Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 2

by J. M. Benjamin

  The calm manner in which she spoke convinced him that she meant every word of it. His first instinct was to report the incident and abandon the case, but his curiousness overpowered his decision. He wanted to see how this particular case unfolded and wanted to be the one who played a part in its unfolding.

  “But yet, none of the murder weapons retrieved from the crime scene possessed my client’s fingerprints.”

  His words caused Teflon to peer over toward the jurors’ direction. She noticed a few puzzled and quizzical expressions on a few of their faces. She knew that a key element of her case would stir up some, if not a great deal, of confusion among them. That was something she herself was confused about initially, knowing her involvement like she knew the back of her own hand. As she played the tapes back to the event, there was no doubt in her mind that she had hit at least one of the officers when they came out of Bank of America, before she herself took one in the side. The only explanation possible she could come up with was that Treacherous had wiped her prints off the gun she used, but why? That was something she would not get the answer to until the two of them met up in the future, she reasoned. Teflon listened as her attorney continued.

  “Yes, my client is guilty. But not guilty of the charges she sits here with child being accused of.” Attorney Stanford paused for a second time to let the statement about Teflon being with child marinate. “The only thing my client is guilty of here today is loving a man too much and too hard,” he said. He really wanted to say, “Loving the wrong man,” but he didn’t want to go overboard with offending his client. Teflon’s threat months ago sat at the forefront of his mind and he thought better of it. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is not why my client is on trial here today. I hope you take all that I’ve said into account when making your ruling.”

  Attorney Stanford ended with a bow and walked back around the table where Teflon sat. The two exchanged quick glances. Teflon gave her attorney no indication that she approved of his argument and he wasn’t looking for one. After all, it was his job. District Attorney Christopher Malloy skimmed through his notes one last time before he stood. He then looked over at Teflon, who felt his eyes on her.

  “What the fuck you lookin’ at?” she mumbled under her breath just enough for him to hear and read her lips. The DA smiled and pushed his glasses up on his face. He had no sympathy whatsoever for the female criminal who sat across from him. According to the evidence, there was no doubt in his mind or heart that Teflon Jackson deserved all that she would receive and then some after a verdict was handed down. Despite what he was able to produce to build a strong case against her, he was confident the jury would render the right decision and continue to keep the female menace to society off the streets. It was DA Malloy’s intent to push for the maximum penalties, providing the verdict was what he believed it would be. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Despite what counsel says, the prosecution failed to produce. There has been evidence presented to you that clearly shows that the accused is in fact guilty of the charges she stands trial for. Evidence showed that Ms. Teflon Jackson and Mr. Treacherous Freeman exited the Norfolk, Virginia branch of Bank of America with weapons and were involved in a gun battle with police. Evidence clearly showed that there was a high-speed pursuit for Ms. Jackson and the deceased, endangering the welfare of other pedestrians and law enforcement. Evidence showed that the vehicle used as the getaway car was in fact the same car that was carjacked at a local McDonald’s, resulting in two murders. Evidence also shows that during this crime spree, six state police officers and four federal agents were killed in the line of duty, while five others were wounded. I’m not standing before you trying to convince you to speculate or even try to figure out what I didn’t or why I didn’t present the evidence counsel said I failed to produce. All I ask is that you look at the evidence that was presented to you by the courts and based on that and that alone render the decision that you feel fits. Thank you,” DA Malloy clasped his hands together and ended with a slight bow to the jury. He then returned to the table opposite of Teflon and her attorney. She rolled her eyes at the district attorney. When he sat down, he looked over at Teflon again, who now had a gun of her own plastered across her face. He had no way of knowing that Teflon was visualizing Treacherous pistol-whipping him with the butt of his gun while she stood there and watched.

