Defining Moments

by Ben Burgess Jr.

  Me: Sorry if I’m interrupting your romp.

  Rashida: It’s cool. After I had serviced her something proper, I kicked her out. Back to you. I told you he was a playa. I knew he wasn’t shit.

  Me: Well, I have to work with this asshole now.

  Rashida: Word around the precinct is he might be a daddy soon.

  Reading that shit, I had to call her. I couldn’t discuss that over text.

  “Hello,” Rashida said.

  “You lyin’.”

  “Nope. She’s been throwing up all week. I thought she just had the flu, but during our brief pillow talk, Osborne told me what was going down.”

  “You’re sure? Suzan Gibbs? The white girl?” I asked.

  “Yup. Apparently, they’ve been hooking up on the low.”

  “Isn’t she married?”

  “Uh-huh. Osborne said Gibbs took a couple of pregnancy tests and told some of the girls in the locker room that if she’s pregnant, she’s keeping it. I think she’s scheduled to see her doctor tomorrow to find out if it’s official.”

  All this time, Morgan had made me believe I wasn’t true to myself or my people by dating someone white, and his ass was fucking a white girl. I felt so stupid. I was smarter than that. What should’ve been a good day for me had turned out to be a nightmare.

  * * *

  “Where the fuck is St. Clair?” Officer Gibbs’s husband asked.

  He was tall and muscular. His face was fire-truck red, and he had veins popping out of his neck and bald head.

  Officers Mendez and Mahoney tried to calm him down, but he kept calling for Morgan.

  “Tell St. Clair to come down and face me like a man. He needs to stop hiding behind these cops like a bitch.”

  Rashida and I stood by the desk and enjoyed the show. Morgan was upstairs in the locker room.

  * * *

  When we came in this morning, we didn’t acknowledge each other. I was fine with that. This morning, Gibbs walked into the precinct and confirmed that she was pregnant and keeping it.

  “Morgan, we need to talk,” Gibbs said.

  Her green eyes were red-rimmed. It looked like she was stressed out.

  Morgan and I both walked behind the front desk to sign in for the day. He waved her off.

  “Go on, girl. I just walked in the door. I don’t got time for your shit right now,” he said.

  I pretended to check the attendance sheet so I could eavesdrop on their conversation.

  “You know I always wanted children,” Gibbs said. “Mike has a fertility problem. This is my only chance.”

  “That’s not my fucking problem. Stop talking to me about this shit. The kid could be anyone’s.”

  “Really? You fuck me, and after you got what you wanted, you treat me like this?”

  He stormed around the desk, grabbed her by the arm, and took her into the juvenile room. Everyone else in earshot and I ran to the juvenile room to try to listen to their yelling through the door.

  “Mike is unemployed,” she said. “Between your salary and mine, we could have a good family life.”

  “You’re not grasping the type of relationship we had,” Morgan said. “Fuck buddies don’t start families together. You need to take care of your problem and get out of my face with that bullshit.”

  “No. You’re not going to treat me like some fucking thot. I’m keeping this baby. Regardless of whether you’re with me, you’re going to pay to take care of it.”

  “We’ll see about that after the paternity test.”

  “You’re a fucking asshole. Mike is on his way here right now.”

  “For what?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Fuck that. I’m not losing my job over you.”

  Morgan opened the door. Everyone scattered and tried to act busy, but Rashida and I didn’t.

  He held the elevator open before going up, looked at me, and said, “If anyone asks, I’m changing into my uniform.”

  I rolled my eyes. Two minutes later, Gibbs’s husband stormed in ready to beat his ass.

  “That motherfucker knocked up my wife. I’m going to kill him,” Mike said.

  Officers and other supervisors were texting Morgan not to come down. Inspector Phillips walked off the elevator.

  “Mendez, Mahoney, get him out of here now,” the inspector ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

  “Sir, if we see you around this precinct again, you will be arrested,” Phillips told him.

  “Come on, buddy. Let’s go,” Mahoney said, taking Mike by the arm.

  The inspector looked at me and said, “Have St. Clair and Gibbs come to my office—immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Rashida messaged both of them for me. I watched them enter the office and wondered what was in store for them.

  * * *

  Inspector Phillips had both Morgan and Gibbs transferred to different precincts. I watched as Morgan cleared out his locker, walked to the parking lot, and loaded everything into his car to take to his new precinct. We stared at each other. Then I walked back inside the precinct, glad that I hadn’t become another conquest for him.

  Chapter 34

  Billy

  Villain

  I was lonely, sitting in my living room, flipping through channels. The Dark Knight was on HBO, so I settled on that. One line that the character Harvey Dent said kept eating at my already-destroyed conscience: “You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” I felt like a villain. The moment I stepped in that courtroom and defended that fucking rapist, I felt like a failure.

  I hadn’t heard from Ebony today. I felt empty. I didn’t have the responsibility of taking care of my mom to help get my mind off Ebony not being here anymore. The movie quote kept echoing in my head. I felt like everything I was fighting for didn’t matter anymore. My mom was dead, so I didn’t need money to take care of her now. Ebony was still giving me the cold shoulder. Winning this case and making partner didn’t mean shit if I wasn’t going to marry Ebony. I felt lost.

