Vengeance Is the Only Verdict: It's Lexi Again

By Tanisha J Beecher Bell

The lives of several men have been turned upside down by one woman, Lexi. Approximately eight years ago when beautiful Lexi Jones arrived in America, a series of unfavorable events aroused her dark side. After quickly realizing that she'd been deceived, and that the glorious American lifestyle she'd been promised while living in Jamaica, would n

• Language: English
• Publisher: RSVIP Services LLC
• Release date: Nov 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781735808307

Book preview

PRELUDE

LEXI

Approximately eight years ago, my husband and I endured a most horrific experience—but such is life, right? It was by far, the toughest time we had ever endured. After overcoming such an ordeal, I hoped and prayed with all my heart, and then some, that our past wouldn’t come back to haunt us, but it did. By the time you get through these pages, you will have realized just how much damage one’s past is capable of producing.

Let me explain how it all went down.

About five years ago, I agreed to testify in court against my ex-boyfriend, Vaughnn. In return, the FBI drummed up an immunity deal so that my testimony could not be used against me. In order to guard my testimony and my life, the federal agency submitted a protection request on my behalf.

A Witness Security Program Application was then presented to the Office of Enforcement Operations, summarizing my testimony against Vaughnn; the threat my testimony could possibly pose to me and my family; and our potential danger to a new community, provided we were relocated.

We later attended a preliminary interview with the United States Marshals Service, where we learnt what our new lives would be like in the Witness Protection Program.

The interview had gone well, and the US Marshals Service submitted its recommendation to the US Attorney General for our protection. After that, we were successfully enlisted into the Witness Protection Program.

My husband, JT; my son, Lexington; and I were protected from any retaliation from Vaughnn, throughout the trial, and beyond; we now had the US Marshals backing us.

My family and I were kept in a holding house for about one year until the trial, when my testimony sealed the deal in Vaughnn’s incarceration.

The drama, however, didn’t just end there. My husband began to act up, especially after our son was born. See - I was pregnant and had given birth a couple of weeks after Vaughnn’s arraignment.

Anyway--like I was saying, immediately after our son was born, my husband had become withdrawn. I know that he loves our son, but JT’s sudden peculiar behavior was unrepresentative of the man I’d known nearly all my life, and had been best friends with. I just couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why my husband had suddenly begun to act so crazy.

We moved from Pembroke Pines to Cincinnati, and assumed new identities, which was typical of being in the witness protection program. We were, however, allowed to keep our first names, so we did. Even though I had legally lost my family name, in my heart I would always be Lexi Jones-Miller, wife of JT Miller.

I was glad I didn’t have to change my first name or that of my son’s. Our first names embodied so much, and too many people had already fallen in love with the name Lexi. So I kept it. My son, Lexington, was named after me—I’m sure you get my drift.

JT kept his name as well; in fact, it wasn’t the only thing he’d kept. He had also kept running his mouth about who we were. He continued revealing our identity to the public. The rules of the Witness Protection Program forbade us to make known our true identities to anyone, as it would compromise our safety.

Upon their discovery of JT breaking the rules of the program, the US Marshals relocated us from Tennessee to Cincinnati, and gave us new identities all over again. The only explanation I received was that my husband had been keeping in touch with friends back home in Pembroke Pines, Florida, and had also disclosed our true identities to our new neighbors.

We were updated on the rules and the importance of sticking to them; we were also warned of the consequences of doing otherwise.

One year later, which was three years ago—I hope you understand me so far, we got kicked out of the Witness Protection Program; the reason? JT’s violation of the rules— again.

JT then insisted that we return to Pembroke Pines, FL, to live. He assured me that our family would be safe and that enough time had passed for our enemies to forget about us. JT maintained that we had disappeared long enough, and that no one— neither Vaughnn nor his prison posse, would even as much as consider that we dared return.

