“They may allow you to make a call down in court staging, but I can assure you there will be a lawyer down there waiting to go into court with you. If I remember right, I believe this is just an intake hearing,” she explained, letting her eyes wander over Noeekwol’s muscular torso.
“Man, I ain’t doing shit with a public defender. I need to use the phone now, or I ain’t going no-fucking-where!” he barked at her.
“Bondz, please! Let’s not do this. I’m telling you that you’ll get to use the phone down in court staging. You don’t want to upset this judge when he’s the one who has to set your bail. Get dressed, please?” She looked over her shoulder. “Because your ride’s here,” the deputy stated before she then walked away.
Noeekwol conceded and then went over to brush his teeth, wash his tired face, and put on the jail-issued T-shirt, pants, and smock. When the transport deputies came to his cell door to get him, Noeekwol did not give them a hard time about it. He promptly gave them his wrists so they could cuff him before opening the door.
A short time later, he was down in court staging, where he was instantly informed that his lawyer, Jake Sharps, was already in the courtroom waiting for him. Next, Noeekwol was uncuffed but then re-cuffed onto a five-man chain. He and the others were then moved through the back hallways of the jail until they were in the courthouse. The halls were filled with nosey news reporters all with cameras pointed in his face.
Once in the busy, crowded courtroom, an armed, big, black, and bald-headed bailiff walked over and uncuffed them one by one, taking each of the men in orange in front of the judge. Noeekwol spotted his lawyer standing off to the side of the room having a hushed conversation with an all-business-dressed silver-haired female.
It was finally Noeekwol’s turn to see the judge. Unlike the others before him, he was not uncuffed completely. Instead, he was only disconnected from the other men with whom he shared the chain. None of the officers or the bailiffs wanted to test their fighting skills against the new light heavyweight champion of the tri-state area. The two courtroom bailiffs escorted him to his spot in front of a distinguished-looking judge, who looked to be in his mid-sixties or so, sitting on the bench.
“I’m glad you’re here. They wouldn’t let me use the phone or nothing. And they got me in the set unit,” Noeekwol hastily explained to Sharps in a low voice.
“Heaven called me right away, so I have an idea of what’s going on. I’ll come chat with you later. Right now, let’s just focus on getting this hearing over with,” he told him just as their case was being announced by the court reporter.
“Are you Noeekwol Bondz?” the judge asked with a smirk on his lips.
“Yes, sir!”
“Mr. Bondz, I wouldn’t be truthful if I sat up here and pretended like I didn’t know who you were. I am a fan, and I hate that we have to meet like this,” the judge admitted before he then repositioned himself in his seat. “Mr. Bondz, am I to assume that Mr. Sharps is your lawyer?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Do you understand that you are being charged with first-degree reckless endangerment of the safety of an officer?”
“Yes, sir!”
Noeekwol felt his lawyer nudge his foot so he would not try to explain his actions at this time to the judge.
“Mr. Sharps, have you had time to explain to your client the law of this charge he’s facing?”
“Only briefly, Your Honor,” Sharps answered.
“Do you need a moment to discuss things further, or do you believe he understands enough to go ahead with things here today?”
“I do believe he understands, and I’ve already arranged for us to have a visit shortly after this morning’s court.”
“Okay! Did you explain to Mr. Bondz that the charge he is now facing could change into a homicide charge?”
“Yes, he understands.”
“Do we have any updates on the detective’s condition?” the judge inquired, turning his attention to the ADA seated at the table beside Noeekwol and Sharps.
The ADA was the same woman Sharps had been talking with before court had started.
“Yes, Your Honor. Detective Morton Sadd is still listed in critical condition, and the doctors are unsure if he will regain consciousness,” she answered, now standing at her table.
“Mr. Bondz, do you understand that if the detective’s status changes to something more serious, then so will the charge that you’re facing now?”
“Yes, sir,” Noeekwol answered, fighting the urge to ask about the condition of his unarmed little brother the detective had shot.
“If you were not as well known a man as you are right now, Mr. Bondz, I would think of you as a flight risk. So I’m going to set bail for you today in the amount of $20,000 and place you under GPS monitoring to start at the time the set bail amount is paid. Let’s meet back in a week. Mr. Bondz, you are not to leave the city, state, or country while you’re out on bail. Do you understand this?”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
“You will be given further conditions of your release upon the set bail being paid in full.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Sharps said before he turned to Noeekwol and muttered, “I’ll have the bail paid within the hour. Just sit tight. We will talk once you’re home.”
Noeekwol agreed and thanked him for being there. When the bailiff came to escort him back to the back of the courtroom for transport, Noeekwol turned his head and saw Heaven and Nyte waving at him from the crowd. All he could do was smile to himself and nod.
FIFTEEN
Noeekwol was wandering around restle-ssly for about four hours before the set deputy came and informed him that he had a visitor. Noeekwol made himself look as good as he could for the video visit, but he wondered the entire time who could be there to see him.
“Hey, you!” Heaven greeted him when the 26-inch screen blinked to life.