  * * *

  The next morning, the trial resumed. The cameras were set up and ready to film Sophia’s testimony.

  Sophia walked up to the witness stand and took the oath. She was wearing a tight tan business suit that clung to her chest, hips, and ass. She wore a white blouse that had her cleavage spilling out.

  “Ms. Winters, I know it’s uncomfortable, but could you please tell us what happened during your encounter with Mr. Alfieri?” the DA said.

  Sophia took a deep breath as she prepared herself to relive the whole ordeal from beginning to end.

  Johnny slouched in his chair, deliberately displaying how unmoved he was by her testimony with his nonchalant attitude. Tears streamed down her face. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and took a deep breath, attempting to pull herself together as the memory faded.

  I turned to face Johnny. I watched as he licked his lips and swallowed hard at her testimony. The bastard looked like he was getting off hearing her recap the experience.

  Sophia continued, lost in her story. When she was finished, many of the jurors were wiping away tears and frowning at Johnny.

  “I have no further questions, Your Honor,” the DA said.

  I stood up to cross-examine Sophia, handing her a tissue for her tears. Sophia dabbed her eyes. She smiled and said, “Thank you.”

  “It’s no problem,” I said, smiling back.

  I started off aggressive because I wanted to make her slip up.

  “Ms. Winters, you work at J’s Gentlemen’s Quarters, is that correct?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What kind of business is that?”

  “It’s a gentlemen’s club.”

  “Is it safe to say another name for a gentlemen’s club would be a strip club?”

  She hesitated. “Uh ... I guess some people would call it that.”

  “And what’s your occupation there?”

&nb
sp; “I’m a dancer.”

  “When you are dancing, are you usually naked?”

  “... Yes.”

  “Is it safe to say, you are an erotic dancer?”

  “... Yes.”

  “Would another term for an erotic dancer be considered a stripper?”

  “Objection, Your Honor. He’s leading the witness.”

  “Overruled. Ms. Winters, please answer the question.”

  Sophia sighed. “Yes. Another name for an erotic dancer would be a stripper.”

  “Was business good for you before the incident with Mr. Alfieri?”

  “It was OK, I guess. I was getting by.”

  “How has business been going recently?”

  She looked like she was trying to pick her words carefully. “It’s been steady,” she said.

  “Is it true that since you made the accusations against my client, business has more than tripled for you?”

  “Objection!” the DA said.

  “I’ll withdraw and rephrase the question,” I said. “Ms. Winters, has your career been prosperous since this case began?”

  “Yes, but-”

  “Is it safe to believe that you’re using this case to propel your career, that you’re risking the reputation, livelihood, and freedom of my client with your allegations for your own benefit?”

  “No—”

  “Isn’t it true that you’ve been made the headliner of the club and have been receiving more requests than ever to meet clients in the VIP section?”

  “Yeah, I have, but-”

  I walked near the jury box when I said, “Ms. Winters, answer this question truthfully, and remember, you’re under oath. Have you engaged in sexual activity with customers at the strip club after your allegations against my client?”

  Sophia slowly nodded. Her lips began to tremble. “Yes.”

  Everyone in the courtroom was whispering and shaking their heads.

  “Ms. Winters, do you enjoy sex?” I asked.

  “Wh-what?” she replied, fidgeting in her chair.

  “Do you enjoy having sex with a charming, handsome man?”

  “Objection,” the DA said. “These comments and claims are irrelevant to these proceedings, Your Honor.”

  “Your Honor, the question is leading to the motive of the complainant,” I said.

  “Overruled. Ms. Winters, please answer the question,” the judge stated.

  “Yeah, I enjoy sex,” Sophia said softly.

  “Did you engage in sexual intimacy with Mr. Alfieri on May third?”

  “You know I did.”

  “Did you enjoy the intimacy?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “When Mr. Alfieri paid you for your time with him in the VIP room, what did you do with the money he left you?”

  She shook her head. Tears formed in her eyes. “I took it,” she said, a little above a whisper.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Winters, what did you say?”

  “I said I kept the money.”

  “Uh-huh. Isn’t it true that Mr. Alfieri informed you that he was a famous basketball player?”

  “Yes.”

  “Isn’t it true that you didn’t agree to go to the VIP room with him until after he informed you of his profession?”

  “Yes, but—”

  Tears were freely flowing from her eyes now. She was stammering and flustered. I knew I needed to keep throwing questions at her to trip her up.

  “Isn’t it true that you willingly took off your clothes when you first entered that room?”

  “Yes.”

  “And knew that there were cameras in the VIP room?”

  “I did know about the cameras, and I did take off my clothes, but—”

  “Did you not encourage him during the sex to ejaculate inside of you?”

  “I did.”

  “You enjoyed sex with him, didn’t you?”

  “I did-No! I mean, I didn’t.”

  Sophia shook her head and looked desperately to the jury. “I swear to God, I didn’t enjoy it,” she said.

