes, everything is fine,” the doctor replied, not wanting to cause a scene or get the pretty young girl in any more trouble than she was already in.
By now, Teflon had calmed down completely after getting the doctor’s confirmation on his last statement.
“That’s better,” expressed the doctor as he started reattaching the tubes that Teflon had snatched out of her.
He assumed she had awakened and wigged out at the sight of everything, which he thought to be normal in her case, after experiencing such a traumatic event days ago. He himself couldn’t bel
ieve how such a beautiful-looking woman could be mixed up in such an ugly ordeal and have dealings with a man of the young man’s caliber that he had read about in the newspaper and seen plastered all over the news, but had he known the extent of their bond and relationship, he would not have been so quick to doubt Teflon’s ruthlessness. He had left the newspaper on the nightstand next to her bed for whenever she awoke, figuring she would want to know the outcome of the serious situation she had just survived, which he felt she was probably forced into. How could she have gone along with such a plan on her own free will, as innocent as she appeared to look? But because he had grown up with practically a silver spoon in his mouth and was naive as green, artificial grass when it came to the streets, he could only a judge a book by its cover without knowing the truth and depths of the contents inside.
“It’s good to see you awake. We thought we were going to lose you, but you’re a strong young woman.”
Teflon watched him as his hand slid under the hospital blanket with the intent of reconnecting the tube that was once stuck in her side. She felt his hand brush up against her bare hips and flinched. No other man had touched her body in over twelve years besides Treacherous, and the thought of the doctor’s foreign hand on her brought chills through her body.
“I got it,” she said, moving the doctor’s hand.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the doctor, thinking he had hurt her. “Are you sore?”
“Yeah, a little.”
“All right. I’ll see to it that you get something to help with the pain and for infections as well. You took a nasty hit. It was iffy in the operating room.”
“How long was I unconscious?” Teflon asked.
“Four days.”
“Damn. What about the baby? How long have I been pregnant?” she asked.
“You mean you didn’t know?” the doctor asked, surprised.
“If I did, I wouldn’t have asked,” replied Teflon, her attitude becoming agitated.
The doctor caught the hostility mixed with sarcasm and blamed it on Teflon’s condition.
“You’re five weeks’ pregnant.”
Teflon thought back to the last time she and Treacherous had made love and began to smile at the thought, as tears streamed down her face once again. Their last encounter was the time she had awoke, only to find Treacherous masturbating with one hand while he had his other one between her thighs. She remembered all too well and realized that had she not replaced his hand with her love box that day, she would not have a part of him growing inside of her. Adding this new piece to the equation caused Teflon to rethink her plans. There was nothing else she wanted more in life than to join Treacherous wherever he was, whether it be heaven or hell, but because of the five-week-old life that dwelled inside of her, her plans to meet up with her better half would have to be delayed and their reunion would have to be put on hold; at least for another seven months.
Chapter 1
“All rise for the Honorable Judge William H. Braswell of the District of Virginia.”
Teflon sighed in frustration as she struggled to lift herself up out of the wooden courtroom chair. She was sick and tired of being lugged back and forth to court month after month for something she already knew the final outcome of. She felt it had been a long and drawn-out case. When she first laid eyes on the jurors who would determine her fate, there was no doubt in her mind what type of verdict would be handed down. Seeing them over to her far right now, and the way they stared and murmured among themselves, only confirmed Teflon’s thoughts. The only reason she had actually taken her case to trial was because she knew it was what Treacherous would have wanted her to do. “We fighters, babe, we go hard or go home,” he would always say to her, Teflon recalled. She fought to suppress her emotions at the thought of her other half as a sharp pain jolted through the small of her back. Between the spasms she had been having since the gunshot wound she was recovering from and the nine-month-old life growing inside of her, her movement was turtle-like and painful. As tough as she was, she was no match for the battle she had been going through with the life inside of her. Noticing her facial expressions, her attorney made an attempt to aid her. It was apparent to him that she was in pain, but he was stopped in his tracks by her sudden expression that spoke volumes, making it perfectly clear to him that his services were not welcomed nor needed. After representing her for the last eight months, he had grown accustomed to her nonchalant and cold demeanor, so he was not at all surprised that she had declined his help. Teflon stood in front of the table with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, sporting her gray county sweat suit and county-issued tennis shoes. She used the table to brace herself as the judge entered the courtroom. The additional twenty-one pounds she put on between the baby and jail made it that much more difficult for her to stand. The weight was uncomfortable for her and she couldn’t wait to shed both it and the baby and get back to her normal size of nine-ten.
