by Ancelli
Brandon took a long sip of the liquor. He was drowning is sorrows. He also felt sorry for Maggie, regardless of what she did. All she ever wanted was to become a mother. He could only imagine how she was feeling, but she had someone to console her. Brandon considered calling her a couple of times, but changed his mind.
“Mr. Stokes,” there was a knock on his open door.
“Yes,” Brandon placed the bottle down, and watched Lucy enter his space. What was she doing here after working hours?
“Are you okay, sir?” She asked from the threshold.
“What are you doing here so late?”
“I was finishing some work I was given down in admin,” she showed him a thick binder.
“Lucy, working hours ended three hours ago,” his tone was soft. “Don’t let anyone take advantage of you. The only people in this building that can give you orders are Bianca and I, no one else.”
Lucy smiled. “Yes, sir.”
“Go home,” he touched his mouse bringing his computer back to life.
“Do you need anything before I go?” She stared at him.
“No,” Brandon acted like he was typing on his keyboard, and Lucy went to turn, “By the way, thank you for everything you do.”
Before she exited, she said. “Thank you for this opportunity.”
As soon as Lucy left his office he took another gulp of whiskey. It burned going down, but not as much as he hurt. How could Maggie demand a damned DNA test? And why couldn’t he get Kanielle off his mind? The kiss they shared in the elevator, it was innocent, but felt so right. The ringing of his cell phone drowned his thoughts.
Brandon swiped his finger on the screen. “Hello.”
“Hey, what are you doing?”
He half smiled. “Nothing much. What are you doing for dinner?” He needed something to get his mind off Kanielle.
“Anything you want,” Rebecca answered seductively.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes, the kids are with their dad for the weekend, and I can use some company.”
“I’m on my way.” Brandon powered down his computer, stood, and ambled out of his office turning off the lights.
“See you soon.”
Brandon swiped his cell phone off. He needed a distraction, and what better way than with a woman. He tapped the elevator call button, and the memories of the day’s events came back all at once. The doors opened, and he stepped in, damn… was he having feelings for Kanielle and her baby, even though she wasn’t his? He knew the answer, yes.
***
Brandon was on his way to Rebecca’s house. His phone rang, the screen in his truck lit up, but he didn’t recognize the number. Brandon ignored the call, and it rang again. He pressed the answer button. “Hello.”
“Mr. Stokes,” Lucy cried into the phone.
“Lucy, what’s wrong?” He pulled over on the side of the road, he could hear it in her voice, something was definitely wrong.
“I didn’t have anyone else to call, and my brother will kill me,” her voice rattled. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Brandon was worried. What did she get herself into? He didn’t sign up for this shit. It seemed like lately he was saving women in distress, but who was going save him from himself? “Lucy, what happened?”
“The police pulled us over, we weren’t doing anything wrong,” she sobbed. “He had the music on a little loud, but he didn’t do anything wrong.” There was silence. “Please don’t tell José, I was out with Chris.”
“Chris!” Brandon hollered. “You’re with Chris?”
“Yes, he was giving me a ride.”
“A ride,” he closed his eyes, trying to stay focused. Chris would lose everything if he got locked up before going to boot camp. His career would be over before it started. The military was different than before, now they had rules about having a record. Before the judge would just give young men and women the options of joining the military or going to jail, but not now. What was he thinking?
“Mr. Stokes, Chris didn’t do anything wrong. They have him handcuffed sitting on the side of the road like he’s some type of criminal.”
“Why did they stop him?” The first thing that came to his mind was Kanielle screaming. She didn’t need this shit too. Kanielle had been through a lot in the last few months. Brandon was going to protect her from this too.
“They said the car was reported stolen.”
“Whose car is he in?”
“His sister’s Lexus,” Lucy replied.
“Where are you?” Brandon gripped his steering wheel; his day couldn’t get worse. Lucy told him the intersection they pulled them over at. He made a U-turn on the highway. He saw bright red, white, and blue lights flashing from about a mile away. Brandon pulled up behind one of the two police cars. He opened his glove compartment, taking out his reporter’s badge, a camera, small notepad, pen, and a pack of gum. Brandon wrapped the camera around his neck.
He opened his car door, stepping out, and placed a piece of gum in his mouth, hoping they couldn’t smell the liquor as he walked up to the scene. He prayed, what he had in mind would work. Two white cops were standing in front of a handcuffed Chris, and a Hispanic cop was in a police car. They had him sitting on the curb. Chris’ head was bowed, and the cuffs looked way too tight on his wrists. Brandon looked over at Kanielle’s car, and noticed that Lucy was still seated in the passenger seat weeping.
Brandon grabbed his camera, turning on the flashlight, and started taking pictures of the scene.
“Sir, what the hell are you doing?” The cop closest to Brandon rushed up toward him, and tried to take the camera away from him.
Brandon stepped back. “I’m just doing my job.” He showed the man his badge.
“There’s nothing here to report, so leave.”
“Or what? Why is this young man sitting on the curb with handcuffs on?” Brandon looked over at Chris. Chris lifted his head, his eyes were red-rimmed.
