Prison Throne (15 page)

“No,” he said calmly.

He remained relieved until he recalled Rasim’s legend in his mind. If Rasim was going to mark him, Navy wanted to suggest that he’d go on ahead and kill him instead. Mainly because when people saw his face he wouldn’t last a day on the DC streets. His fears were realized when Rasim reached in the back pocket of his jeans and removed a switchblade.

“No,” Navy screamed as he moved his head quickly from left to right in an attempt to stunt Rasim’s groove. “Please don’t! I’m begging you!”

“Hold him,” Rasim said looking upon his men.

Chance gripped the top of his head while Brooklyn steadied the chin as Rasim cut into the left and right corner of his lips just enough. When he was done, Rasim punched Navy several times in the gut until he screamed out in pain, causing the muscles in his face to contract and the slits Rasim created to widen.

When Rasim was done, blood poured out of his face and spilled onto the silver table beneath him. These days Rasim was doing a better job of giving his award winning Glasgow smile. That was for sure. He had to give himself credit.

In no way was Navy the first. Many men roamed the streets of DC with a smile like Navy’s. Some would say they were brothers.

Most of the time Rasim would allow a patient to wander, knowing that the victim wouldn’t last a day without some young killer preying upon him and snuffing out his life in the hopes of gaining Rasim’s favor. And Navy wouldn’t be any different.

Brooklyn and Chance cut the ropes binding Navy’s arms and legs and Navy slid off of the table and slammed against the floor on all fours, resembling the dog he was born to be.

“Get the fuck out,” Rasim told him by way of a swift kick to the lower chin. “And enjoy what’s left of your life.”

Navy hustled up the stairs backwards, as if his greatest fear was niggas grabbing asses, instead of shooting bullets in his head.

When he was gone Rasim observed his men. He had been in charge for years and they respected and feared him greatly. It was mighty different from those lovely Strawberry Meadows days.

“We have to find Vance,” Rasim reiterated.

              “I’m already on it,” Brooklyn nodded.

             
“You want us to put one in his brain when we do?” Chance asked.

             
“No. Bring him to me.” Rasim turned to leave but Brooklyn stopped him.

             
“Look, before you dip, why didn’t you stop when I honked my horn at you yesterday?”

             
“Yesterday?” he frowned. “I was up under Snow all night. You ain’t see me.”

             
“First off, when are you not up under Snow?” Chance kidded.

             
“Fuck you, nigga,” Rasim joked with his brother.

“No seriously,” Brooklyn interrupted. “I thought I saw you driving this white van down Minnesota Avenue. I was trying to get your attention but you ain’t stop. Wasn’t sure if a body was in the back or not and you needed my help.”

“Wasn’t me,” Rasim repeated firmer.

“Sure looked like your Indian looking ass. The van pulled up at Martin’s Supply Plant off of Benning Road. You should go see that nigga. Word to God, dude could be your stunt double.”

              Rasim brushed it off. Lately people had been claiming to see him and in places he simply wouldn’t roam. He just figured a dude with similar features was a little too close for his comfort. For now shit was cool, just as long as the replica didn’t try pulling rank using Rasim’s stripes. “Like I said, it wasn’t me. Now find Vance.”

             
“I know you let ‘ole boy go,” Chance said. “Since you like dudes to sport the Glasgow smile like Jordans and shit.” He paused. “But are you sure Navy won’t go tell him we coming?”

             
“I’m praying he does. That’s the only reason I let him go. Before coming down, I told Fish to stay on him when I let him up and don’t let nobody kill him. So for real, it’s just a matter of time.”

****

Rasim was back in his truck and on BWI Parkway and then the dumbest shit happened. As he rolled past a construction site, his right wheel caught a nail.

“Fuck,” he yelled slamming his hand against the steering wheel. He couldn’t be without his truck so he decided to pull off the parkway onto the shoulder and look up the nearest garage with his navigation system.

He was in luck. A place called King Amongst Kings
Body Shop was located off the next exit. Although he never patronized the spot, he decided to give it a chance. He figured it was luck because its name was an old saying he used frequently as a kid.

             
  When he pulled up, a white man dressed in a butler uniform rushed outside with a glass of champagne on a silver tray. Dude grabbed the glass and the moment Rasim stepped out, he offered him the flute.

             
But Rasim gave up alcohol and weed long ago so that he could keep his wits about him in the streets. Still, he was impressed that some boss thought enough to offer such a classy service in the nation’s capital. “I’m good,” Rasim responded. “But thanks, man.”

             
“Not a problem, sir,” he replied placing the glass back on the tray before opening the door for him. “Right this way.”

             
When Rasim stepped inside, he was pleasantly surprised. Everything outside seemed regular but it was all an illusion. The moment he walked in, he was transported from Washington, DC to what resembled a small palace in London. It was elegantly dressed with burgundy furniture and outlined in gold with huge King Chairs in every corner.

