A man is scheduled to die by lethal injection in Texas on April 30. His cousin says he shouldn’t — because the cousin was the one who pulled the trigger.
That’s the explosive claim now sitting at the center of one of the most consequential death penalty cases in Texas in recent memory. James Broadnax, convicted in 2009 for the June 2008 murders of Matthew Butler, 28, and Stephen Swan, 26, outside a Garland recording studio, is facing execution after spending more than 15 years on death row. His co-defendant and cousin, Demarius Cummings, has now signed a sworn declaration saying he was the actual shooter — not Broadnax — and that he manipulated his cousin into taking the blame.
A Robbery Gone Lethal
The facts of that June night in 2008 were never really in dispute. Both men were there. Both were involved in the robbery outside the Garland parking lot. Both were 19 years old. What has always been contested — and what is now being formally challenged — is who actually fired the shots that killed Butler and Swan. Broadnax initially confessed to the shootings, and that confession became the cornerstone of the prosecution’s case.
Cummings, who was convicted alongside his cousin, tells a very different story now. In a signed declaration, he states plainly: “In fact, I was the one who shot the two victims, not James.” He says the two were both high on PCP and marijuana at the time of the crime — a detail that adds a layer of chaos and confusion to whatever happened in that parking lot. It doesn’t excuse anything. But it complicates the picture considerably, especially when paired with what came next.
The Swap That Changed Everything
So why did Broadnax say he did it if he didn’t? According to Cummings, the answer is disturbingly straightforward: he convinced him to. Cummings had a prior criminal record. Broadnax didn’t. The calculus, as Cummings now describes it, was that Broadnax would fare better in the system than he would. “Later, we both gave statements to the media,” Cummings writes in his declaration. “In James’ statement, he said that he had participated in the robberies and shot the two victims, while in my statements I said that while I had participated in the robberies, James had shot the two victims.”
That coordinated story held — until now. What changed? Cummings says it’s spiritual. He’s grown, he says, and can no longer sit quietly while his cousin faces a needle. “I want to clear my conscience,” he wrote, stating, “and do not want James to be executed for shooting two people when I was the one who committed those acts.”
What the Evidence Says
Here’s where it gets harder to dismiss. Cummings’ DNA was found on the pistol used in the killings. That’s not nothing. Defense attorneys and innocence advocates have pointed to that forensic detail as corroboration — however imperfect — of Cummings’ new account. It doesn’t prove he fired the weapon, but it does raise an uncomfortable question: if Broadnax was the shooter, why is his co-defendant’s DNA on the gun and not his?
Still, courts have seen last-minute confessions before, and they don’t always move the needle. Texas prosecutors have shown no indication they intend to halt the execution. Broadnax, listed by the Texas Department of Criminal Justice as inmate #999549, has been on death row since his 2009 conviction. He was 19 when the crime occurred. He is now in his mid-30s.
Rap Lyrics on Trial
The case has drawn attention for another reason, too. During the sentencing phase, prosecutors reportedly used Broadnax’s rap lyrics to argue that he represented a future danger to society — a legal standard Texas requires for a death sentence. It’s a practice that critics have long argued is prejudicial, particularly when applied to young Black defendants. Whether those lyrics influenced the jury’s decision is impossible to know for certain. But the fact that they were introduced at all has become a flashpoint for those who see the case as emblematic of deeper systemic failures in how capital punishment is applied in this country.
Broadnax’s execution date — April 30 — is fast approaching. Courts will have to decide, in short order, whether Cummings’ declaration warrants a closer look or whether it arrives too late to matter. Legal experts note that recantations and co-defendant confessions face a steep climb in post-conviction proceedings, particularly in Texas, which executes more inmates than any other state.
A Question With No Easy Answer
What happens when the system gets it wrong? That’s not a rhetorical flourish — it’s the actual question on the table. Two men walked into a Garland parking lot one night in 2008 and two people died. The courts decided, based largely on a confession that one of the men now says was fabricated at the other’s urging, who deserved to die for it. One of those men is scheduled to be executed in weeks. The other is asking the world to believe him when he says: it should have been me.
Whether anyone with the power to stop it is listening is another matter entirely.