“Hey, what happens now?” he questioned, noticing how aged and tired she looked since they were last really in front of each other.
“Nothing happens, Noe. I just came to pick you up; and since I had to sit here and wait, I just came over to visit you.”
“I should be out in a lil’ while, I guess. Did they tell you how long you had to wait?” he asked, which released the suspicion from his face.
“Not really. The punk I asked at the check-in desk said it might be taking longer due to them being short-staffed. But he did say you’ll be out sometime today. Hopefully before our visit is over with.”
“That’s how these muthafuckas work. They’re quick to lock us up but slow to let us go!” He slowly shook his head in disgust. “I thought I saw Nyte with you. What happened? Where’s she at?” he inquired, not seeing her in Heaven’s background.
“Oh, I dropped her back off at the hospital so she could sit with Bey and tell him how the funeral went.”
“Damn, I can’t believe I missed it. Why didn’t Auntie hold it off until I got out?”
“We didn’t think they was gonna set your bail so low, especially with the dude being the police,” she answered, watching the emotion fill his eyes. “Noe, don’t get yourself worked up. You know they know you love them and would’ve been there if you could have.”
“I know. How was it though?”
“It was nice. I recorded it, but I couldn’t bring my phone over here. They made me put it in a locker, which is just crazy since the visit is on this screen.”
“How is Bey doing?”
“He is pulling through good. The doctors say they’re keeping him under so he won’t injure himself any more than he is already, because there’s a lot of swelling around his spine.”
“What do you mean, they’re keeping him under? Under like in a coma? Heaven?” he pressed her.
“Yeah, he’s in a medical coma. They said they can control it, so there are no worries when it comes time to wake him up. They’re just trying to make sure he’ll still be able to walk when they do wake him up. Nyte has been there on ‘
em, making sure he is getting the best treatment.”
“You know I didn’t hear none of ‘em in court today say anything about my damn brother. They didn’t ask how in the fuck he was doing. But they made sure to ask about the bitch that shot ‘im!”
“Noeekwol, don’t say nothing on this thing that they can twist up to use against you. You know they’re recording this visit so they can try and catch you up in something. Jake said they gotta make you look bad in order to get the people on their side if this turns into a bigger case. So just relax and let’s talk about something else.”
“Talk about something else, like what? I’m in here, my brother is in the hospital fighting for his life, and I missed my mama and pop’s funeral.”
Before they went onto the next subject, the deputy came and told Noeekwol to wrap up his visit if he wanted to be released. Noeekwol promptly ended their video call, and about twenty minutes later he was all hooked up on the GPS ankle bracelet.
Somebody told the reporters he was on his way out, so there was a mob waiting to question him outside the front exit. So the transport deputy allowed Noeekwol and Heaven to slip out through the parking garage exit closest to where Heaven was parked on State Street. The two of them made it to the car without being noticed by the paparazzi and sped away from the trying scene.
* * *
Now that Noeekwol was home under GPS supervision, his busy lawyer made a special house call so they could go over their next plans of action in his case.
“I’m going to be honest with you here, Noeekwol. Had you not won that title, you would still be sitting in jail right now. This is a plus for us. It is also a plus that you have not been mentioned, as of yet, in the Feds’ investigation of your late father. So we gotta keep the people viewing you as their champ. So please help me do that by staying off of social media and not talking to anyone who could make you look like a common desperate criminal,” Sharps said while sitting in a soft La-Z-Boy chair inside Noeekwol’s tastefully decorated midtown apartment.
“Which I’m not. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I didn’t, in a million years, see myself like I am right now.”
“I hear you, but you broke a cop’s face. That man will never look the same again. You’re going to have people that believe that you should have had more self-control than you did when you did that, because you’re their champ, Noeekwol. The people can’t fairly judge you as a person, only as a fighter who has shown them time and time again his perfect self-control inside of a cage with someone whose only job at that time was to rip your fucking head off. So what you need to do is convince them and me right now that you did not want to do what you did to Detective Sadd. Make me know that you don’t hate cops,” Sharps told him while picking up his yellow legal pad to jot down some notes, hopefully to use in his client’s defense.
“How? I don’t know where to start!” Noeekwol confessed.
Heaven saw Noeekwol’s desperation fill his face. His vulnerability made her feel the need to protect him from being made to revisit his memories of that night. But it had to be done, and she had to trust Sharps to do his job and save Noeekwol for his and her sake.
“Tell me what you remember about the night of the raid,” the lawyer instructed, looking like he was ready to pounce on him.
“Okay.”
Noeekwol dropped his head and squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a moment or two. He was doing his best to pull up every bit of the night before he spoke again.
“I was in bed with Heaven that night.”
When he said this, he noticed Sharps’s smile of approval.
“We didn’t even know Bey was in the house until we heard the police kick down the door and start shooting.”
“Wait, do you remember if you heard the police announce themselves before the first shot was fired?”
“Nope, they just started shooting. They then yelled ‘suspect down, suspect down’ after the shooting had stopped.”
“Heaven, is that how you remember it as well?” Sharps inquired.
