Chapter 10 #3
“Here is where the male driver exits the vehicle and makes physical contact with my client first, grabbing him by the throat. At this point my client is acting entirely within the legal definition of Defense of Others under Texas Penal Code Section 9.33, which states that a person is justified in using force to protect a third person if a reasonable person in that situation would believe that intervention was immediately necessary. Also take into account that he was physically assaulted himself.” He paused.
“What followed was my client using force to stop an ongoing assault. The complainant in this case is the same man who was assaulting his girlfriend and who physically initiated contact with my client. The woman who filed the report was not the victim of my client’s actions — she was the victim of her partner’s actions prior to my client’s involvement. ”
Judge Owens was watching the footage on the screen with her reading glasses on and her hands folded.
Legal switched to the next piece. The cell phone video from inside the car.
“This is the footage that circulated online and that formed the basis of the warrant. Taken from inside the vehicle by the girlfriend. I want to direct your attention to the timestamp which confirms this is continuous with the gas station footage and that the sequence of events is exactly as I have described.”
He let both pieces of footage speak for themselves and then he turned back to the judge.
“Your Honor, my client has no prior felony convictions. He is twenty two years old, the oldest of three siblings, and has been the primary financial support for his family since childhood. He is not a danger to this community. He made a decision in a moment to help someone who needed help and he is now sitting in your courtroom because of it.” Legal paused.
“I am requesting that the charges be reduced from Aggravated Assault — a second degree felony — to Simple Assault, Class A Misdemeanor, with a sentence of deferred adjudication probation. If my client completes the terms of that probation successfully, he will carry no conviction on his permanent record.”
Judge Owens looked at Legal over her glasses. Then she looked at me.
“Mr. Hendrix,” she said. “Stand up.”
I stood.
She looked at me for a long moment the way judges looked at people when they were trying to read something that wasn’t in the paperwork.
“I’ve reviewed the evidence your attorney has presented and I’ve reviewed your background.
No prior felonies. No history of predatory violence.
” She set her pen down. “What I do see is a young man who has been using his hands in environments and situations that are going to keep putting him in front of judges if he doesn’t make a different choice.
” She leaned forward slightly. “Your attorney tells me you have a gift. That you can fight and that you’ve been doing it since you were old enough to make a fist. Is that accurate? ”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Then here is what this court is prepared to offer you. I will accept the reduction to Simple Assault with deferred adjudication. Your probation period will be eighteen months. During those eighteen months you will submit to regular check ins, you will stay out of trouble completely, and—” She looked at her paperwork and then back at me.
“You will enroll in and actively participate in a licensed professional boxing program within thirty days of today’s date.
Your participation and progress will be documented and submitted to this court quarterly.
Community service hours will be logged through the gym.
” She sat back. “You complete those terms, this comes off your record. You violate any one of them, we’re back in this courtroom and you will be looking at the original charge.
” She looked at me steady. “Do you understand what I’m offering you Mr. Hendrix? ”
“Yes ma’am. I understand.”
“Good.” She made a note. “Don’t make me regret it.”
I let out the longest breath that I didn’t even know I was holding.
My charges had been reduced and will be removed if I legally register my hands.
I knew that meant I could no longer street fight, but I wasn’t willing to do whatever it took so that I won’t be locked the fuck up.
Once again, Legal had came through. My pops knew exactly what he was doing by leaving me in the hands of this man. He was really an angel in disguise.
Legal and I walked out of that courthouse into the afternoon and stood on the steps. I pulled the outside air into my lungs and let it sit there for a second.
Legal put his hand on my shoulder and steered me toward the parking lot and waited until we were away from the foot traffic before he said anything.
“I need you to understand something,” he said.
“What happened in that courtroom today, that was the best possible outcome for the situation you were in. Judge Owens did not have to be that generous and the only reason she was is because the evidence supported it and because I have spent twenty years building a reputation in that courtroom that she trusts.” He stopped walking and turned to face me.
“I cannot do that again Xavier. The next time something like this lands in front of a judge I will not have the same tools to work with. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you Legal. I really do and I’m grateful.”
“The street fighting is done. All of it. Every underground fight, every cage, every backroom situation. Done. Completely. As of today.” He said it flat and final the way pops, Hood probably would have said something that needed to stick.
“If you violate that probation, if you get caught in another one of those environments, it’s not a misdemeanor we’re dealing with.
It becomes a violation that opens everything back up and you are looking at real time. ”
I nodded.
He studied my face for a moment making sure it was landing the way it needed to.
“You have something that most men would trade everything they have for,” he said.
“You know that. I know that. Your father knew that before you were old enough to know it yourself.” He paused on Hood’s name the way he always paused on it.
Like he was being careful with it. “Hood had the same hands you have. Same natural gift. He just never had somebody put him in the right room at the right time.” He looked at me straight.
“I’m putting you in that room. I have a gym on the north side that I plan to open soon.
The last of the renovation are just getting fixed and finished.
I’m naming it Hendrix Boxing, after your father.
I wanted to surprise you boys with it at the opening, but we gone skip all that now.
I’ve been wanting to give the youth something to focus on so they won’t end up out here street fighting.
I haven’t had the time to finalize opening and all of that. My case load has been hectic.
I have a trainer there named Coach Ray who has taken three fighters to professional title fights.
He’s expecting you Monday morning.” He put his hand on my shoulder again.
“You don’t have to play local anymore Xavier.
You could be the heavyweight champion of the world if you apply yourself the right way. I need you to believe that.”
I stood there in that parking lot outside that courthouse and let those words sit on me.
He’d done all of this in my father’s name and never bragged, boasted or even made the shit known.
