Raven had so much pent-up emotion that she snapped and attacked back. “What is wrong with you?” she screamed as she swung her arms wildly.
Unfazed by her punches, Mizan hemmed her in quickly, holding her firmly against the wall. He held her face so tightly that his fingertips made bruises appear on her pale skin.
“Let me go!” she cried as tears of contempt burned her eyes.
“Bitch, let me tell you something. Fuck your pops. I’m not impressed by him or what he did in the streets. Don’t get me twisted with none of them ho-ass niggas he had working for him. You better watch your fucking mouth when you talk to me. You tell me to respect another man in my house again and I will break your jaw. I don’t give a damn if he was your father or not. I’ma give you a pass right now because I know you’re not thinking straight, but after today you better remember one thing. I’m Daddy now,” he said through clenched teeth. The rage brewing in his eyes terrified Raven. It was the second time he had put his hands on her. After it had happened the first time, she had made an excuse for him. She blamed herself, thinking that he loved her so much that she was the only person who could take him there. Now it had happened again, and although it broke her down, somewhere inside she accepted his actions. She justified them, thinking that he only acted that way because he cared about her. She closed her eyes as he held her in place. She was so young, so vulnerable. She was a little girl trying to do big-girl things, and her decision to live with Mizan was slowly proving to be more than she could handle. Following his lead had led to her father’s death, but for some odd reason she did not want to leave. She could never see herself willingly letting Mizan go. Her young heart was under siege and being held captive by Mizan. No matter what he did to her or how much he took her through, she would always be there for him, which was why she slowly submitted to him. She stopped fighting back, and as Mizan looked down at her crying face, his grip loosened.
He had never meant to fall for Raven. She was only supposed to be a pawn in his plot to get on top, but the young, fair-skinned beauty before him was the hottest chick in the game. All she needed was a bit of grooming. He let her go and she slid down the wall until her bottom hit the floor.
He sauntered out of the room casually, as if a conflict between them had never occurred. “Fix yourself up. You don’t want to be late,” he said before he disappeared down the hall.
Raven grabbed her car keys off the table and ran all the way to her car. When she was locked safely inside she pulled down the visor and examined her damaged face.
Fuck him! I’m done with him. That’s the last time he’s going to put his hands on me.
She wanted to mean the words, but she knew that all he had to do was say he was sorry and she would go right back. She wiped the wetness away and pulled out of the driveway, heading for her parentshome.
She tried her best to cover the red marks on her face and neck, but no amount of foundation would hide them. Her skin was too light and the bruises too deep to conceal. She got out of the car and reluctantly walked into the house.
“Rae!” Morgan signed. She instantly brightened up at the sight of her older sister. She ran over to hug Raven.
“Hey, Stank,” she greeted glumly as she wrapped her arms around her. Morgan’s royal blue dress made her look like a princess. Raven smiled and wished she could go back to that age when everything in the world seemed so simple.
“What happened to your face?” Morgan signed curiously.
“Nothing, Morgan. I fell, that’s all. I’m going to talk to Mommy. I’ll be right back, she signed back insecurely. She made her way up the stairs and entered her parentsbedroom. The scent of her father still lingered in the air, and she froze at the doorway.
“It doesn’t even feel like he is gone,” Justine stated. Her back was turned to Raven as she stood with a champagne flute in her hand, but she was a mother and she felt her daughter’s presence behind her. “I am going to miss that man.”
“Me too, Mommy,” Raven whispered. She inched into the room and took a seat on the bed. Raven lowered her head and remained quiet until her mother turned around.
When Justine saw the bruises on her daughter’s face, her mouth fell open. Her hand went numb, sending her glass to the floor where it shattered, spilling champagne on the hardwood floor.
“Oh, baby,” Justine whispered as she put her hands on her daughter’s face. Water immediately built up in Raven’s eyes.
“He hit me, Mommy. He told me he loved me and then he took it away,” Raven sobbed.
“Oh, my precious baby girl,” Justine said, her voice filled with hurt. She wished that she could take away the pain that her daughter was feeling, but when a man breaks your heart there is nothing anyone can say to help it mend. “How many times?”
“Twice,” Raven replied honestly. “He’s good to me though, Mommy. I love him, but sometimes the look in his eyes scares me, Mommy.”
Justine sat next to Raven and wrapped her arm around her, while Raven’s head rested on her mother’s shoulder.
