Heartbreak of a Hustler's Wife: A Novel by Nikki Turner Read Free Book Online Page A

trigger. The man she had almost forgotten about until he waltzed into the courtroom. She peered into his eyes one more time, searching for any sign of recollection, and saw nothing but fear and urgency for his girlfriend.
    Yarni acknowledged her client, who looked like a womaneager to be restored to the rightful place in the free world, and Tangaleena smiled at Yarni in return.
    Prosecutor Lawrence Little III stood to his full height of 5′7″, straightened his yellow tie, then cleared his throat before speaking. “The state recommends that the defendant be remanded into the state’s custody without bond, Your Honor.”
    Underneath her breath, Yarni quipped, “I bet the state does.”
    Yarni and this particular prosecuting attorney had never gotten along and had been through more than their share of heated litigation battles. Yarni was well aware that Little hated her guts. Aside from him being a male chauvinist, he felt like she wasn’t worthy of having a law degree. Let Little tell it—and he did every chance he got—he was sure that Des was still involved in some type of criminal activity. How else could a black man that wasn’t an entertainer or professional athlete afford to buy a Bentley? Where would he get money to start up an exotic car dealership the moment he was released from prison? And birds of a feather flocked together, as far as Little was concerned. Which made Mrs. Yarnise Taylor guilty by association. He lived for the day when he could prove his theories and convict Des. That would truly make his dick hard. But he wouldn’t climax until he found a way to have Yarni disbarred.
    Yarni welcomed the opportunity to once again defeat Little but she was starting to have second thoughts about the case. If the guy she knew as Bug was her client’s boyfriend, and he remembered that she had shot him, things could get complicated. Surely it was a conflict of interest that could come back to bite her later, she thought. She decided she’d shoot for the bond, spanking the prosecutor, then dismiss herself from the case.
    “Your Honor, my client has lived in the Richmond area her entire life. She is the sole support for her four-year-old daughter and has no reason, nor any desire, to skip her obligation of attending trial. In fact,” Yarni added, “she relishes the opportunity to clear her name of these undeserving charges.” Then she turned to and peered over at her courtroom nemesis with professional courtesy. To no one’s surprise, Prosecutor Little wasn’t done yet.
    “Ms. Londers,” Little started again, “is a career criminal who was once connected to the infamous Waltz-Londers Gang that terrorized the south side of Richmond just a few years back. These people were known for using violence and intimidation, as casually as you and I put our shoes and socks on in the morning.”
    “This is ridiculous, Judge.” Yarni folded her arms as she stood, when Little had finished. “The trial of the Waltz-Londers Gang, as they were labeled by the media, took place nearly twenty years ago. That would have made my client about five or six years old. Clearly Prosecutor Little is exaggerating, or delusional, or both. Her connection, as Mr. Little put it, is nonexistent. Because of my client’s last name, Mr. Little has essentially handcuffed her to the ghost of Richmond’s past in an attempt to paint a picture that just doesn’t exist.” Yarni had everyone’s attention. “Moreover—”
    The judge interrupted. “I’ve heard enough, Counselors.” She looked over Tangaleena’s rap sheet. “Ms. Londers, I see you’ve got some anger issues—however, I think we may be able to agree on an equitable outcome based on what I’ve heard. How about I set a bond at fifty thousand dollars, and—”
    “With all due respect, Judge Fairchild,” Yarni voiced her opinion, “fifty thousand may be a bit excessive given the circumstances.”
    “Your client is a,” Little interrupted, speaking over Yarni, “your