He was a loyal ass friend. That’s what I loved about Legal.
He did everything at the kindness and love of his heart, not for bragging rights.
Heavyweight champion of the world.
I had been fighting my whole life. In streets, in cages, in situations that had nothing to do with building anything.
It had everything to do with surviving the next day.
And for the first time somebody who knew what they were talking about was standing in front of me telling me that everything I had been doing in the wrong direction could be pointed the right way.
I thought about Melo and Mazi’s future. Eighteen years old with their whole futures in front of them because I had made sure of it.
I thought about my moms leaving the house before sunrise every morning her whole life just to provide for her boys because she was forced to be a single mother.
I thought about my pops dying in a parking lot at 27 years old before he ever got the chance to become what he was supposed to become.
I wasn’t about to waste what he left me.
“Monday morning,” I said.
Legal nodded.
“Monday morning.”
—
I got in my car outside the courthouse and sat there for a minute before I did anything else. After this, I needed Bri to know what happened and how blessed I’d just got. I picked up my phone and called Brielle before anybody else.
She answered on the third ring and didn’t say anything when she picked up. Just waited. That was her way of letting me know she still cared but was pissed and not talking to me still.
“I just left court,” I said. “I’m in the clear. It won’t go on my record.”
Silence for a second. Then she finally spoke. “What happened exactly.”
So I told her. The gas station, the woman getting hit, me stepping in, the girl turning on me after. I told her that Legal had gotten the charges reduced and negotiated a deal that kept my record clean as long as I stayed out of trouble and committed to professional boxing going forward.
She was quiet for a long moment after I finished.
“So it’s really over? All of it?” she said.
“The street fighting is over. All of it. I gave my word in that courtroom and I meant it.” I paused. “I’m doing things the right way from here Bri. For real this time. I’m not a monster and you know that. I’m just always in fucked up situations.”
Another silence. Longer than the last one.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said finally. Soft. The way she said things when she meant them more than she wanted to.
“I need to say something to you and I need you to just listen.” I looked out the windshield at the parking lot and said it before I could think myself out of it.
“I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time and I’ve never said it out loud because saying it out loud meant dealing with everything that comes with it and I wasn’t ready for that.
” I stopped. “I’m ready now. I’m not the same person I was two weeks ago and I’m not going back to that person.
” I took a breath. “I want you to come to my place tonight. Eight o’clock.
That’s all I’m asking. Just show up and let me show you who I’m trying to be.
If you come, that’s my answer that we at least have a chance. ”
She didn’t say anything for a long time.
“We’ll see.” she finally said.
And then she hung up.
—
I spent the rest of that afternoon doing something I hadn’t done in years.
I cooked.
My moms had taught me when I was young. It was nothing fancy, just real food made with intention — and I hadn’t had a reason to use any of that in a long time because cooking for yourself when you’re living the life I had been living felt like a waste of time and energy.
Tonight felt different. I cleaned my apartment, set my small table with the two chairs I barely used, put a bottle of red wine in the center that I had picked up on the way home.
I made pasta, a real salad, garlic bread.
Simple but put together with care. I hoped it said something about where my head was without me having to explain it.
I showered and got dressed. Not a suit, I wasn’t that type of nigga unless I was going to court or some shit. Just clean dark jeans and a fitted black shirt. Something that said I made an effort without overdoing it.
Then I sat down and waited.
Eight came.
I checked my phone. No message. No call.
Eight thirty.
I straightened things on the table that didn’t need straightening and told myself she was just running late and that Brielle had never been the most punctual person, but that didn’t mean anything.
Nine.
I poured myself a glass of the wine and sat back down.
Ten.
The food had been sitting long enough that it wasn’t what it was when I made it and I covered it anyway because letting go of it felt like letting go of something else.
Eleven.
I stopped checking my phone.
When midnight came and the apartment was still quiet I poured the rest of the wine into my glass and drank it slow. Then I looked at the table I had set for two people and sat with what that meant.
Not angry. Not even fully surprised if I was being honest with myself. Just tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.
I loved her. I had said it out loud for the first time in my life and meant every word of it and she hadn’t come.
That told me everything I needed to know.
I washed the dishes and put the food away, then took the bottle to the couch and finished what was left of it. I made a decision in the quiet of my apartment that I should have made a long time ago.
This was the last time.
The last time I waited on Brielle. The last time I set a table, made a call or said something out loud that left me sitting alone after midnight with an empty wine bottle and an answer I already knew.
I had loved her since we were teenagers and that love was real.
It always would be real but real love and the right timing were two completely different things and I couldn’t keep bleeding in the space between them.
She had her world and I had mine. So, maybe that was just always going to be the truth of it no matter how much either one of us wanted this.
I put the bottle down and leaned my head back on the couch and looked at the ceiling.
Melo and Mazi needed to get settled on that campus in less than a month. That was my main concern.
Then Monday morning I had a gym to walk into and a trainer named Coach Ray waiting on me. I had the judge’s order that was also the best opportunity anybody had ever handed me in my life.
That was enough. That had to be enough.
Brielle was going to have to be something I let go from here on out because I didn’t have room anymore to carry it any other way.
I closed my eyes and let the apartment stay quiet around me.
And that was the last night I waited on anybody.
She had me fucked up. I knew exactly who I was.
But I allowed my love for Bri to turn me into a nigga that I never wanted to be.
If she didn’t want to be all in with me, I had no choice but to move on and let this shit go.
Being a good guy never got niggas nowhere.
And the bad part about it was that I was really trying with her ass.
At this point, it no longer mattered. I was done.