“We didn’t want this for you, Rae. You were supposed to marry a doctor or lawyer. A senator or engineer. We tried our hardest to keep you from falling in love with a thug because this entire street life is a game, and every player has a position. You chose to be wifey, Rae, and a wifey is not the same thing as a wife. That’s what you young girls have mixed up. You think being a man’s main woman gives you prestige. You think it gives you clout, but it makes you look like a fool, Raven. Being wifey means that there is a mistress behind you and a ho behind her. You all are ranked. You should not have to be number one, because when a man really loves you, he will make you his wife. The wives are the only ones who matter, but even they go through the heartache. The bruises, the blowout fights, being called bitches and hoes ... it’s all a part of the game.”
“It’s not like this all the time though, Ma. Most of the time we’re good. I just can’t believe that Mizan would do this to me,” Raven exclaimed as she sniffled loudly, releasing the weight from her shoulders. She was handing her burdens down to her mother, the one person she knew she could trust.
“That’s the type of man you chose, Rae. No matter how well they treat you in the beginning, they can’t help but discipline you every once in a while. And when they do it, they do it hard. A man who lives his life in the street can’t help it. It’s all they know. They either saw it happen to their mamas growing up, or they have so much anger built up inside of them that they take it out on you. It’s the price you pay for the lifestyle you lead. You can find a man who won’t touch you, Rae. He’ll treat you as if you were made of gold, but he’ll be a square-ass nigga. Your father spoiled you, Raven, and he started something that only a street-savvy man can finish. That’s what draws you to Mizan, and that’s what attracts you to Ethic.”
“To Ethic?” Raven exclaimed.
“Yes, Ethic,” Justine stated matter-of-factly. “Don’t think I don’t notice how you look at him.”
“Ethic’s not feeling me, Raven replied honestly. “Trust me. I’ve tried.”
“Raven, you have all the things that a man like Ethic desires. You just don’t know how to use what you got to get what you want, that’s all. You will learn that as you mature into a woman. Ethic is not your average hustler. He will take care of the lady he chooses, but he doesn’t want someone he has to carry every step of the way. He needs a partner who can help him get money. Not just spend it.”
“I just want a man like Daddy. Daddy was perfect,” Raven replied with an exasperated sigh.
Justine couldn’t help but laugh at that one. “Girl, your daddy was far from perfect. There is no such thing as the perfect man, Rae. That’s why I never taught you about Prince Charming as a little girl. Men cheat. They lie. They manipulate. They control. All men have flaws. You just have to find the one who works for you. Marriage is founded on love and tolerance because you have to put up with a lot of bullshit.”
“At least Daddy didn’t hit you. I never even heard Daddy raise his voice at you,” Raven replied proudly.
“Just because you never saw or heard us fight does not mean that it did not happen. Daddy hit me, Rae. He did not abuse me, but he and I had our fair share of fights. Mostly when we were young, but it did happen. He knew what being with a man like Mizan would mean for you. Why do you think he was so against it? Men are possessive, especially hustlers. They see us as their trophies, as objects, which is why they can be so gentle one moment and so hostile the next. If you want to be with Mizan, this is what you are going to have to deal with. Don’t think that he is going to change, because he won’t. A woman can’t change a man, but a man can change a woman in the worst way. Do you love him?” Justine asked.
“I do,” Raven replied.
“Then you punish him hard this time. Don’t go rushing right back to him. You let him know that you have someplace else to go, so that next time he will think twice before he raises a hand to you,” Justine instructed. She touched her daughter’s stomach and smiled. “You have a baby to think about. You and Mizan are going to be okay. You two have created something so precious together. It’s not just about the two of you anymore. You have to think of what’s to come.”
Raven looked up in shock. “How did you know I was pregnant?”
“Someone once told me that when you lose someone you love, you gain someone you love. I believe that. Plus, wide hips don’t run in our family and you’re looking a little bit too thick, baby,” Justine teased, making her daughter smile. “Now, come on. Let’s get your face together so we can go say good-bye to your father.”
Chapter Ten
Every hustler in Flint came out to say good-bye to the infamous Benny Atkins. Mt. Pisgah Baptist was filled with the elite of the underworld as they piled into the church to pay their respects.