“Yes. I heard someone yell ‘gun,’ I think, before it started, but it was like at the very same damn time as he was shooting,” she explained, happy to be helping.
“Noeekwol, what happened next?” the lawyer asked.
“I ran out to see what was going on, thinking it was the people that had killed my parents. That’s when the police caught me by surprise and slammed me to the floor. I didn’t try to fight back because I saw they were the police. That’s when I saw my brother lying there on the floor, a few feet in front of me, trying to catch his breath. He had blood all over his chest and coming out of his mouth.”
Noeekwol closed his eyes again while simultaneously dragging his hand down his face like he was trying to wipe away the picture of his brother fighting to hold on to his life.
“Jake, Beysik didn’t have a gun or anything like that nowhere around him either. All I saw was the remote to the TV clutched in his hand.”
“So if you were on the ground, how did you attack the detective?”
“They stood me on my feet after they zip-tied my hands. That’s when that punk started saying Beysik got what he deserved and was calling him and Pops pieces of shit—and just all kinda shit like that. I snapped. I just snapped and blacked out. I broke the ties and started beating his ass. I don’t remember throwing that first punch or how many times I hit him.”
“Hmmm! This is good to know. It could be good for us,” Sharps said as he glanced at his phone and smiled as he read the screen. “I just got a text from my source at the hospital saying the detective is awake and expected to make it. But he may not be able to work anymore because of the damage to his brain.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we need to make a deal as soon as we can.”
“What do you mean, make a deal?” Heaven asked.
“Listen, no matter what or how we put it at trial, Noeekwol, you still beat a cop half to death. If we plea now, the state would be grateful that we didn’t drag them through a trial, and they’ll be more inclined to give us what we ask for.”
“So what do you think we should ask for?” Noeekwol asked.
“To be honest, they’re going to want some jail time out of you. But you should not be facing anything more than five years in state prison.”
“Five years!”
“That does not mean that you will have to be inside there that long. If you say yes to us plea bargaining, then I will go to the judge we had today and ask him for a set sentence of twenty-four months in and thirty-six months out with earned good time.”
“But what about my career as a fighter? I don’t know, Jake. I got to really think about this. On top of that, I have to think about more than just myself with Bey in his condition. How come that’s not being brought up at all? My brother is in a fucking coma. That’s not being talked about at all, and it’s because of that son of a bitch!”
“Whoa now, champ! Don’t go all Black Lives Matter on me now. I’m on your side. I promise to bring Beysik’s condition up when I go in to speak with the judge and ADA. I do believe that would help sway them our way, but you do what you must and think about it. Sleep on it and get back to me. Right now it’s a race to see who can get to the judge first,” Jake Sharps told them before he got up to leave. “Call me if you have any more questions, or if you need any help getting your affairs together.”
“Okay, I will. Thanks!”
Heaven bounced up and escorted the lawyer out. She then came back and dropped herself onto Noeekwol’s lap and hugged him.
“Let’s not think about that stuff right now. You’re already too upset to make that type of decision right now. So let’s chill.”
“Man.”
“Man, nothing, Noe! I told you I’m here for you as long as you want me to be.” She kissed the side of his face. “Let me take your mind off of it?” Heaven took his hands and placed them on her breasts and then enchantingly gyrated her hips while pressing her warmth firmly a
gainst the erection growing in his jeans.
“Tell me what’s on your mind right now. No. Better yet, show me!”
She encouraged him by kissing the corner of his smile before tracing her tongue across his lips until he gave into her.
SIXTEEN
Tabitha made a quick stop home for a change of shoes before she was due in court for Noeekwol Bondz’s sentencing. When she pulled up to the house, Bret’s car was in the driveway with its trunk wide open. That was an indication to the detective that he did not plan to stay there long. It also made her wonder what he was doing. She double-parked her car and rushed inside the house. That was when she found him boxing up his things.
“Bret? What is this? What are you doing?” she questioned while scanning the room and seeing only his things out of place. “Are you leaving me?”
“Tab! Hon! No, I mean, yeah. Just not the way it looks.”
“It looks like you’re moving out.”
“I am, but I wasn’t just going to leave without telling you.”
“Bret, I know what I said awhile back about wanting to be married, and I’ve been meaning for us to talk, but there’s just been so much going on.”
“No, no! It’s not that,” Bret said as he set down the armful of shirts he was carrying and took her by the hand.
He led her over to the sofa.
“Tab, I want you to know that I love you, and nothing about this will ever change that.”
“Okaaaay, so where are you going with this? What’s wrong?”
Bret pulled her down onto the sofa beside him and then briefly took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before he spoke again.
“Tabitha, I’m gay,” he admitted as he exhale-ed.
“Gay? No, Bret! What? You? How?” she asked in shock.
“Hon, I just really need to figure me all the way out. All I know is I am tired of running from who I am and how I feel. You deserve better. You don’t deserve me lying to you. You don’t deserve me cheating on you the way I have been for the past three months. I’m sor—!”
Scarred Knuckles Page 7
