Larceny (28 page)

 

Damn, Meeka was gonna fuck the whole thing up. She was a hot snitch-ass bitch, just like her man. She walked to the stand all fat and pregnant.

 

 

At the moment, I was shocked that Meeka didn't tell. Damn, Meeka was a soldier. She was keepin' that shit on the street. It was Bilal the whole time who snitched. Meeka was willing to do some time for her nigga, and he was the one who snitched. Damn, that's fucked up. I shoulda known Meeka was down. She came from a family of hustlers, and they taught her well. Damn, I respected that shit to the fullest degree.

 

 

Damn, fuck a mistrial! I needed that judgment of acquittal. If I got a mistrial, that meant I had to stay in jail until another trial, and that may take about a year. Who knows? I might not even beat the next trial.

 

 

Who the fuck could that be? A surprise witness. Now they puttin' shit in the game.

I leaned over and said, “Hey, Michelle, what the fuck is going on?”

“I don't know, Jovan. This is all new to me. Hold up. I'ma try and do something.”

 

What the fuck! Man, I knew Sonya wasn't going out like that. I was fucked up. I told this bitch everything, and this bitch done flipped the script on me. Naw, not Sonya. I loved this woman. Damn, it seemed like everything I loved turned into hate.

 

Everyone in the courtroom was clapping, and Sonya got off the stand and left. I wondered where she was going and what the fuck she was doing up there in the first place.

 

 

 

This time when I entered the courtroom, I sat way, way in the back so no one could see me. I saw that Jovan kept looking back for me, but I had on a disguise. I was dressed as an old woman. I wanted to help my man, show him that I was down.

The purpose for my disguise was for Meeka. If Meeka had fucked my man around, I was gonna follow her out of the courtroom and put a knife right in her neck. When I saw that she didn't snitch, I knew my baby was coming home. I knew I would hear the judge say that she may rule for a mistrial and not the acquittal. Shit, if Jovan got a mistrial, that wasn't nothing. That only meant he had to stay in jail and wait for another trial, and that may take at least another year. Fuck that. I needed my man home now! This was my fiancé. I couldn't let him go out like that.

When they called for a recess, I went into the ladies room and took off my disguise and found the prosecutor in the hallway. I told her I hated Jovan for what he did, and that he had a child on me and I knew everything he did. She instantly told me to testify. I knew if I got up there and told them my real name and how I went to jail, it would fuck the whole trial up and cripple the prosecution so much that the judge would flip the fuck out and rule for an acquittal.

I had to do it. I had to do something to free my man. I couldn't be a witness for his defense. They wouldn't have believed me because I was his fiancée and they knew I would lie for him, so instead I turned it around and still lied. The best lie ever.

 

 

 

On my way outta the courthouse, I was still looking for Sonya, and she wasn't nowhere in sight. Fuck it. She mighta left, rolled out. I was still fucked up as to why she got on the stand. Was it to help me or ruin me? As Michelle, Mark, and I walked out of the D.C. Superior Court, Michelle gave me a hug and told me I owed her some money. I told her to put it on my tab.

“So, Jovan, what are you going to do now?” Mark asked me.

“I don't know yet. Maybe I'll go back to school, Maybe I'll just chill,” I told him.

“Well, whatever you do, you know you gotta be smooth about it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Hey, Jovan, let me tell you something so you'll know lawyer strategy and stay two steps ahead,” Mark said.

“What's up, Mark?”

“I always knew that Bilal and you were friends. I just didn't say nothing.”

“Get the fuck outta here! How you know that?” I asked him, amazed that he knew of our friendship.

“You gotta finish law school to learn that, Jovan. Look, you need a ride?”

“Naw, I think I'ma go catch a cab, walk around a little, get some peace of mind and fresh air.”

“Okay, buddy. I'll see you around. Take care, and finish school, man.”

“Okay, Mark.”

As Mark left and got in his car, I took off my tie and glasses and started walking down the street. Damn, I'd done killed six mu'fuckas—well, seven—who truly deserved it, and I got away with it. Damn, I lived a lie—a good lie, my best lie ever.

As I got to the curb to hold my thumb out for a taxi, a black limousine pulled up. The light was green, but the limo stopped. As the window rolled down, I still wasn't paying attention, until I heard a voice.

“Looking for somebody?”

Sonya was smiling the brightest smile I'd ever seen. I immediately jumped in the limo, and we started kissing as the limo pulled off. She told me what she did for me, and I knew I had the perfect one.

“Baby, we lived a lie,” Sonya said to me.

“I know, Sonya. A good lie.”

“Naw, boo, a bad lie.”

“Yeah, baby, a vicious lie.”

I put my finger on Sonya's lips to tell her to keep quiet, and I said to her, “It was a cruel lie, Sonya, but yet it was told in silence!”

After they left the courthouse, Jovan and Sonya went past Grandma's and got the suitcases with the three million, sold the 850 BMW, but kept the jewelry. Then they went to Sonya's and got all of her things, sold her car, packed up, and headed to Atlanta.

Now they were Mr. and Mrs. Jovan and Kia Price, the proud parents of an eighteen-month-old boy named Jovan Jr. They had a seven-bedroom house worth seven hundred thousand, and three cars: a burgundy Range Rover 4.6SE, a green 500SL Mercedes-Benz, and the new black 600S V12 Mercedes-Benz coupe.

Jovan went back to school for two years. He passed the bar exam in Atlanta, and now he was the youngest person ever to have his own law firm.

Kia was doing modeling and had a string of hair salons all over Atlanta.

 

THE END