THE ENTITLED AGGRESSOR: When the Victim Is Forced to Pay for the Crime
The atmosphere in Judge Stevens’ courtroom shifted from routine procedure to palpable outrage the moment Zachariah Adterbury opened his mouth. It was a hearing meant to address a simple compliance issue: Adterbury, a defendant out on bond for a violent felony, had allowed his court-ordered GPS monitoring device to be deactivated due to non-payment. He sat over $1,100 in arrears, a “mortal sin” in the eyes of the court. But as the Judge probed for an explanation, the defense that emerged was so audaciously twisted that it threatened to derail the decorum of the bench. Adterbury didn’t argue that he lacked the funds; he argued that his victim—the woman he was indicted for brutally stabbing with scissors—should have been the one footed the bill.
The legal reality was stark. Adterbury was charged with aggravated assault, specifically for intentionally and recklessly causing bodily injury by stabbing and cutting a woman named Sarah Edwards about the head and body. Yet, standing before the court, he displayed a level of entitlement that bordered on the delusional. “Sarah was paying all of the fees and then she stopped,” his defense suggested, implying that his failure to comply with bond conditions was somehow a breach of contract by the person he had allegedly traumatized. Judge Stevens, a man of forty years of marriage and decades of legal experience, found himself staring into what he described as a “parallel universe.” The idea that a violent offender would expect his victim to subsidize his freedom was not just a legal failure; it was a moral obscenity that left the Judge visibly shaken.
Throughout the proceedings, Adterbury’s demeanor was that of a cocky bully, repeatedly interrupting the Judge and attempting to negotiate his obligations as if they were suggestions rather than mandates. “You don’t have this in a contract,” Adterbury challenged, to which Stevens fired back that the court’s order was the only contract that mattered. The Judge’s frustration boiled over as he identified a disturbing pattern in Adterbury’s history. Not only was there the stabbing of Sarah Edwards, but there was a separate misdemeanor assault involving a “headbutting” incident with another woman. To Adterbury, these were “just other women,” a phrase that signaled a deep-seated lack of respect for half the human population. Judge Stevens seized on this, labeling Adterbury “the bully of the group” and warning him that a jury—likely comprised of at least 50% women—would find his excuses not only hollow but repulsive.
The power dynamic in the room was a masterclass in judicial discipline. While Adterbury attempted to play the victim, claiming he was “nervous” and “trying to get his life on track,” the Judge dismantled his façade of reform. He pointed out the absurdity of Adterbury’s world: a world where a man in his mid-thirties, capable of driving dump trucks and working construction, would still look to the women he harmed to solve his financial problems. Stevens made it clear that “grace” had left the building. He ordered a 72-hour window for the defendant to rectify the situation, but with a terrifying caveat. He intended to speak with the bondsman and ensure that not a single cent of the GPS fees came from the victims. If Adterbury was found to be pressuring these women for money while out on bond, he wouldn’t just be facing a fee; he would be “sitting in jail with all the GPS devices they can put on you” until the case went to trial.
In the final moments of the confrontation, the Judge’s words served as a broader indictment of Adterbury’s character. He spoke of the “indecency” of the defendant’s actions and the “parallel universe” of his logic. The court was no longer just dealing with a bond violation; it was dealing with a man who refused to grow up and take responsibility for his own life. As the hearing concluded, the message was unmistakable: the era of bullying was over. Judge Stevens had drawn a line in the sand, protecting the victims from further financial and emotional extortion and leaving Adterbury to face the cold, hard reality of his own making. The defendant was left with a choice—pay his own way and follow the law, or prepare for a life behind bars where no one would be left to pay his debts.