As Raven sat next to her sister and mother they all held hands, anxiously looking out of the tinted limousine windows. The rainy day matched their somber mood; it seemed fitting for the occasion. They each dreaded the task ahead of them; unprepared to say farewell to the man they loved. Their lives felt so incomplete without the head of their household. While on the outside they presented a strong, united front, on the inside they were broken and torn. The limo came to a stop in front of the church doors where Ethic stood waiting, dapper in a black Ralph Lauren suit. He was well groomed, from his fresh Caesar haircut to his clear, manicured nails. He had cleaned up nicely, and the sight of him made Raven insecure. She went into her purse and pulled out her M•A•C compact to examine the bruises on her face and neck. Her mother had helped her cover them as best she could, but there was only so much that makeup could do. Raven’s skin was so light that she could almost pass for white, and on a complexion so fair nothing could be hidden. Ethic opened the door for them and they all exited the car. Raven got out last and turned her head so that he would not see her face as she made her way into the church.
The condolences of her father’s associates came one after another and Raven quickly grew overwhelmed in the sea of faces. She smiled graciously, but she did not hear a word they said. She was on autopilot. She had to turn her emotions completely off to prevent herself from breaking down. Her mother led the way through the crowded church with grace, holding on to Morgan and accepting the attention like the queen she was. Raven, on the other hand, felt trapped. She felt claustrophobic in the tiny space, and she began to hyperventilate. She grabbed her chest as she took a deep breath and stopped walking.
This is too much. I’m not ready for this,
she thought. If she had been high she could have floated through the entire funeral, but she had chosen not to hit lines that morning on purpose. She owed her father more than that. She would never show up at his funeral under the influence of narcotics. She wanted to feel every emotion and remember every detail of their final farewell. This day was the last day she would ever see him again and she was ill prepared. She had no idea how hard it was to let someone go until she stepped foot inside Mt. Pisgah. Just as she was about to retreat, she felt a reassuring hand on the small of her back.
“Everything’s gon’ be a’ight, ma. I promise, Ethic whispered in her ear as he gently pushed her toward her seat. He played bodyguard to her and prevented anyone else from speaking to her. He then escorted her to her father’s casket. Raven’s body trembled with every step she took.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered. She turned to leave, but Ethic pulled her into his body. His solid frame felt safe ... secure ... right. She closed her eyes tightly. “I can t ... I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this,” she whispered over and over as she began to cry; huge tears cascaded onto Ethic’s suit.
“You can. You can do this. If you don’t, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. I got you. Let’s go see your father,” Ethic whispered privately as all of the attendees’eyes focused on the two of them. He was so supportive and attentive. He was doing what she had needed Mizan to be there to do.
Ethic put her arm in his and held her hand as he walked her down the aisle. She finally reached her father’s casket. A sob escaped her when she saw his face. She hardly recognized the man lying in front of her. Her father had always appeared so strong, so in control, so powerful. The man before her resembled the exact opposite. His ashen, wrinkled face was hardly recognizable.
“What did they do to you?” she asked aloud as she searched for any trace of familiarity in her father’s face. She went into her Gucci clutch and removed the photo of herself. By leaving it with him she felt that he would always have a piece of her. She leaned over her father and kissed his face, while placing the photo inside of his suit jacket pocket. “I love you Daddy. I will always love you.”
When Raven made it to the front pew she exhaled in relief. She was grateful for all the sympathy people were showing her family, but hearing the sadness in their voices only intensified her own grief. “Thank you,” she said to Ethic. Without him, she would have never made it down the aisle.
Ethic didn’t reply. He simply nodded and went to take his seat. The service was one big blur to Raven because she never took her eyes off her father’s body. This was the last time she would ever see him in the flesh, and she wanted to absorb all of him while she still had a chance.
Justine sat reserved through the service, allowing her tears to flow freely, but never making a sound. Appearances had always been important to Benjamin, and she acted accordingly, as he had taught her many years ago. She wanted her husband’s legacy to live on and refused to put on a show. She carried herself like a true lady. Although she wanted to scream from the pain she was feeling, she remained reserved as she gripped her daughtershands.
Morgan appeared to be the most heartbroken of them all. At six years old, she did not understand why her father had been taken away from her. Her usual grown persona reverted to the innocent child that she was. She was crushed, and she buried her head in Raven’s shoulder as she cried through the entire eulogy. She felt cheated because Raven had gotten to know their father. She had gotten to impress him and make him proud. Morgan felt like she had received the short end of the stick because before her time to shine had come, Benjamin had been murdered.
Benjamin had left his three beautiful girls behind, and his death affected them all, changing the courses of their lives forever.
