Chapter 9
“Taking the Law into Your Own Hands”
Lisa
The color bark brown does my body good in this suit, I thought, admiring myself in my full-length mirror. It’s a shame this is the first time I’ve ever worn it. I was dressed professionally with a touch of sexiness. I had to have my boobies hanging out just a little. Give them a little glimpse of what they can’t have.
Before I left my apartment, I dabbed Versace Blue Jeans perfume behind my ears and my neck. I got a glimpse of my ass as I walked off. Hell, if I didn’t go super-duper psycho on Touch, he’d still be giving it to me from the back. That nigga was only good for sex, which was what I craved.
When I walked into the courtroom, the most important eyes I cared about was Touch’s. I wanted him to see what he had created and pay for what he had done. No one fucking hits me and gets away with it. He didn’t even have the decency to apologize to me. That would have eliminated most of this. On top of that, his dumb ass had made it worse by antagonizing me and breaking into my house. I wanted him to get on his knees to beg for mercy and for my forgiveness. I fell asleep easily at night, knowing Touch wouldn’t sleep as he constantly thought about what his new life would be like behind bars.
When I arrived in the courtroom the district attorney with his tuna fish breath pulled me to the side. He wanted to go over some last-minute details. I didn’t listen to a word he was saying. I was searching the courtroom for Touch, who was nowhere to be found.
“All rise,” the bailiff announced. “The Honorable
J.B. Gordon.”
I was glad this show was finally starting. I was hoping Touch would be the first to go before the judge, so he could be the first to go to jail. I knew the look on his face would be priceless as soon as the judge announced his guilty verdict. And, after it was all said and done, I had plans to visit him in jail just to laugh and gawk in his face. He had to learn he’d fucked with the wrong one. There was no way he could get away with what he did to me. Touch treated me as if I was a piece of shit. No man had treated me like that, and I wasn’t about to allow a man to treat me like that. I had been sitting on the court bench for over two hours, and my case still hadn’t been called. Getting impatient, I looked at my watch. It was eleven-fifteen, and I still hadn’t seen Touch. For a minute, I’d begun to think he’d bucked on court and decided to be on the run and leech off another chick, like he’d done me.
I decided to give him another fifteen minutes to show. No such luck. I gathered my things. I wanted to check the docket to be sure I was in the right courtroom.
Just as I was about to stand, the court doors opened, and Touch and his attorney walked through the doors like they owned the place. Touch was decked out in a suit. He walked toward the front of the courtroom with his hot-shot attorney. Our eyes met, and he looked away immediately. He was trying hard not to look my way. I knew he saw me because I was sitting at the end of the bench, near the aisle. I figured he was still pretty pissed off about the baby doll incident and our last altercation at my house.
We weren’t called until after the lunch break. Sitting through all that court bullshit wasn’t fun at all. And I was anxious to get it over with.
“The Commonwealth calls Lisa Platow to the stand,” the bailiff said.
I stood up and walked to the stand like I was walking the runway in Fashion Week. I positioned myself on the witness stand then looked at Touch with piercing eyes. My eyes were glued on him when the bailiff said his spiel about telling the truth, nothing but the truth, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I agreed and even nodded my head. But I was agreeing to tell my own version of the truth. Like they say, it’s three sides to every story, your side, my side and the truth.
“Ms. Platow, would you explain to the court how you received your wounds?” the Commonwealth’s Attorney asked.
“The defendant, Trayvon Davis, beat me, punched me, and kicked me, eventually causing me to have a busted nose,” I explained through cries. The night before I’d rehearsed this part over and over in the bathroom mirror, hoping the judge would believe me.
“Is this the first time you have been abused by the defendant?”
“No, it isn’t.” I pulled a handkerchief from my purse and wiped my tears.
“How often would this occur?” The Commonwealth’s Attorney was setting it up to go in for the kill.
“He would assault me in some form at least once a week. The simplest things would trigger it. If the defendant had a bad day or I did something that he didn’t like, then he would punish me,” I lied.
“No further questions, Your Honor.”
Next, it was Touch’s lawyer’s turn to question me. I knew he was about to attempt to dig into my ass, but I was determined not to lose my cool. The last thing I wanted to do was appear as the mad black woman I knew he was gonna try to make me out to be.
“Ms. Platow, how many times have you filed a police report for these so-called occurrences of domestic violence?”
“I’m not sure,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders.
“Well, maybe I can help you out. The only police report I see is the one recently filed along with your stolen vehicle. Never once, prior to this incident, did it mention physical violence. Nor did you go to the hospital. There are no hospital reports at all.” Touch’s lawyer was really making me out to be a liar.
“I told the cop what happened to me. What more do you expect? I was afraid to call the police prior to this incident, and I was too ashamed to go to the hospital.” My palms had suddenly become sweaty.
“Ms. Platow, it’s clear to me that you’re just a scorned woman trying to get back at a man who you’re in love but who’s not in love with you.”
This lawyer was getting under my skin. Because I was afraid what may come out of my mouth, I remained silent, but I was sure my thoughts were written all over my face as I rolled my eyes.
“Your Honor, based on the huge lack of physical evidence, I move to dismiss this case. This case is frivolous and an obvious fraud.” Touch’s lawyer walked away. “Ms. Platow, you may step down,” the judge ordered.
As I started to walk back to my seat, I realized I had just lost this battle. My hands couldn’t stop shaking, not to mention my sweaty palms. Before taking my seat, I cut my eyes at Touch one last time, who sat calmly with a smirk across his face. The mere sight of his smug little ass made my blood boil.
“Please rise for the verdict,” the judge announced.
I listened as the judge announced a not guilty verdict for the assault charge and guilty for the stolen vehicle charge. He was sentenced to one year supervised probation. I couldn’t believe my ears. Even if Touch was found not guilty on the assault charge, I at least expected him to get time for stealing my damn car.
I grabbed my purse and began to storm out of the courtroom. I met Touch at the courtroom door. “After you,” he said then began to laugh.
“Fuck you, Touch!” I yelled, totally losing my mind.
That laugh in my face was the last straw. I took off my five-inch stiletto heels and started beating Touch with it. I got in a few good jabs in his dick and face. Before I knew it, he had begun to bleed, and the bailiff was all over me. Before he was able to pry me off him, I’d managed to bite Touch in the face. The bailiff had saved him this time, but it wasn’t over. This was just the beginning. I had it in for Touch, and he was gonna pay. I’d decided to take justice into my own hands. After I made bail and got myself out for contempt of court. Now I was doubly pissed.