  “Members of the jury. You have heard both arguments in the case of the United States of America versus Teflon Jackson. It is your duty, after hearing both parties and based on the evidence presented before you, that beyond a reasonable doubt a decision is made. It’s now ten-forty-five a.m. The court will recess for an hour while the jury returns to chambers. Bailiff, please escort the jury back to chambers,” the judge ordered with his gavel. Hearing that, the two marshals sitting two rows behind Teflon and her attorney stood and approached the front of the courtroom. “Ms. Jackson, please stand and turn around,” the female marshal requested with handcuffs in hand. Teflon exhaled and complied, and the cuffs were then placed around her wrists. “Too tight?” the marshal asked. Teflon answered with a nod. “I’ll be back there to see you shortly,” her attorney announced as Teflon was escorted through the court and to the federal holding cell. She didn’t bother to acknowledge that she had heard his words. Attorney Stanford and the male federal marshal exchanged glances. In their line of work they were all too used to detainees acting the way Teflon was. “Okay, let me get these cuffs off you,” the federal marshal said. “I’ll be back to check on you periodically and I’ll see if I can get you a pillow or blanket,” the female marshal added as she locked Teflon in the bullpen. Being a mother herself, she empathized for Teflon. She recognized labor symptoms when she saw them. She knew Teflon would deliver her child any day now. The female marshal shook her head in sadness at Teflon’s present condition and situation as she and her parties exited the holding quarters. Teflon’s hold on the bullpen’s bench slowly made her way to the floor. The bench was too small and uncomfortable for her, so she chose the floor instead, using the edge of the bench for support. In just under an hour she would receive closure on this chapter of her life. Despite her attorney’s best attempt to defend her, Teflon knew she would not be walking up out of her situation scot-free—not now, not later, or if at all. And she had come to terms with herself with that. And when she felt she could no longer take it, she’d meet up with Treacherous again. She lifted up her sweatshirt and white T underneath and began rubbing her stomach in a circular motion as images of her last moments with her other half flashed through her mind.

  “Treach,” yelled Teflon as she pointed her .380 and 9 mm butler in the direction of the police and began squeezing the triggers. “Babe, get in!” Treacherous yelled over to Teflon, attempting to cover her as police returned fire. “Treach, I’m losing a lot of blood,” cried Teflon as she applied pressure to the right side of her hip in an attempt to minimize the bleeding.

  “Just hold on, boo, I got you. You gonna be aight. We gonna make it up outta this shit, and I’ma get you to a hospital. Tef? Tef?”

  “Huh?”

  “Wake up, baby. Don’t fall asleep. Stay awake, you hear me ?” Teflon could feel him rubbing her hair.

  “Daddy, I’m weak and it’s cold.”

  “Tef! Man the fuck up, you aight. Shake that shit off. Stop all that mufuckin’ whinin’ and shit and man the fuck up!”

  “Who the fuck you yellin’ at, boy?”

  “Boo, my bad. Don’t talk; save your strength,” Treacherous said, moving Teflon’s hair from out of her face.

  “Don’t start bitchin up now, mufucka.” Despite her condition, she managed to smile.

  “Fuck you.” Treacherous smiled back.

  “Boo, hold on. We’re almost there.” Teflon heard Treacherous’s words, but could not respond. She was slipping in and out of consciousness.

  “Tef,” she heard her lover call out again, but still she was unable to respond. Treacherous’s voice was muffled and his words because inaudible.
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  “Teflon!” was the last word she heard before she lost full consciousness.

  “Ms. Jackson.” Hearing her name snapped Teflon out of her daze. When she looked up, her lawyer was standing outside the holding cell. She raised her sweatshirt and wiped her entire face. Her trip down memory lane made her emotional. She was mad at herself for allowing her attorney to witness her in that state. Out of respect, Mark Stanford pretended not to notice by going through his cellular phone for no particular reason. Teflon made an effort to stand up.