JT had somehow convinced himself that all attempts against our lives would by now be aborted. I told myself that our relationship would improve and that JT would stop acting up if I gave in to his demands. So, for the survival of my family, I cooperated with my husband. I had only one condition, that we relocate to Weston instead, which was close enough to Pembroke Pines, FL. He was pleased with that, so we moved back to South Florida.

With the FBI and US Marshals no longer protecting us, the saga begins.

CHAPTER ONE

VAUGHNN

I closed my diary, sat up in bed, and glanced around the stark prison cell in which I’d spent approximately four years already. Four years ago, when the courts had sentenced me to life in prison without any chance of parole, I’d already spent over a year of my life in jail, waiting to be tried and finally sentenced, totaling just over five years since I had lost my freedom.

I observed the toilet that sat barely two feet away from my bed; wondered how I’d really managed to cope for this long in such harsh confines. I also wondered if I could continue to cope with the thought of spending the rest of my life in this place. I’d be here until the day I died--provided I didn’t take my own life first.

This was no life, no life for me at all. Right now, I just existed. There was absolutely no reason to live— well, maybe one. Lexi. She was the cause of my ill fate.

For the past five years I’d been dreaming of ways in which to make her suffer. I now had plenty of ideas, as I’ve had plenty of time to think. Revenge against Lexi had been the only thought that’s kept me going all this while; the only thought that’s kept me fueled.

I’ve made attempts in the past to have her assassinated. Once while I was locked up in jail, and twice after I was imprisoned. But she seemed to have fallen off the face of the planet. Seemed as if the FBI was hiding her, but I never gave up hope. I continued to dream of vengeance.

For every prison riot I’ve been thrown into-- whether voluntarily or involuntarily; for every blow, stab, or poke I’ve rendered, or has been rendered back to me; for every type of punishment I’ve inflicted on other cons or has been inflicted on me, all in the name of survival, I blame Lexi. Now, finally, she’d resurfaced. I got word that she was now living in Weston with her punk ass husband and retarded kid.

The idiot husband had opened up a Jamaican restaurant off Flamingo Road and ran a lumber store off SR-84.

I shook my head and furrowed my brows in scorn as my mind wandered back to one week ago, when Olivere Lisken was stabbed several times in his throat with a razor. It all happened so fast. The entire prison was placed on lockdown until the following morning, when members of the Nu Order Gang pinned the murder on Conrad, the Jamaican dude who’d refused to join a group.

Conrad would possibly be facing death row sentencing, and nobody was there to help him. But such was the prison life. There were a set of rules that everyone understood. You either played by the rules, or get seriously hurt or even killed. None of the inmates dared to snitch on fellow inmates, for fear of losing their lives. It was all a dangerous game and I often wondered how much longer I’d survive playing such a game.

I was a member of the Nu Order Gang; had even managed to build a very good rapport with the leader, Atnulu, who had taken a special liking to me. I was always aware of Atnulu’s plots against Olivere and Conrad. Matter-of-fact, I was the cause of Olivere’s demise. I had stabbed him to death with that razor.

I knew my deeds have been inhumane, even more so since my prison sentence. Whatever values or morals I had remaining had totally dissipated once I landed behind bars. I’ve had to perform the most malevolent tasks in order to save my ass. My sense of self was now almost dried up, except for the part of me that clung to the hope of taking down Lexi, and all the people she loved.

As a result, I embraced being at the top of this prison’s hierarchy, working with Atnulu and other deadly inmates to run the joint. It didn’t matter to me that I no longer had a soul—I felt I’d sold it by identifying with the Nu Order clique.

Olivere’s murder and Conrad’s grave misfortune had been my advance payment to Atnulu, for working with me in the future on the Lexi project. Like I said, the rules could not be broken. Any inmate who incurred a debt, was required to repay, usually promptly, or even in advance, even if it meant working it off on his knees.

Atnulu had all the right contacts within and outside of prison. I hadn’t come this far to punk out now.

In the outside world, I was a man of my own rules. I ran my own show; freedom was sweet. But all of that was now water under the bridge because of Lexi.

