Prison Throne

by T. Styles

  Rasim observed Alf who looked so much like him they could be brothers. He reasoned that he was a member of a family with strong genes.

  It was a coincidence that Alf was a member of the police department and it was as if the Universe had conspired to reunite the family when he got the call about the terrorist attack at that address. When he heard Rasim’s name over the radio, he contacted his father for help, got approval from the higher ups and invited him down.

  Maybe, just maybe, Rasim’s prayers in the mosque in prison that day came true. He remembered a part of his prayer clearly.

  “Please give me the strength and help to be the husband she wants and deserves.”

  Was this the help Allah had given?

  “Can you tell my wife I’m sorry?” Rasim asked looking at his uncle and then Alf. “Can you tell her I love her no matter what?”

  Vazir nodded. “I will, son. And I’ll see you soon. We both will.”

  ****

  Rasim stood next to his attorney and awaited the verdict. The past six months had been a long road and he was eager for it to be over, whether the judgment be in his favor or not.

  As he peeped the view behind him, he was disappointed that throughout the trial Snow hadn’t bothered to show her face. Not one time. She made a decision to leave him alone and she stood by it. The agony of losing her worsened since he sat in the cell with nothing but a fat chunk of time on his hands.

  However dark it got, and it was bleak, there was somehow a brighter side. Rasim grew closer to his uncle Vazir, his cousin Alf and Stanley. Vazir and Alf visited regularly and he learned so much about Pakistani tradition. Kamran had been willing to teach him too but it’s amazing how losing his father made Rasim appreciate his heritage and people even more.

  And then there was his son. A month after he was arrested, Stanley was released. They talked about their time together in prison and Rasim tried to make amends. But Stanley was different. The innocence in Stanley’s heart was stolen and Rasim would need to leave prison to repair the bond. It would take work but it was a job he was willing to take.

  Although Rasim looked to Allah for more help these days, he was still an ordinary man. Just like a child to his parents, there would be times where Rasim would follow the law but many more times where he would be disobedient.

  With that said, he sent a prison kite (contraband letter with specific instructions hidden in its pages) to Chance and Brooklyn to pay a willing convict to kill Terry and a wolf to kill Queen. Both executions were processed and completed.

  After speaking to Parker and Shawn through another prison kite, Rasim learned how Mindy and Queen conspired to keep him from his wife by denying her visitation. He added one and one together and realized she was probably the reason Snow abandoned him too. It enraged him that he allowed her into his life.

  “Jury, have you reached a verdict?” Judge Edward Tomlin asked.

  “Yes, Your Honor, we have,” said the juror with the wild curly fro.

  “What say you?”

  “We the people find Rasim Nami not guilty,” the woman smiled looking at Rasim, knowing he would appreciate the good news.

  Rasim leaned in, almost not believing his ears. He looked over to his left at his attorney who placed one hand on his shoulder while the other gripped his hand in a firm shake. “You’re free.”

  Rasim exhaled in disbelief.

  Six months ago it looked as if Rasim was a shoe in for a timeshare in the Federal Prison system but the prosecution had one hurdle to overcome. There was no way to convict him properly when Southeast Brian, who almost died after suffering a collapsed lung, testified in Rasim’s favor.

  It was virtually impossible to convict a man on an attempted murder charge when the victim claimed that he was shot by another shooter before he walked into the house. Of course it was ridiculous but Brian was so serious when he was on the stand that they had no choice but to believe him.

  It also didn’t hurt that while Snow was telling Alf her version of the story, when they were in the house, Rasim successfully scrubbed all of the gunpowder residue off of his hands with bleach in the guest bathroom. He also removed the bullets from his pocket and his prints off of the weapon.

  The prosecution was annoyed because they hadn’t counted on Southeast Brian’s betrayal.

  What man wouldn’t want justice?

  Even if Rasim hadn’t sent Brooklyn and Chance to his hospital with a get well soon card and wide eyes filled with future threats to Southeast Brian, he had no intentions on helping the state. His reason didn’t involve Rasim’s power or the quiet visits from his compadres. It was because although he owned a reputable business, he was still a man of the streets and there was a code.

  Besides, Snow made it clear after the ordeal that it would be best if they went their separate ways so there was nothing left to fight for. He didn’t even get the girl. Southeast Brian didn’t buck much, seeing as how her husband slumped his lungs and all.

  After winning his case, Rasim hugged his well-paid counselors, uncle, cousin and son and the party was over. He told Chance and Brooklyn that he would meet them later for drinks because he wanted a few moments alone.

  After being processed for release, Rasim slipped on his coat and dipped out of the courtroom. He moved down the hall, out of the building and away from the reporters with too much makeup on their faces and intimidating mics in their hands.

  It snowed earlier so his boots crunched against the ice as he made his exit. November was certainly chilly but he didn’t mind, at least he was free.

  Six blocks later he was still alone with the sounds of tires driving over the damp street. His thoughts kept him company until a beautiful woman with eyes as brown as caramel candies pulled up on him blasting Mary J. Blige’s voice through her speakers.

  ♪“You’re all…I need…to get by.♪

  ♪You’re all…I need…to get by,” ♪ Mary sang.

  Wow. It was Snow.

  Rasim blinked a few times because this could not be real. If it were an evil joke, he would not be able to survive afterwards.

  But if it was real…if she was really there, what a beautiful way to heal his broken heart.

  Snow, who looked like the six months had been very kind to her, turned the music down and said, “Need a lift?”

  Rasim tried to be smooth but you have to understand. He dreamed about this woman every day for the past six months. She was his life. She was his everything. So he threw coolness to the wind, rushed to the car and slid inside before she could change her mind.