“Please be seated,” the judge instructed
“Umph,” Teflon grunted as another spasm shot through her lower back.
“This is the trial of the United States of America versus Teflon Jackson. Counsels, state your names for the record.”
“Your Honor, Mark Stanford of the public defender’s office of Norfolk for the defense,” announced Teflon’s attorney
“Christopher Malloy, district attorney of Norfolk for the prosecution, Your Honor.”
“If I’m correct, today is the final day of this trial,” the judge stated, skimming through the paperwork before him. “Counsels will deliver their closing arguments and remarks and the jury will render a verdict based on the information and evidence that has been presented to them throughout this trial. Counsel, are you ready to proceed?”
“Yes, Your honor, “ both counsels replied.
“Mr. Stanford.”
This was the moment of the truth, thought Mark Stanford. He took one look back at Teflon and slightly shook his head in disbelief as he sighed to himself. In exchanged, Teflon stared him right in the eyes, unfazed by his sympathetic eyes. He couldn’t believe how hard-core Teflon was and had been throughout the entire time of his representation. In his thirteen years of practice as a public defender, he had never encountered a client more difficult and rebellious then Teflon Jackson. In the eight months he had been her lawyer, from day one she was uncooperative. It had been like pulling teeth trying to get her to open up in order to assist him in trying to soften the blow of what he knew was her inevitable fate, according to what he had read and discovered about the case. There were a few angles and approaches he would have liked to have taken for her defense, but Teflon refused to talk with him after stating she wanted to go to trial. She wouldn’t budge even when he tried to appeal to her maternal side; still, she rejected the notion of helping him help her, so his only defense was based on the lack of evidence they actually had against her. Attorney Stanford sympathized with the pregnant young woman, but due to his heavy workload and promising cases of clients who were willing to help themselves as well as the government in exchange for leniency, he was all too happy to be bringing this particular case to a close. Mark Stanford took a sip of the ice water that sat before him and cleared his throat. “Members of the jury,” he started as he walked from behind the court table and adjusted his tricolor necktie. “In the past few months you have heard allegations from the prosecution against my client that make her out to look like not only this modern-day Bonnie from Bonnie and Clyde, but also this stone-cold killer. As you know, Ms. Jackson is being charged with multiple counts of conspiracy to commit armed robbery in the first degree and conspiracy to commit murder in the first.” He let the accusations of the charges linger before he continued. “But what she is being accused of and charged with is not the case here today. No.” He paused.
“The case here is what evidence has been presented to substantiate these allegations against my client.” He paused again, then pivoted.
“The prosecution would like you to be convinced that m
y client, Ms. Teflon Jackson, conspired to commit armed robbery, but yet he failed to produce any surveillance video clearly showing my client’s direct involvement in the allegation. Nor was he able to produce a witness from inside the bank who could testify to the fact of whether or not my client was held against her own free will by the deceased Mr. Treacherous Freeman.”
His words and the mentioning of Treacherous’s name instantly gained her attention and rubbed Teflon the wrong way. She had no idea or clue as to her attorney’s closing arguments and really didn’t care up until the time he had just tried to portray her as the victim and her other half as the villain. She was tempted to jump up and set the record straight, but Treacherous’s words danced in her head as if he were right beside her. “Using emotions over intellect is never justifiable,” she heard him repeating.
Why the fuck you leave me like this? Teflon questioned in her mind, staring up to the ceiling as if Treacherous were up there looking down at her. She grabbed a napkin off the table to wipe her left nostril. It began to run. She sat up and became attentive as her lawyer continued. “The prosecution states that my client is guilty of conspiracy to commit murder,” attorney Stanford said with emphasis, turning to face Teflon and pointing in her direction. He could tell she was not too pleased by the comment he had made about her deceased boyfriend. He knew he would be treading on thin ice with her by painting the picture he just had, but it was the only way he felt he could help spare her life. He was fully aware of the bond the couple shared. He had found out firsthand a few months back, when he had made the fatal mistake of merely referring to Treacherous as this guy and making mention of him being deceased. At forty-three years old, standing at five feet ten, tipping the scales at 215 pounds, he had never been so afraid of someone who he outweighed, and he’d felt outmatched in his life that day. And to top it off, it had been a woman who had instilled this fear within him. It wasn’t anything she had done—but what she had said and how she had said it—which sent chills throughout Mark Stanford’s entire body. He couldn’t help but replay the words that invaded his sleep many nights: “If you ever speak of my deceased loved one in vain in my presence ever again you’re gonna meet him.”
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