             
Impressive.
Rasim nodded.

             
When he peeped the counter, he checked out the white marble along with the dark-skinned gorgeous cashier behind the register with a Colgate smile. Rasim stepped to her and she said, “Your wish is my command, sir? How may I serve you?”

If only she could bounce on his dick. Shit, that would be a good start.

Instead of giving her his inner needs, he shook his head, smiled and said, “How long this spot been open?” He glanced around again.

             
“A little over a month,” she admitted. “But we have over fifty shops in and around the United States of America.”

             
He nodded in approval. “Whoever the owner is, tell him I’m impressed.”

             
“And what makes you think the owner is male?” a female asked as she made her way to the counter. At first she was about to kid the customer a bit more until she saw who he was. Right there, in the flesh, was the one man on the planet who stole and broke her heart in the same year.

             
Her acknowledgment of him came at the exact same time he remembered her. “Queen?” He leaned in. “Is that you?”

             
The last time he saw Queen was at Strawberry Meadows many moons ago. They had a little rendezvous in the laundry room but he left her high and dry as he hooked up with Snow instead.

Queen resented him for standing her up and her friends talked about it so much she had to cut their hating asses out of her life.

Queen never realized how much she cared about Rasim until he asked her to suck his dick in music class, and she did, only for him to run up in a tiny church looking for Flat Butt Snow Bradshaw.

             
Queen swaggered around the counter and stole a closer look at Rasim. All she could say was Good Gawd. He was only a reflection of the boy he used to be because what stood before her was spectacular. The muscles. The tattoos and even the Kufi and the scar over his eye gave him an appeal between hardened ex-convict and a hood fashion model.

             
The years hadn’t been too bad on Queen either. Her face was unblemished and her long light brown hair trickled down her shoulders, stopping right at the entrance of her cleavage. Her tiny waist sat on top of her curvaceous hips and even from the front he could see that ass.

             
Rasim, who over the last decade was never physical with anyone but Snow, gripped her up and hugged her tightly in his arms. Her face nestled against his chest and she inhaled his cologne as if she owned the nigga. It wasn’t long before her pussy moistened and she was begging with her eyes for him to fuck her on site.

Queen hadn’t felt that much fire since the barbeque pit flipped over last summer at her crib and a piece of coal flew out and burnt the tip of her nose.

              “I’m sorry,” Rasim uttered realizing he had done way too much as it pertained to physical touch. “It’s just good to see you that’s all.” He looked her over and could feel his dick stiffening. “So tell me what’s going on? You married?”

             
“Yes,” she admitted. “My husband owns a few banks in and around DC.”

             
Rasim was disappointed and yet he didn’t know why.

             
“What about you?” she asked.

             
When he remembered his wife, before he even sniffed Queen’s pussy, he felt like he was cheating. The smile disappeared off of his face as he recalled the look in her eyes the last time he broke her heart at Hains Point. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I married Snow and shit.”

             
Although Queen was grinning, she was whispering
I hate that bitch
inside. She had been in love with Rasim so long that she named her business after hearing his favorite saying in the laundry room the day he lost his virginity to Snow. But she never thought she would see him again.

It was because of Snow’s dry, flat-butt, no-personality-having ass that she never got to experience Rasim beyond sucking his dick in class. Maybe it was time for a little revenge.

              “Well, I’m happy to hear that,” she lied before focusing on her employee. “Lisa, give Mr. Nami one of my business cards.” The cashier did as instructed. “If you ever need assistance, for anything,” Queen looked into his eyes, “call me.” The cashier slipped it in his hand.

             
Rasim tucked the card in his back pocket and he would remember the intensity she used to make the comment when he was punishing Snow later that night.

             
“Now let me get you some service,” Queen said slyly as she licked her upper lip. “For your truck, that is.”

CHAPTER 14

SNOW

Snow and Mute Candy were chilling in a booth at The Cheesecake Factory in Towson, Maryland while Amber and Cassie went shopping for their graduation outfits within the connecting mall.

Mute Candy had not only given Donald’s daughters all of the love she could spare, but she added her attention to detail to make sure his twins prospered in home and in life. Nobody had better lay a hand on them like the pervert did when he tried to rape her many seasons ago. It would be un-good and she knew that wasn’t a word.

Mute Candy was so dedicated to their lives that both received full scholarships to Spelman College in Atlanta and that included room and board.

Amber, the dainty one out of the two, was taking Biology with a minor in Japanese Studies while Cassie elected to major in Computer Software and Information Sciences.

With the money the girls received from the September 11
th
Victims Compensation Fund, coupled with the dough Rasim, Chance and Brooklyn dropped on them as if it were going out of style, they wouldn’t have to want for a thing. And as heavy as their bank accounts were at the moment, that may be the case for the rest of their lives.