Lexi Jones was to be blamed for Olivere’s murder and Conrad’s risk of facing death row.

The sudden sound of footsteps and keys clinking together interrupted me from my thoughts.

Gibbs! one of two prison officers shouted, You have a visitor!

I jumped to my feet in utter disbelief. I finally had my first visitor after five years of being locked up. No shit! I watched as the guards commenced unlocking the bars.

Up against the wall; hands behind your back! the second officer shouted.

Moments later I was shackled and led to an area where I sat in front of what seemed to me like some sort of glazed glass, separating me from my visitor.

I stared blankly at him. He was an average built, high yellow dude, in a three piece suit and tie. He picked up the phone on his end and I picked up mine and listened to what he had to say. By now, my initial feelings of excitement had been replaced by numbness.

Mr. Gibbs, I’m Humphrey Sharp, your new lawyer.

I glanced at the officers then back at my visitor. Go on, I said, eyeing him suspiciously. "Carlton Fluorentine; have you mailed him your

letter yet?"

Letter? What letter? What are you talkin’ about?

There are certain court decisions that have been in place for many years now. The Guajardo v. Estelle decision permits inmates to correspond with other inmates throughout the agency

I don’t have any problems in that area, I replied through gritted teeth. He was beginning to piss me off by the second. Who the hell was this flaming lookin’ punk? Why was he here?"

Calm down Mr. Gibbs, I’m just making sure you’re aware of your rights. Wanted you to know you may also utilize the US mail system. I know you are now cut off from the outside world and there are loved ones you’d probably like to stay informed about. Do you understand?

I didn’t understand a thing. I was confused. He was speaking in parables and I still didn’t know who he was.

Let them know that the debt has been satisfied. A new day can be experienced. People shouldn’t live in the past when the debt of the past has been settled, he said staring me dead in the eyes.

Say what?

That’s it for now Mr. Gibbs. A very good friend of yours has requested that I review the details surrounding your case—see if there’s anything that might have been missed. If you don’t hear from me again, it simply means there’s no need.

Guards! I yelled angrily. The officers responded immediately and escorted me back to my cell. I’d left my visitor sitting there looking like the goon that he was.

CHAPTER TWO

VAUGHNN

What did Sharp say to you? Atnulu asked as he joined me and the rest of the gang at the table for dinner.

What?

Sharp. What did he tell you? Wh- how did—

Neva mind that; I’ll explain later. Just tell me what he said; verbatim.

I did as I was told and started talking. Asking too many questions could make me look weak, and weakness was a definite no-no in this prison facility. As close as Atnulu and I were, I knew he would turn against me in a heartbeat at the slightest sign of weakness.

He said somethin’ ‘bout a debt being settled- um—

Aight, good, Atnulu said, cutting me off. The debt is settled then. So, did he say anything about mail correspondence?

Matter of fact, yeah. He said that I have the right to utilize the US mail system.

That’s all I needed to know, Atnulu smiled wickedly, as he sucked on his chicken bone.

I took a bite of my meal and chewed in silence. Everybody at the table ate in silence, eyeing each other intermittently.

Every inmate knew that it was best to stay quiet rather than say the wrong shit and get killed.

I could feel Atnulu eyeing me sideways while he ate. I kept my eyes on my food. This was no fucking life.

Yo, Baldy, he said, turning towards me. you did a good job back there last week, he lowered his voice to almost a whisper.

Yeah, I slightly turned towards him, but not too much. My focus remained on my plate.

The lawyer you spoke to, Sharpe, is a friend of mine, he explained.

Aigh’t, I said nodding my head in approval. See, I’d come to observe that Atnulu was full of himself and full of shit. He lived for praise and people’s approval. Of course I kept my opinion to myself.

I knew he wanted to surprise me with the news of having such influential contacts in the outside world. I continued to nod my head while facially expressing awe, so Atnulu continued.

"So, Gibbs, it’s like this. Sharpe did a case some time ago