“This thug,” the cop pointed at Chris and then at Kanielle’s car. “Stole that car.”
“You’re sure that car was reported stolen?” Brandon glanced at the black vehicle. “Who reported the car stolen?” He pulled out a small notepad, and pen and started writing. “Who called it in?”
“The owner,” the Hispanic cop answered.
“Really?” Brandon shook his head. “What did he or she say? Was the description exact to this GS 350 F?”
“It was a black sedan,” the other cop stated.
“License plate?” Brandon wrote notes, looking at the names.
“He could’ve changed the license plate,” the shorter cop answered, his badge had the name Wright on it.
“When was the car reported?” Brandon stared at the police officer. “Because If I robbed a car ten minutes ago, I wouldn’t have time to change the license plate.”
“He fit the profile.”
“And what profile is that?” Brandon watched the cop waiting for an answer. “Let me guess, he’s black. Is that the only profile he fit?”
“Sir, leave now.” The cop in the car yelled at him. “We don’t have to answer any of your questions.”
Brandon smirked. “I wonder what Captain Jones would think about his cops stopping and cuffing a young black man, on a hunch that he committed a crime, and you haven’t even questioned him.” He pulled out his cell phone. “You stopped him because he was a black man, driving an expensive car. You make people like me look bad.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The cop said opening his vehicle door.
“Oh, I know more than you think.” Brandon walked over to the black car, and leaned down, looking in the driver’s window. “Lucy, are you okay?”
She wiped her face with her shaking fingers. “Yes,” her voice cracked, he could see how nervous she was.
“If you believed he stole this vehicle, wouldn’t she be arrested too?”
They didn’t answer him.
“Did you even bother to
check who this car is registered to?” Brandon was tired of playing games with these fools.
All three cops watched him. “It’s registered to,” Officer Wright opened the registration form. “A Mrs. Kanielle Richardson.”
“Did you ask the young man who Mrs. Richardson is?” Brandon glared at them.
“They wouldn’t let me explain,” Chris blurted out. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Wright shouted.
“Mrs. Richardson,” Brandon raised his voice, “Is Christopher Jackson’s sister!”
The cops looked at each other.
“Why haven’t you called this in?”
“How do you know we didn’t call this in?”
“I have connections,” he raised his cell phone. “I called the precinct, that’s how I know.”
“We had to make sure we were arresting the right person.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Chris roared.
“It’s his word against ours, who do you think they’ll believe?” Wright mentioned. “He is nothing but a thug. He swung at me when he stepped out of the vehicle.”
“We’re taking him in for resisting arrest.” Another officer whose name read Conard on the badge mentioned. He pulled Chris up by his wrists, making him cry out in pain. “And he shouldn’t have been playing his music so loud, disturbing the peace.”
“Disturbing what peace? If he was white would you have stopped him?” Brandon took things like this to heart. No one should be judged by the color of their skin, they were all equal in his eyes. When he was in the middle of nowhere in Iraq with his battle buddies, where they came from, race, sexuality and religion didn’t matter, all that counted was that they had each other’s backs.
“Let the young man go,” Brandon glared at each one of them. “If you do, I won’t publish this story in tomorrow’s paper. Three racist cops take down a young black kid with a promising future ahead of him for no apparent reason. This is what happens when your skin defines what kind of vehicle you can own, according to our city’s finest. I have pictures, witnesses, and a recording to back me up.” Brandon played back the recording on his phone.
“Let him go,” Wright demanded, walking away to his vehicle, he jumped in and drove away without looking back.
Conard took his key, and clicked the cuffs off Chris’ hands. Chris rubbed his wrists. “Next time turn down your music,” he marched toward the other car, getting in on the passenger side. The Hispanic cop waved his hand, and they pulled off.
“Thank you!” Chris’ voice rattled. “How did you know?”
“Lucy,” Brandon watched Kanielle’s brother. “What the hell were you doing with her?”
“She needed a ride home. We’ve been talking, but I swear, I haven’t crossed the line.” Chris pleaded, “We’re just friends.”
Chris seemed nervous. Brandon watched his swollen wrists. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“No,” he rubbed his wrists in pain. “I’m just sore, but I’ll be okay.”
“Take her home, and let me handle this situation,” Brandon sighed. “You just had a niece, Kanielle and your mother don’t ever need to find out about this. Enjoy your last month home, and stay away from trouble.”
“I know,” Chris glanced over at Lucy. “This night never happened.” He went to move and stopped, giving Brandon a bear hug. “Thank you,” he pulled back, and drifted toward the car, opened the driver’s door, and got in. Chris wiped Lucy’s cheeks. “We’re okay.” Music blasted as he turned on the vehicle, Chris rapidly turned it down.
“I’m not just going to let this go,” Brandon vowed as he jumped into his truck, realizing that this evening didn’t turn out like he wanted it to. Rebecca was ready and waiting for him, but he had something else on his mind now. He turned the ignition, starting the truck, and headed back to work. He dialed.
“Are you here?” Rebecca excitedly asked.
“There’s been a change of plans, I have to go back to work.”
“This late?” she sounded suspicious. “Are you sure you’re going to work?” Rebecca asked in a harsh tone.