The fellas weren’t just popping shit when they vowed to be in the twins’ lives on the day Donald took his last breath. They saw them at least three times a week and attended school meetings. That also included Basketball games when Cassie displayed her vicious dunking abilities and the talent shows where Amber showcased her singing chops. Whenever they glanced in any audience, in any part of the world, Rasim, Brooklyn and Chance were always in front row seats.

At one point, Mute Candy had to go on the fellas, especially Rasim, for buying gifts for the girls without warrant. She wanted them to work for their spoils instead of expecting everything to be handed to them. But every now and again, because the girls were so smart, and so respectful, she’d allow them access to the expensive gifts, which was why both of them sported Louis Vuitton purses on their arms today.

They even blessed her with money and when she wouldn’t take it they would deposit it in her bank account.

“If I keep the baby he will leave me,” Snow said as she sat across from Mute Candy and spoke in sign language about her latest pinch. She was pregnant yet again. “He specifically said he doesn’t want a child in the world, only so some nigga with a vendetta could use him or her against him. And I feel him.”

“He should have pulled out then,” she signed.

“Mute Candy!”

“I’m serious.” Mute Candy rolled her eyes and moaned a little like she did whenever she got upset. “Your baby is a gift, Snow. It’s not a pair of shoes you can take back to the mall when they don’t fit,” she signed hard. “You’re worried about what Ras feels when your logic is off. If anything, you should be concerned about God and the way you keep breaking His heart by eliminating His precious gifts from your body.” She paused. “You can’t get another abortion, my friend. Not this time.”

Snow never told Rasim about the first abortion to protect his heart and she never would.

Still, Snow thought about what Mute Candy signed and she knew it would be unethical but her relationship was going so well with her husband that this kind of thing could set them back five years. Especially when he expressed how he felt about the matter in the past.

Snow loved the Lord. That was true. But what they didn’t know was that she worshiped Rasim with the same vigor. With the same passion and that was dangerous.

She was about to leave and think about the matter at home when Rasim bopped into the restaurant with a bitch. Confused on why he was there, Snow frowned and looked down at her gold Rolex watch. It was two o’clock in the afternoon and he told her earlier that day that he was going out of town.

Slowly she stood up from her seat to address the affair properly. Mute Candy was signing and trying to figure out what was up with the baby until Snow was on her feet.

Did dude have the audacity to cheat again?
Snow thought.

Out of nervousness, she kept swallowing until she was upon his back. With her heart swirling in her stomach, she tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, “Rasim.”

When he turned around, in her error, she was forced to take two steps backwards. The boy/man before her was not Rasim. Although similar in structure, he was much smaller now that she was upon him. In addition, he was younger.

“Can I help you?” he asked in a kind voice.

Snow perused his features carefully. They were not original. Rasim Nami was the real owner. Because the young man before her looked just like Rasim when she first met him in Strawberry Meadows. She was experiencing Deja Vu. How was that possible?

“No…uh…I thought you were someone else.”

He smiled and said, “Since I’ve been home from college, I’ve been hearing that a lot.”

Snow tried to grin back but her cheeks felt heavy. Was this boy Rasim’s son? And if so did he know?

****

Rasim and Snow sat quietly at the table across from one another in their home. He desired seafood gumbo and since his wish was her command, she made him a big delicious pot.

Snow decided to keep the boy/man secret because she had other things to talk to him about.

             
Although he was tearing through his food as if he hadn’t eaten a bite all day, she was chasing a shrimp in her bowl. Her appetite vanished just like the years they spent together in their marriage.

             
Not feeling Snow’s altered state, Rasim devoured the last piece of garlic bread, wiped his mouth with the napkin and said, “What’s on your mind, Snow?”

             
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

             
Damn!

             
When she rehearsed in the mirror she had a different script. Unfortunately she forgot her lines and, as a result, fumbled.

             
“You pregnant?” he frowned sitting up straight in his chair. “Fuck you mean you pregnant? I thought we discussed that we weren’t having any kids. Ever!”

             
“We did, Rasim, but—”

             
“But what?” he yelled as if she were an out casted nigga on the block. “You decided that you weren’t going to listen to me? That you weren’t going to follow my command? Fuck wrong with you Snow?”

             
The way he was carrying on, you’d think she fucked herself.

             
“That’s not fair, Rasim,” she said as tears built themselves up in the wells of her eyes. “It takes two to get pregnant so this is not all my fault.”

             
Rasim slammed his fist on the table, causing both bowls to topple to the floor. He stood up and his increased height intimidated her. “If you want to stay married to me, you will get an abortion tomorrow. If not, then I’ll go down and file for divorce.” He pointed at the door. “I will never bring a child in this world, only to suffer a loss like I did when my parents died. Make a decision, Snow, because on that, I will not waiver!” He stormed away and slammed their bedroom door.