Chapter Nine
Kapri
Once out in the hall, I hoped the crowds that filled all the various courtrooms on that floor had thinned out. Well, at least the ones that had me in their crosshairs. I was offered protection to my vehicle but turned down the offer. Thankfully with ease and no conflict, I slipped into the bathroom. I exhaled, finding it was empty. Without haste, I dipped into one of the stalls. I didn’t have to pee. But after hours of being front and center on display, I needed a moment of privacy to adjust my crown. It was awful seeing Nolan in those shackles. And it was growing even harder to go home without him by my side night after night. My husband wanted me to go home and live life for both of us, but how could I? He was my life. I was his strength, and he was my peace. I was devastated and a mess. I closed my eyes, asking God to give me the mental management to go on . . . well, at least what was needed to make it back to my truck without all the fanfare.
As I stood there gathering my thoughts, I felt a vibration. Seconds later, I felt it once more. Unzipping my purse, I soon saw the source. I shockingly discovered that the sheriffs had messed around in their hurriedness to get me through security and allowed my cell phone inside the building. What the hell. Shit, I’m glad they didn’t see this motherfucker, ’cause the way the female sheriff watching the monitor be hating on my ass, she would’ve tried to claim I was smuggling shit in to pass off to my husband.
I removed my phone from my purse with intentions to just power it off until I got outside of the courthouse building. Before I did so, out of habit, automatically, my manicured nails tapped that blue and white addictive icon. I checked my Facebook page to see if any pictures of me entering earlier had hit the local crime-reporting groups. Most times, they were faster than the mainstream media updating hood news.
Damn, there goes my peace.
Suddenly, I heard the bathroom door swing open. That was followed by the sounds of cheap heels dragging across the faux marble floor. Motionless, I couldn’t believe my luck. This was something out of a Lifetime movie. My expression turned from sugar to shit. As I stood in the stall with the closed door, I overheard that annoying voice. That hard-to-stomach voice belonged to the woman I had been forced to listen to smear my husband’s name.
Oh, hell naw, not this mud duck chick. I swear this day can’t get any worse. Ms. Campbell was on her cell, talking away. Dumbly, the cocky-mouthed whore didn’t bother to see or even care if anyone else was inside of the bathroom. Absorbed in what she thought was a private conversation between the other person and her, the bad-weave vulture had mines and my names dripping off her fiery tongue. Listen to this ho talking this garbage. She outta her shit. I swear hoes be fake as hell with it. There was no point or a great rush to make myself known. I had nowhere to go but back home to an empty house that this bitch was trying to make a permanent situation. Quietly with my cell in hand, I leaned back and let Ms. Campbell’s talkative self go to town on hers.
“Yeah, sis, like I said, we just finished up for the afternoon. I thought this day was going to go on forever. . . . Yeah, I’m on the same case, that damn Nolan White.... Girl, yes, of course, that uppity bitch of his was there as always.... Yeah, trying to look all cute like her shit don’t stank.... Some tight-ass skirt suit with some of them Red Bottoms shoes on, probably fake. You know how them dope girls be pretending they have class.”
No, this young nothing-ass bitch didn’t! I wanted to check the dog shit outta her for running off at the mouth. But with a twisted face, I fought to stay quiet as she went into the very next stall. The nasty female didn’t even bother to wipe the seat off before plopping her fat ass down on the toilet.
“Sis, who you telling? I know, right? . . . Yeah . . . Yeah . . . Yup . . . Hell yeah, girl, you seen his picture all over the news and on social media. That man is fine as hell, shooter or not.... Yeah, even in them shackles, I made the judge keep on his wet-dream-making self.... Yeah, I know that was extra with the shackles, but so what? Yup, too bad he gotta go to jail ’cause if he wasn’t, I’d be all over that.... Yeah, girl, I bet his dick is long and thick.... Yeah, he married to her, but so what? You know how them dope boys roll.... Heck yeah, just like that other dude I ended up sexing before he got sent away. If him and me had not been fucking on the sly while he was out on bail, I would’ve slammed him hard too.... But that tongue of his was too good to keep locked away forever.... Yeah, sis, you can call me crazy all you want, but it is what it is....
“Naw, seriously, though, on this Nolan White case, you know I doubled down on the facts with him. You know we have to stretch the truth sometimes. Hell, even lie to prevent taking an L, especially where that generational monster is involved. He got this time of lockup coming for what he did. Besides, you know how the conviction game goes. These jury members are mostly uneducated, slow, and need a little coaxing.”