  “No, please, don’t get up,” her attorney advised. “I was just coming to let you know that the jury should be returning in about twenty more minutes. The marshal will get you in about ten. Honestly, I have to say, Ms. Jackson, I have a good feeling about this case. I think the jury may possibly rule in your favor.” Attorney Stanford made a failed attempt to counsel his client. His words were more so for himself. This was his fourth trial case and so far he was three-for-three, hoping to add a fourth one to win the case and claiming he felt they would. But in the back of his mind, he was not totally convinced of the final outcome, and his client’s uncaring facial expressions did nothing for his confidence level.

  “I’ll see you back in the courtroom,” Teflon’s attorney drily remarked, again shaking his head in disbelief about how nonchalantly she was acting.

  “Has the jury reached a verdict?”

  “Yes we have, Your Honor,” the middle-aged white female juror replied.

  “Ms. Jackson, please face the jury.” Teflon slightly turned her head toward the jury. The judge shot her a look of disgust.

  “Ms. Jackson, please turn and face the jury,” he repeated. He had just about enough of the pregnant woman’s court antics.

  “Tsk!” Teflon sucked her teeth and shifted her direction toward the jury.

  “Juror number one, please stand and read your verdict.” The juror did as she was told and stood and unfolded the white piece of paper she held in hand, faced the judge, then began to read.

  “We the jurors, in the case of the United States of America versus Teflon Jackson, find that on the charges of conspiracy to commit armed robbery in the first degree on counts one, three, sixteen, we find the defendant”—she paused, turning her attention to Teflon.

  “Guilty on all counts.”

  Teflon’s lawyer dropped his head and placed his head in the palm of his hand. Teflon only smirked. She was not at all surprised at the verdict and as far as she was concerned, the juror did not have to finish.

  “On the charges of conspiracy to commit murder in the first degree, on counts one, three, thirteen, we find the defendant guilty as charged.” Just as the first, the second conviction did not faze Teflon. She had already mentally prepared for the verdicts. After all, she was guilty of the charges she stood trial for. Life as she knew it was over for her the day they had taken Treacherous from her. Besides the life she carried inside her, she had no other reason to live. Mentally and emotionally, she was already dead. There was nothing more they could do to her, she felt. The DA had the look of victory plastered across his face as he stood.

  “Bitch-ass nigga,” Teflon murmured just loud enough for the DA to hear as the two made eye contact. “Your Honor, the prosecution is moving to impose the maximum penalties under the federal guidelines against Ms. Jackson,” the DA burst out, breaking his stare with Teflon.

  “I object, Your Honor,” Teflon’s attorney hopped up and rebutted.

  “My client—”

  “Your client is an unremorseful menace to society and threat to our community,” the DA quickly snapped back, cutting Teflon’s attorney short.

  “Fuck you, you gay-ass muthafucka!” Teflon lashed out, insulted by the district attorney’s statement.

  “Order!” the judge demanded, repeatedly banging his gavel. The marshals were now out of their seats, rushing toward the potential altercation, seeing Teflon attempting to raise up out of her chair. “Ms. Jackson, we will not—”

  “I don’t give a fuck. I don’t give a fuck!” Teflon screamed before the judge could complete his sentence. By now the marshals had reached Teflon.

  “Calm down, Ms. Jackson,” the female marshal advised as she took hold of Teflon’s left arm. The other marshal said nothing. He grabbed her by her right one.

  “Fuck that—kill me now.” The DA put distance between him and Teflon, fearful of what could possibly happen next. The jurors were bewildered at Teflon’s sudden outburst and became afraid of the wild woman. They were immediately escorted out of the courtroom.

  “I don’t give a fuck, kill—ugh!” Teflon belted over and grabbed hold of her stomach. “Ms. Jackson, are you okay?” her attorney was the first to ask.

  “Demitri, call an EMT, I think she’s going into labor,” the female marshal instructed. Teflon continued to scream in agony. Her cries shook the courtroom walls. “Holy cow,” Teflon’s attorney shouted. Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to her lawyer, wanting to know what had made him suddenly so loud.

  “She’s bleeding.” When courtroom officers looked down, they saw the burgundy stain between her legs.

