bring back a verdict of guilty for both murders. Bam’s sentencing date was scheduled for two weeks later. The jury had to decide whether to give him a life sentence or the death penalty. It didn’t make much difference to Bam. To Bam, life inside of prison was death. But he wasn’t going to cry about it. The way he looked at it, you do what you do and you get what you get. That was all there was to it. He wouldn’t go out like a sucker in order for them to spare his life.
Although Bam had mistreated Isis, she was still willing to stand by her man. He had rescued her when she was being evicted and made sure that she had all the necessary funds to chase her dream, and like her daddy had said, “You gotta love who loves you.”
So at least Bam was alive and well, and that was more than she could ask for. So as long as Bam loved her, she was going to love him.
When Bam was first arrested, he sent her to his stash, which contained just over a half million dollars. After she paid for his lawyer, the investigator, money on his books, and some other expenses, there was still a pretty penny left.
It wasn’t that Isis had forgotten what Bam had done to her—she could never forget—but she had forgiven him. All couples had their problems; some were just larger than others. And although Bam had abused her, she was prepared to make his prison stay as comfortable as humanly possible, even if it meant paying a guard to turn his head while they snuck into the prison restroom to have sex. Maybe they would even make that baby that he had promised her that they would have when the time was right.
Bam told her that he loved her and that he would never cross her. He said that she had been his only true love from the first time that he had met her, and that she would be his only true love until the day he died. In return, Isis vowed that she would stay faithful to him until the bitter end, much like the promise she had made to Dave when he was sentenced to death.
Chapter 8
The Motherfucking Ring
Not knowing her man’s destiny caused Isis to have many sleepless nights. On the day of Bam’s sentencing, she ended her fight with the bed by throwing in the towel and getting up to get dressed. After she got her gear on, she hit the road early enough to stop for breakfast. The traffic on the highway was as slow as a snail going up a San Francisco hill, but she arrived at the courthouse at 8:55.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a guard yelled, “empty out your pockets of change and any metal objects. Cell phones are not permitted in the courtroom. We are not allowed to keep them at the desk, so if you have one, take it to your car now. It’ll save us the trouble of having to pat you down twice, and save you from having to stand in line wasting time.” He recited his spiel as if it were a nursery rhyme.
Though long, the line moved quickly. In fact, the lady in front of Isis couldn’t get everything out of her pockets fast enough with her son on her hip. The woman caught her attention for several reasons. First, she was there unescorted with a baby, so she was fairly certain that the lady was there for the same reason as she: to witness the fate of her man, who was probably her baby’s father. Second, she felt sorry when she saw the lady struggling with her baby, a Gucci diaper bag, and a Gucci purse, which matched her and her child’s Gucci sneakers.
Are kids even supposed to be in the courtroom?
The thought ran through Isis’s mind as she smiled at how the mother was holding it all down.
That’s the shit we do, that superwoman shit, whatever we have to do to make shit happen for our men. Now that’s the part that Maya missed in her poem “Phenomenal Woman
,” she thought.
The last reason was the jewelry that the lady sported. Isis had a habit of peeping fly jewels; it didn’t matter if it was on a person walking down the street, in a magazine, or in the window of a jewelry store. All of the girl’s pieces were immaculate. The
Although Bam had mistreated Isis, she was still willing to stand by her man. He had rescued her when she was being evicted and made sure that she had all the necessary funds to chase her dream, and like her daddy had said, “You gotta love who loves you.”
So at least Bam was alive and well, and that was more than she could ask for. So as long as Bam loved her, she was going to love him.
When Bam was first arrested, he sent her to his stash, which contained just over a half million dollars. After she paid for his lawyer, the investigator, money on his books, and some other expenses, there was still a pretty penny left.
It wasn’t that Isis had forgotten what Bam had done to her—she could never forget—but she had forgiven him. All couples had their problems; some were just larger than others. And although Bam had abused her, she was prepared to make his prison stay as comfortable as humanly possible, even if it meant paying a guard to turn his head while they snuck into the prison restroom to have sex. Maybe they would even make that baby that he had promised her that they would have when the time was right.
Bam told her that he loved her and that he would never cross her. He said that she had been his only true love from the first time that he had met her, and that she would be his only true love until the day he died. In return, Isis vowed that she would stay faithful to him until the bitter end, much like the promise she had made to Dave when he was sentenced to death.
Chapter 8
The Motherfucking Ring
Not knowing her man’s destiny caused Isis to have many sleepless nights. On the day of Bam’s sentencing, she ended her fight with the bed by throwing in the towel and getting up to get dressed. After she got her gear on, she hit the road early enough to stop for breakfast. The traffic on the highway was as slow as a snail going up a San Francisco hill, but she arrived at the courthouse at 8:55.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a guard yelled, “empty out your pockets of change and any metal objects. Cell phones are not permitted in the courtroom. We are not allowed to keep them at the desk, so if you have one, take it to your car now. It’ll save us the trouble of having to pat you down twice, and save you from having to stand in line wasting time.” He recited his spiel as if it were a nursery rhyme.
Though long, the line moved quickly. In fact, the lady in front of Isis couldn’t get everything out of her pockets fast enough with her son on her hip. The woman caught her attention for several reasons. First, she was there unescorted with a baby, so she was fairly certain that the lady was there for the same reason as she: to witness the fate of her man, who was probably her baby’s father. Second, she felt sorry when she saw the lady struggling with her baby, a Gucci diaper bag, and a Gucci purse, which matched her and her child’s Gucci sneakers.
Are kids even supposed to be in the courtroom?
The thought ran through Isis’s mind as she smiled at how the mother was holding it all down.
That’s the shit we do, that superwoman shit, whatever we have to do to make shit happen for our men. Now that’s the part that Maya missed in her poem “Phenomenal Woman
,” she thought.
The last reason was the jewelry that the lady sported. Isis had a habit of peeping fly jewels; it didn’t matter if it was on a person walking down the street, in a magazine, or in the window of a jewelry store. All of the girl’s pieces were immaculate. The
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