I couldn’t resist any longer. I’d heard just about enough. For days on end, this woman had been more than disrespectful when depicting my man, me, and our entire existence. And here she was on the other side of this partition showing her true feelings, wishing she could low-key give my hubby that musty pussy of hers. And worse, she’d talked about how she’d lied and even falsified evidence to get defendants locked up. Sadly, my man was not the first and probably wouldn’t be the last if she had her way. Well, now, it was time for me to show her my true feelings. Now, I would show her what was really good in the hood and expose that corrupt ass.
Patiently, I waited for the supposedly “educated” monster to finish her call. After listening to her pee, then flush the toilet, I timed my next move perfectly. With a huge smile plastered on my face, I opened the stall door the same time she opened hers. She and I both stepped out in unison, then paused. Me in my black tailored suit, perfect hair, flawless makeup, and, of course, those expensive, black patent leather Red Bottoms pumps that had Ms. Thang so bothered. And her, looking like a tired-face baby elephant with a synthetic, poorly styled wig on and a dress off a Family Dollar rack. We stood side by side, facing a huge, lighted mirror. However, as you can just about imagine, only one of us was smiling. And boom! Just like that, there it was. There was my payback for the weeklong disrespect of me and mines. Every false accusation geared toward my husband, every condescending gaze in my direction, and apparently, every time she wished she was getting the dick that belonged to me… The expression on her face was priceless.
“Heyyyy, homegirl, long time no damn see,” I sarcastically grinned while quickly admiring how white my teeth looked in the mirror.
“Oh my God—you!” Her eyes widened, ready to pop out of her head. She looked as if someone had just punched her dead in the stomach, and she was gasping for air. I guess that flip talk mouth she’d had all this week was now dry as her jaw dropped open. The wanna-be superstar prosecutor’s abrupt silence didn’t bother me one bit. Besides, after all she’d said, it was now my time to be heard.
“Yeah, it’s me. Imagine that? But now that we’re here, well, damn, Ms. Campbell, where do I begin with you? I mean, so, yeah, you real funny with your ole peculiar-built ass,” I started as I opened my purse, removing my lipstick and dropping my cell inside. “I’m not mad at you or even surprised that you think I’m a bitch. Most women that look like you do feel that way. So, yeah, I’m good with that title.” I made sure the glossy color was perfect as well as my eyeliner.
Still very much shocked that she and I were even standing side by side, she struggled to speak. “Excuse me, but—”
I cut her off. Like I said, her time to shine was over. “Girl, don’t even attempt to try me. I ain’t deaf, and I know you just didn’t forget that quick what you said.” I chuckled at her expense. “Trust me, I already knew you thought my husband was fine as shit. We laughed about you wanting him. Matter of fact, he, our lawyer, and I all joked about the bullshit. But, girl, bye. That’s old news to me. Plenty of females shoot they shot at my man. But him and me, we solid. See, I’m good with another title you will probably never have, and that’s wife.” Finally, I turned to face her as I proudly waved my ring finger. Damn this ho ugly this close up.
“But I—” Once more, she tried interrupting me while adjusting her cheap floral print dress. But I was having no part of that. As she stood there insecure about her appearance, she was going to hear me speak my piece.
“Please shut the fuck up, your ass is in my courtroom now, and you’s straight outta order,” I eagerly mocked the shell-shocked female.
Dumbfounded, the usually talk-a-mile-a-minute woman stood mute as she was now in the hot seat. “And, oh my God, since you was wondering, yes, girl. My husband’s dick is extralong and very thick. And all that shit you was saying to whoever was on the phone, you probably can’t ride it like you just said because my bae is wild with it. You don’t seem like you can take all that shit he got dangling between his legs. All of that bullshit you was just talking is just that—talk.”
I was going in hard on the youngest prosecutor in the city’s history, but she definitely had it coming. And I was far from finished. I dropped my lipstick back in my purse and continued. “You got so much foul bullshit to say about my pretty ass, but the one thing you not gonna go around saying is that my motherfucking shoes is fake!” I paused my speech once more, reading her holier-than-thou ass. Like I was a shoe model, I floss profiled my heels. “’Cause see these right here? Like everything a bitch like me wears, is official and top of the line.”