  “Where’s that EMT? She’s hemorrhaging,” the female marshal yelled, seeing her partner reenter the courtroom.

  “On their way. Be here in five,” he replied.

  “Tell ’em to make it two,” she retorted. Teflon was muttering something to herself. The female marshal assumed she was trying to say something and moved in closer. “Ms. Jackson, I don’t understand you, I need you to speak clearer.”

  Teflon said her mind. She was somewhere else. The female marshal continued to try to make out her words, to no avail. Just as the EMT burst through the courtroom door, the female marshal was almost certain she had figured out what Teflon had been chanting. To be sure, she moved in closer until Teflon’s lips were nearly touching her lobe. “Treacherous I love you,” was what she had heard right before Teflon Jackson passed out.

  Chapter 2

  Teflon awoke with her wrist handcuffed to the hospital gurney. Plastic tubes running from her body to machines, her body was sore. The scenery was like déjà vu to her as she recalled the last time she landed herself in the hospital. Only the how she came about being transported to the facility and why wasn’t clear. Teflon remembered going into labor and losing consciousness inside the courtroom. As she reflected back, the thought of her and Treacherous’s child came to light in her mind. Where was her baby? she wondered.

  Then it dawned on her. The last words she had heard before she blacked out were that she was hemorrhaging. Her chest began to tighten and her mouth became dry. There was no doubt in her mind she had lost the one thing that would have kept her and Treacherous connected for life. Teflon could not believe she had a miscarried as she felt her stomach with her free hand. Something didn’t feel right to her. She slid the hospital sheet to the side and hiked the hospital dress up over her waist. When she looked down, Teflon saw that her stomach possessed staples. They had cut her open. She instantly became enraged. Not only had she lost her child, but was left with a scar that would remind her for the rest of her life. In the nine months she had the little life growing inside of her, Teflon had grown to love her expected arrival, despite knowing she would have to detach herself from it. Now there was no need to. Teflon became emotionally bothered by the thought. There had only been three living creatures in the world who Teflon had ever loved. One was her mother, Treacherous was the second, and their unborn child was the third. And none of the three existed any longer. With that in mind—just as the last time she ended up in the hospital—Teflon thought to end her own life. The only reason she had lasted this long was for the baby’s sake. But now there was no real reason for her to live any longer. Her eyes searched around the room, looking for something within reaching distance to aid her in her departure. For the second time, Teflon began snatching the tubes out of herself with her free hand, only to be interrupted by a loud cry.

  “Sssh, don’t,” the young white nur
se said to the little infant wrapped up in the powder-blue blanket. She was so engulfed with trying to quiet the baby that she never noticed that Teflon was awake, let alone her pulling the tubes out. Teflon’s heart skipped a beat seeing the nurse holding the screaming baby.

  “Ooh,” the nurse said, startled. By the time she had looked up, Teflon had ceased her behavior. “Didn’t know you were awake,” she remarked over the baby’s cries, while rocking and patting the infant on the back.

  “I’ve been bringing him in here everyday for the past few days to see you.”

  Him, Teflon heard the young nurse say. Hearing she had conceived a boy made her smile on the inside. She was hoping to have a son to carry on his father’s legacy. “Look, Mommy’s awake,” she said to Teflon’s son.

  “He’s very handsome,” she added, bringing the baby closer to Teflon. One look at her son and Teflon’s heart melted like fried ice cream. For that brief moment, her black heart was replaced with a pincushion. She didn’t feel like the gang stress she always portrayed. She felt like a woman, a mother.

  “You wanna hold him?” the nurse asked, already handing the infant over to Teflon. She cuddled her son with her free hand and looked at him and could see he was the spitting image of Treacherous. “Little Treach,” she whispered. Just as she was about to lift her son up and embrace him with a kiss, her room door flew up and two federal agents appeared. “Ma’am. Please take the child from the detained,” one of the agents instructed. His words snapped Teflon back to reality. The nurse took hold of Teflon’s son.