Page 3 of Rhyot & Nyelle
The two ladies stared each other down for a few seconds before Nyelle rolled her eyes and gave in, sticking her handsthrough the slot. Nyelle was handcuffed before the officer opened her cell and shackled her ankles as well.
On the ride over to the courthouse, Nyelle’s stomach twisted in knots. She didn’t know whether she had to shit or throw up but there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach and it didn’t feel good. This caused her to say a silent prayer, asking God to get her out of this. If he did, she’d turn her back on street life.
The van came to a stop at what she assumed was the courthouse. She wasn’t able to see due to there being no windows on the van. The rest was pretty much a blur as she was escorted from the van to the side entrance of the courthouse and went up the stairs into the courtroom. She briefly looked around until she spotted a familiar face, Neeya. Her sister’s eyes lit up a little as they made eye contact. Neeya mouthed the words “Are you okay?”
Nyelle shook her head solemnly and mouthed back “No” as the tears she had been holding in threatened to spill. Not only had she fucked up but in a way she felt like she’d dragged her family into the bullshit as well.
The bailiff took over and walked Nyelle to the defendant’s table, telling her to sit tight as an older Black gentleman approached. He was well dressed in a tailored black and gray three-piece suit carrying a black leather briefcase with gold trim. He looked like money, and more importantly, smelled like it too.
She looked over her shoulder at Neeya whose expression was unreadable. She turned back around and refocused her attention on the man as he finally spoke.
“Hi, Ms. Collins, how are you?” he greeted with a warm smile as he opened his briefcase and pulled out a folder bearing her name.
“Hey,” she responded, unsure of who he was and how he knew her name.
“I’m your attorney, Ivan Powell.”
“Wait a minute, where is the lady at? I don’t have money for a lawyer… where did you come from?” Nyelle rattled off questions. She was confused as she knew her family didn’t have any funds, especially for a paid attorney.
“Let’s just say a friend of yours paid the retainer and told me to ensure I’d get you out of this, Boogs.” As soon as the words escaped his lips, it all became clear.
That damn Rhyot.
Nyelle couldn’t have been more grateful for him at that moment. She could also count on him to come through when her back was against the wall. Before she could ask about Rhyot, they were interrupted.
“All rise, the Honorable Judge Whitaker presiding.” Everyone in the courtroom stood until they were prompted to be seated. The judge read out official charges: grand larceny and armed robbery, which made Nyelle’s knees buckle. Niggas in the hood often spoke about these charges, and in most cases, the sentences were heavy. Nyelle wasn’t built for no damn jail.
The prosecutor wasted no time asking for no bail due to the level of the charges, which Nyelle thought was absurd. They claimed Nyelle and Rhyot were a danger to society. Her defense was quickly able to argue on her behalf and she was impressed. He was damn sure worth the money. The judge ruled and let her out on personal recognizance and assigned her to pre-trial probation.
Chapter
Three
Three YearsLater
Rhyot had been pissed off from the moment the cops slapped the handcuffs on him. He was definitely in his head about everything leading up to the arrest. The only thing adding up in his mind was that he had been set up and all fingers pointed to Chop, especially after seeing the plea agreement. The fact that the BBs still rocked with Chop afterward put a sour taste in Rhyot’s mouth and he made the decision to denounce his association with the Bedford Boys. Chop had definitely pulled some snake ass shit that could never be forgiven and Rhy wanted nothing more than to put hands and feet on Chop sooner rather than later. That nigga told Rhy the drop would be a quick “snatch and grab”, meanwhile the whole time the jakes were waiting in the cut like they had already known Rhyot and Nyelle were going to be there that night.
Rhyot was hip to the shit now. Not only had Chop ratted on him to save his own ass and get Rhy out the way, but he kept all of the profit from the licks they had run that week. Rhyot heard through the grapevine about how Chop had been flashing money,hismoney, all up and through the hood. He boughtbogus ass jewels and had copped a new whip while moving around the city like he wasn’t walking with a target on his back.
That shit was like spitting in Rhyot’s face. The nigga was moving like he was invincible, like Rhyot wasn’t gon’ touch back down and ask about his funds. Well now he had fucked up. ’Cause now that Rhyot was free, not only did he want his money… he wanted revenge.
Rhy had tucked away a nice amount of change before he got arrested. Once he was released, he used those funds to get himself together. He set himself up in a nice little condo in the cut, a stark contrast to the bricks Rhyot grew up in. Rhyot drove through the city with his windows down, letting the night air brush against his face as his mind spun with all types of murderous thoughts. He had gotten the drop from his cousin Weez about the whereabouts of Chop’s bitch ass. He was posted up in the shitty, run down apartments on Barlow Street. As Rhyot drove into the projects, he noticed it was still live, like they had been every night before he got incarcerated. Dice games were in rotation, niggas smoking and chopping it up, hoes in every other nigga’s face trying to be seen meanwhile their bad ass kids ran around like it wasn’t late as fuck. Rhy was on a mission and didn’t have time to stop and talk to muthafuckas. He did, however, acknowledge a few of the BB’s with a nod.
His eyes scanned the vicinity until they zeroed in on his target, causing an evil grin to spread across his face.
Look at this bitch ass nigga. He thinks shits sweet, Rhyot thought to himself as he eyed Chop who stood on the stoop with two raggedy hood rats, cheesing and laughing without a care in the world.I got something for his dumb ass. Rhyot clutched the 9mm in his black hoodie as he made his way closer.
“So when you gon’ come by the house?” one of the chicks asked boldly as she brushed her hands down Chop’s chest, gently pushing him flirtatiously.
“Whenever the fuck you stop playing games, ma. I already told you that,” he growled lowly as he towered over her. Meanwhile, she stared up at him as he pulled her into his arms. The girl was dressed in a crop top that showcased her entire stomach and a pair of jean shorts so tight I could’ve sworn the button was about to pop. Her friend stood off to the side nursing a blunt in her hand. Deciding to finally make his presence known, Rhyot spoke.
“Chop!” Rhyot called out, causing Chop and the chicks he was with to turn in his direction. The one nursing the blunt wore a scowl on her face but she knew better than to say shit. Rhyot was no longer apart of the gang but he was still that nigga in Diamond Falls whose name rang bells, even while incarcerated.
The girl who was once cozied up with Chop slid out of his arms and stepped back a little as she watched the energy shift. Rhyot ice grilled Chop and he noticed the chill laid back demeanor Chop once had disappeared. Chop tried to quickly pull it together and flash a smile at Rhyot, like he was happy to see him, but Rhy had already read him.
Chop quickly said something to the hood booger he was with and she sucked her teeth before grabbing her friend’s hand. They walked off together in the direction of where the BBs were hanging out.
Once they were alone, Rhy clasped his hands one over the other and waited for Chop to plead his case like the bitch ass punk Rhyot knew he was.