Why was she questioning him? He never gave her any indication that they were in a relationship; she was the one that made their relationship purely physical.
Brandon tapped his finger on his steering wheel. “Rain check.”
“Sure,” she huffed and quickly hung up.
***
Two days later.
Brandon sat in his leather chair looking out of the window. The clouds were dark as the rain poured down. He wondered how Kanielle and the baby were doing. How many times did he pick up his cell, ready to call her? He missed her, but he had to move on. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, and looked through his pictures. Chris sent him a picture of Kanielle holding the baby. That baby could’ve been his.
“What is the meaning of this?” Brandon’s boss roared, slamming the day’s newspaper on his desk.
Brandon slowly twisted in his chair, glaring at him. He placed his phone down. “Peter, don’t you ever come down to my fucking office yelling at me,” Brandon raised his voice. “You hired me to do a job, and that’s what I do.”
“But this,” Peter pointed with his finger. It was the article he wrote called the Good, Bad, and Ugly. The article was about cops, and racial profiling, but he also talked about the good cops and what they do for the community. He was always taught when you write something negative, you should always write a positive. “The police commissioner called me this morning.”
“That means I did my job right.” Brandon stood, placing his hands on his desk. “I have a problem with three cops stopping a young black man, just because he was driving a fucking Lexus. If they had a valid reason, then there wouldn’t have been an article.” Brandon cracked his neck. The pictures in the newspaper didn’t show Chris’ face, but it did show his wrists in cuffs. “Those officers were wrong, and that’s why they let him go.”
“Then there was no harm,” Peter stated.
Brandon shook his head. “No harm, you don’t know what that night did to that young man. What makes us different from him?” He waited for his boss to answer. “Nothing, we breathe the same air, blood runs through our veins the same way, and we all have the same organs. The color of our skin shouldn’t fucking matter. Do you think I would’ve been stopped if I was driving that car?”
“That’s not the point,” Peter said. “What’s up with you always defending minorities?” he remarked.
“I’ve always hated the term ‘minorities’,” Brandon replied. “Are you talking about other races?” He raised his eyebrows, glaring at him. “Maybe it’s because I’m a minority myself.”
Peter smirked, shaking his head. “You have put me in a tight spot. Pull the damn paper off the shelves and internet.”
“I will do no such thing,” Brandon walked around to face him. “If you don’t like the way I run your newspaper, then fire me.”
Peter grabbed the paper in his fist, rolling it up.
“No harm, after a few days what I wrote in that article will be a distant memory,” Brandon smirked. “Are you firing me? I need to know so I can pack my shit up.”
Peter marched out of his office with his lips thinned. Brandon was good at what he did, replacing him would be difficult, and his boss knew that.
His office phone buzzed, he picked it up. “Yes.”
“Sir, Dr. Howard is on line two,” Lucy said.
“Lucy, are you okay?” Brandon was worried about her. Chris was okay, he’d talked to him several times. He was doing fine, but Lucy was missing her spark.
“I’m okay,” she giggled. “I’ve been through so much more than that back at home. I’m just sad because Chris is leaving soon.”
Brandon sighed. He wasn’t getting involved in whatever was going on between them. He warned Chris, he wouldn’t be able to save him from José and Javier.
“Pass him through,” Brandon waited.
“Brando
n, I have the results back. Can you meet me in Kanielle’s hospital room tomorrow at ten a.m.?” Greg asked.
“Why can’t you just tell me the results now?”
“Per the Richardson’s they want all the parties involved in the mix-up there,” Greg mentioned.
“Fine, I’ll be there.”
“Thank you,” Greg hung up.
Brandon slammed the phone on its cradle. Every time he tried to move on, he was sucked back in. However he had to admit, he wanted to see Kanielle, and this was the best excuse to finally say goodbye to what could’ve been. If the baby was his and Maggie’s, Kanielle would still be in his life, because by law she would have still been the mother.
Chapter Sixteen
Brandon watched Kanielle with her newborn through the thick glass window in the Special Care Unit. He saw the love she had for her little girl in the way she touched her fingers, and kissed her rosy cheeks as she held her.
“My niece is beautiful,” Chris beamed standing next to him. “Are those for my sister?” He was talking about the bouquet of roses Brandon was carrying.
“Yes, she is beautiful, and yes these are for your sister.” Brandon watched as Kanielle gently passed the baby to Robert. He held her close, kissing her temple. “How are they doing?”
“They are doing fine, the baby is getting stronger with each day.” Chris dug into his pocket taking out his cell phone. “I have to pick my mom up from work, talk to you later,” Chris marched down the hall to the elevators.
Dr. Howard called him and Maggie in for the test results. He was so over this, he was trying to continue with his life, but Maggie wouldn’t let it be. Regardless of that, Brandon was happy for Kanielle, she finally had what she longed for. She was smiling as she talked to her soon to be ex. That sweet baby might bring them back together. Kanielle had mentioned that they’d tried to get pregnant for the last year and a half. If she had only known what her good for nothing husband was up to. He wondered how many women there actually were. Would her brother ever tell her what he saw?