  The brightness of her smile and the warmth of the heater running made him feel instantly at home. “Hello, Rasim,” she whispered.

  Rasim turned his body so that he faced her. He touched her face with the back of his hand. He battled with feelings of anger and love. “Why did you do me like this?” he asked softly. “Huh?” His hand dropped. “I almost killed a nigga fucking with you.”

  “I should be asking you the same thing.”

  He frowned. “How you figure?”

  “I have taken care of you all of my young life. I bathed you. I fed you and I loved you even when it was difficult. All I asked was that you protect my heart and you failed.”

  “So you go fuck another nigga instead?” he roared.

  “No,” she whispered shaking her head, as a tear rolled down her face. “So I go and try to be happy, Rasim. Don’t you see that? All I wanted to do was love you. But you couldn’t love me the way I deserved.” She wiped the tears away with her fingertips.

  Rasim turned around in his seat and focused on traffic to control his thoughts. “But the nigga was in your body, baby. Moving around and shit. Making you…I mean…Why?” He couldn’t verbalize it. It was like a horror movie.

  “You’re worrying about what doesn’t matter. Sex.” She paused. “You of all people should know that.”

  “Don’t be smart, Snow,” he said in a frustrated tone.

  “I’m serious. You should not have been c
heating in the first place, Rasim. You doing all this shit behind my back when you didn’t even ask me if I was with the shit.”

  He turned around to face her. “With what?”

  “I’ve never been with a woman but I realize things get dry sometimes in relationships. I really do. We’ve been together for over fourteen years, Rasim! Come to me and tell me you’re thinking about wanting something new and let’s pick someone together. If that’s what you want. But you don’t have me running around DC like I’m queen when lesser bitches have slept with my husband.” Rasim grew silent. “At the end of the day, you were scared to come to me and that’s weak on your part.”

  “I ain’t no weak man, Snow!”

  “And I never said you were,” she said softly. “I said the move you made was weak because you should have toughened up and been real with me.”

  “But that bitch didn’t mean anything to me!”

  “Then why are we here? Why were you locked up?” She paused. “You’re always talking about running intel on niggas when you forgot to run it on your whore.” Snow tilted her body and leaned against the window. “She didn’t want your dick, Rasim. She wanted my position and you operated as if it were a possibility.”

  Rasim rubbed his throbbing temples. She was right but he was still stressed.

  “You're so worried about sitting on the throne that you forgot about your queen,” she continued. “How could you?”

  Now he was angry. “I never forgot about you, Snow. Ever! I put it down to that bitch what it was from the jump. She just neglected to play her position that’s all.”

  He appreciated Snow’s independence and all but he was worried that she would act differently. He loved submissive Snow. But he wasn’t sure about this new independent bitch. Rasim needed to be with a woman who needed him, who could follow his lead. Every man did.

  “I know the new me is a little uncomfortable for you,” Snow continued as if she could read his thoughts. “I can see it in your eyes. Just because I speak my mind doesn't mean I don't love you or that I’m not willing to follow. I’m stronger now and I have you to thank.” She touched his hand. “Anyway, why would you want a lesser woman by your side? You run an empire with your strongest, never with the weaker. So if you’re my king, rule! And I will humble myself and follow your lead. Always.”

  He looked into her eyes again. “You know I’m coming back home, right?”

  She grinned. “What you thought I was here for my health?” she giggled. “Dinner is already on the table. Brooklyn, Chance and the twins are at the house waiting on you and everything. I called Vazir and Alf and asked them to come too, along with Stanley.”

  “Who cooked?” he grinned.

  “Mute Candy. And yes she made your favorite fried chicken.”

  His stomach grumbled in anticipation. He looked outside again at the powder falling from the sky. “If I ever find out you fucked another nigga, I will kill you, Snow.” He focused on her with serious intent. “I hope you can understand that.”

  “Then I guess we’ll be doused in blood. Because if you step out on me again, I can’t make any promises.”

  He looked her over. Damn she was beautiful. “You looking good, baby.”

  She observed her jeans, identified a few flaws and sighed. “I’m not going to lie, I don’t feel my best anymore.” She ran her hands over her thighs.

  “I can’t tell.”

  “I’m serious, Rasim. When you looked at me I felt your love. I felt sexy.” She grew serious. “And now I don’t anymore. I miss that.”

  “Yeah, you right.” He nodded. “Now that I think about it you do look a little fat.”

  Snow felt gut punched and she lowered her head. “Damn.”

  “In all the right places, that is.”

  She looked into his eyes and smiled.

  “Make time to laugh at the dumb shit. Besides, even with that flat butt, with a face like yours you still a ten.” They both giggled remembering the Strawberry Meadows days. “Say my name,” Rasim continued.

  With a wide smile she whispered, “Rasim.”

  He rubbed her face again and softly pinched her chin. “I love you, Snow.”

  “I love you, Rasim.” She paused. “And you can have sex with me if you want.”

  He chuckled harder remembering the first day they made love. “Snow, when we get in that house I’m breaking down walls in that pussy.” He gripped his dick. “Just so you know.”

  “Then let me take you home so we can eat and get them niggas out of our house,” she winked.

  “I’m with you, Mrs. Rasim Nami. Let’s roll.”

  And it was just like that.

  Just like it was in the Strawberry Meadows days, if we’re being honest.

  Snow Bradshaw, Rasim’s God sent angel, had made the decision to save his life.

  Again.

  AUTHOR NOTE

  Reviews are like little love letters from readers.

  Will you write to me?

  T. Styles

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