Giving me the ultimate stank face, I gladly returned the favor. I wished Ms. Campbell made me come out even more of my character, but she knew better. I don’t know if it were that the woman was scared that I would take her head off her body or if it was that she knew she was in the wrong. Whatever the case was, I continued to make it apparent today was that day, and I had time for it. I stuck my hand damn near up in her face, touching her nose with the center stone of my ring.
“And this right here . . . that killer’s dick you wanna have a taste of so badly got a whole damn wife, booboo. One that gives zero fucks about going to jail. So, please, in the future, wanna-be home wrecker, show some respect. And if you think that was a threat, let’s be clear, baby girl, it was!”
Finally, Ms. Campbell swallowed the lump in her throat and found the words to speak. Putting on, she tried to act as if I had misheard what she said or her true intentions. The guilt and shame were apparent as she stumbled over every word. That confident, long-winded-speech woman was suddenly reduced to broken sentences and short statements. The paid coon for the white man’s justice couldn’t look me in the eye. I found that part amusing, especially since she’d been mean-muggin’ me since the trial had started. But, whatever. Yeah, I could have ended my rant then, but, nope, that would be too much like right. I wanted the slut to explain what she’d said about fucking guys she was prosecuting, making up false evidence, and how she could manipulate the jury. I waited a few seconds for her response to all of those things she’d recklessly bragged about. However, she couldn’t and didn’t. How could anyone clean up all of that?
I was done. I’d proven my point that just because I was “Married to the Shooter” didn’t mean she could treat me like shit. And just so she’d never forget our impromptu meeting, before leaving the bathroom, to her astonishment, I took my cell back out of my purse. She didn’t have the nerve to inquire how I’d gotten my phone inside of the courthouse in the first place. And at this point, it didn’t matter to her, but momentarily, it definitely would. With a smirk of satisfaction, I tapped the video icon. Eagerly, I then pushed play, hoping my Android had done its job. The recorded sounds of portions of the once-thought-private conversation clearly bounced off the walls. She knew her voice was distinctive and easily recognizable. Her expression was invaluable.
She placed one hand on the sink for support as the whore’s knees seemed to buckle, knowing she was about to take a major L. No matter how qualified she thought she was in the courtroom, I was levels above her in this revenge bullshit. Over the years, it’d become my thang, so to speak. But this? This right here was the icing on the cake. After being forced to hold my tongue for days, I was taking every opportunity before someone came into the bathroom to interrupt us to clear the air and have my say. I was going ham with it.
“So, yeah, homegirl, you might wanna figure out how to help my falsely accused man out some. I think it’d be in both our best interests. Don’t you? And for real, for real, I don’t know why you going so damn hard anyway.” I openly puzzled what her angle could be. “You getting paid an extra bonus or something? But whatever you trying to prove, do it with the next case and the next Negro, ’cause mine has just become special, and the clock is ticking on this real-ass Rolex.”
“Say what, huh? What do you mean, Kapri?” Ms. Campbell awkwardly asked, her eyes wide open, looking as if she were about to break out in tears.
“Kapri? Are you fucking serious right now? Don’t call me that. We ain’t friends. It’s Mrs. White to you.” Kapri gave her the stank face and the “Bitch, who in the fuck do you think you are?” expression all rolled into one. “And second, you think they got me and mines on blast in the news every night? Wait till they get wind of you and your bullshit.”
“Look, hold up.” She was ready to try once again to take a cop.
“Naw, Ms. Campbell, you hold up. See, the bottom line is the next time we meet, either my man goes free, or you can be prepared to be locked up right alongside him. The choice is yours.”
Throughout the trial, Prosecutor Campbell seemed pretty clever. So I know she could figure out what was on the line. She’d fucked up royally. And now, she’d have to face some of those hard-line consequences she was so hell-bent on my husband dealing with. Smugly, I never gave her another chance to respond to what I was suggesting, or should I say, demanding. And I never looked back when I strutted out of the bathroom door. I’d let her live with all of what just had happened, at least for the time being. The job she loved so much, as well as her freedom, was now in jeopardy if I blasted her in the media. She’d be disbarred and possibly arrested. This woman made a living embarrassing and humiliating suspects and their families for making mistakes. Now, it was her time to take the walk of shame and at least wonder who might find out her dirty little secrets.
Although my husband may have been guilty in the eyes of the law, they had no idea whatsoever where he came from and the type of shit he endured growing up. My man was mentally damaged, but the team of prosecutors, the judge, and no one else truly cared the way I did. All they wanted was a conviction. But now, there was a chance for us to be soon reunited because this big-mouthed bitch was cooked.