  I knew the damage was done. The jury was already giving her halfhearted looks.

  “Ms. Winters, have you ever been arrested?”

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice shaky.

  “What charges have you been arrested for in the past?”

  She was hesitant and looked fearfully at the district attorney.

  “I’ll repeat the question. Ms. Winters, what have you been arrested for in the past?”

  Sophia shook her head but didn’t answer.

  “Will the witness please answer the question,” the judge said.

  “Prostitution and soliciting prostitution,” Sophia responded shamefully. She dropped her head. She looked defeated.

  I cleared my throat and asked, “How many times have you been arrested for those charges?

  “Four times.”

  The jury and crowd talked amongst themselves. The judge banged her gavel to gain order.

  “Weren’t you arrested two years ago for prostitution?”

  “Yes.”

  “Be honest. You knew claiming that a major NBA star raping you would gain you a lot of press and boost your popularity in your career, right?”

  “No ...”

  “This man’s career and life are on the line—”

  “That man raped me. Yeah, I’ve fucked some guys at the club after I made the charges, but I relapsed because I felt that was all I was good for. He ruined me.”

  Sophia wailed and broke down on the stand, sobbing while holding her face in her hands.

  “We’ll take a fifteen-minute recess,” the judge announced.

  Francis was smiling and laughing with Johnny and his crew. Sophia was sitting with the DA trying to pull herself together. I felt like an asshole. I stood up and rushed toward the men’s room.

  Quickly, I walked inside and threw tap water on my face, then stared and cursed at my reflection. How could I do that to that woman? She’d poured her heart out to that jury, and I made her look like she was nothing more than a whore, when I knew for a fact Johnny had raped her and enjoyed it. What type of man was I becoming?

  Francis strolled into the bathroom and walked up to the urinal. “You had that girl on the ropes.” He laughed while pissing. “I loved how you played on her last arrest. It left her speechless. I think the jury sees now that she’s just a money-grubbing whore that’s looking for her ten seconds of fame.” He walked to the sink and washed his hands.

  I held on to the sink and continued to look at my disgusted expression in the mirror.

  “He’s guilty,” I said. “I know he’s guilty. He told me he raped her, and he doesn’t give a shit about it. This isn’t like other cases where my clients were just using a loophole in the system, or I had an idea they might be guilty but didn’t know for sure. I know the truth, and he raped that girl.”

  “Calm down, Bill,” he said. “You’re getting yourself all worked up over nothing. So what if he’s guilty? You’re a lawyer. It’s never been about if our clients are right or wrong, lying or telling the truth. The truth is not as important as what you can persuade the jury to believe, and the secret to disguising a lie to the jury is to mirror it with the truth.”

  His response was emotionless and detached.

  “How can I defend that man knowing the truth?” I asked.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Francis said. “Are you really asking that question? This is your fucking job—that’s how. You don’t sound like partner material right now, and the way you’re acting under pressure, you’re making me question if you’re competent enough to continue working at this firm in general. Suck it up and man up, because we’re expecting you to win this case for the firm.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. “I went into law to do the right thing and defend those who really needed it.”

  “Oh, spare me the bullshit. It’s one thing to lie to me, but if you believe in the lie you’re telling yourself and can�
�t see it’s a lie, that’s a damn shame, and you’re delusional. You want to be some fucking hero? Quit the firm and become a public defender. Go ahead and help all the little niggers and spics with their legal problems and make crumbs for a living. Be my guest. You work for a major law firm for a reason: to make money. Don’t act all self-righteous now because this case hit a sore spot with you and you developed a conscience. Now, pull yourself together, put a smile on your face, march in that courtroom, and do your fucking job.”

  I walked out of the bathroom, feeling like a villain.

  * * *

  “The defense would like to call Mr. Jerrod Jefferson to the stand,” I said.

  Jerrod walked to the witness stand and was sworn in.

  “Mr. Jefferson, were you working on the night in question?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I was there.”

  “Do you remember seeing Ms. Winters that night?”

  “Yeah, she was working.”

  “After the incident, how was Ms. Winters’s behavior?”

  “She wasn’t happy, but most women aren’t after fucking guys for money.”

  The courtroom laughed.

  “Order!” the judge said, banging her gavel. “Mr. Jefferson, refrain from using that language in my courtroom or you’ll be placed in contempt.”

  “Sorry. She wasn’t happy,” Jerrod said.

  “Did she seem sad or distraught?” I asked.

  “If she was, she got over it quickly, because she was giving lap dances later that night.”

  “Why did you decide to place cameras all around your business?”

  “To try to stop these bit—girls from sleeping with the customers.”

  “Other than the night in question, do you know if Ms. Winters slept with customers after her allegations against my client?”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” the DA protested.

  “Your Honor, again, this shows motive,” I said.

  “Overruled,” the judge stated.

  “Yup, she slept with close to ten guys afterward. I’m not trying to get in trouble for her bull ... actions, so I made sure to document it and report it.”

  Tears streamed down Sophia’s face. I knew her will was broken.

  “I have no further questions, Your Honor,” I said.

  The DA cross-examined.