Mizan sat outside the church waiting patiently for Ethic to emerge. He was the last person on his list to hit and he had undoubtedly been the hardest to touch. Ethic had arrived at the church in one of the family’s limos, not knowing that Mizan had attached an explosive device beneath the vehicle. He was just waiting for the right moment to detonate the bomb. The funeral would be the perfect place to make an example out of Ethic. After today, everyone in the city would know not to fuck with Mizan. He was going hard and he wanted any nigga who was thinking of coming at him to think twice before testing his hand. Three hours passed and finally mourners began to flow out of the church. As they came through the doors, Mizan sat up in his seat, scanning each head, trying to get a glimpse of Ethic. He held a small metal box tightly in his palm, and wiggled his index finger over the red button. He literally held Ethic’s life in his hands.
He watched as Raven and her family came out of the church. His eyes followed her every move. The natural sway of her hips caused him to smirk, because he knew that she belonged to him.
I own that,
he thought arrogantly. He was proud to have her on his arm. There was nothing like a boss having a bad bitch by his side. He felt badly for putting his hands on her, but if she wanted to be his girl, she had to learn to respect him before all others, including her father. If she did not learn the easy way, he was going to teach her the hard way. Her father had placed her on a pedestal so high that she carried her superior attitude with pride. Mizan planned on knocking her so far down that her confidence level would be at an all-time low. Raven was hardheaded, but by the time he was done with her she would be the perfect wifey: beautiful, obedient, and dependent.
“Where is this nigga?” he mumbled to himself as he refocused his attention on the doors of the church. He slouched down in his seat to avoid being noticed by anyone. “He went in so he got to come out.” Mizan’s eyes narrowed when he finally noticed Ethic exit the building. He smirked in satisfaction knowing that he was about to gain the upper hand.
Ethic walked out of the building with an entourage of bodyguards following him. His presence was powerful and commanded respect, as he stepped with the confidence of Denzel toward his limo. Ethic knew that he was a moving target. Six of Benjamin’s most trusted lieutenants had been murdered in the past week, and he was sure that he was next on the list. He did not know who was behind the takeover, but he fully intended on finding out. To the average eye, it seemed Ethic had come to town and been enlisted by Benjamin. The streets knew him as Benny Atkins’up-and-coming protégé, but they were sadly mistaken. Ethic was the birdman and the old woman who Benjamin had copped his work from was Ethic’s great aunt Dot. His intention was to move like a ghost through the streets of Flint. A real boss didn’t reveal his status and Ethic had no problem humbling himself in order to remain inconspicuous in such a ruthless environment.
Hailing from humble roots in Kansas City, he had a drug ring that stretched all over the Midwest. He had an operation in almost every state, and Benny Atkins had been one of his biggest buyers. Benjamin had intended on increasing the number of bricks he ordered on consignment, and before Ethic agreed to the deal he wanted to personally ensure that his bricks were in safe hands. He came to Flint and joined Benjamin’s operation to remain low key. No one, except Benjamin and Aunt Dot, knew that he was the connect. Now he had more than a hundred bricks missing and his largest customer was dead. Ethic was not a fool. Yes, the police had killed Benjamin, but he was well aware that someone else had played a role in how everything had gone down. He did not know who, but he planned to find out.
He unfastened the buttons on his suit as he walked underneath the umbrella one of his goons held for him. He nodded at the limo driver and went to get into the car, but halted when he noticed Raven getting inside of the car with her family.
He stepped out and grabbed the umbrella from his goon. “I’m good, fam. Follow me in your whip,”he instructed as he walked off toward Raven.
She looked up, and when she saw him approaching, she tried to hurry into the car.
“Raven!” he called.
She turned around nervously and looked at the ground while she shuffled her feet from side to side. She felt like she had to be accountable to Ethic, almost in the same way that she was accountable to her father, and the last thing she wanted him to do was notice her face. She did not want Ethic to know that Mizan had hit her.
“Come take a ride with me,”he said. He was always so authoritative with her. He never gave her room to say no. “I need to rap with you about... .”
Knowing that she could not avoid the inevitable, she lifted her head and looked Ethic in the face. There was no hiding behind the dim church lights now. She was out in the daylight and every imperfection on her once exquisite face could be seen. He stopped speaking midsentence as he stared at her damaged face. He grabbed her chin and turned her head from side to side so that he could see all that had been done, yet he showed no emotion. No anger. No sympathy. No nothing. He was stoic and expressionless.
Ethic exhaled as he stared at Raven. He had seen so many young girls go down the path that she had chosen in the name of love, but he knew what love looked like, and what he was staring at was not it.
“He did this to you?” he asked, his voice even. On behalf of her father, Ethic had no problem stepping in and handling the situation with Mizan, but he was not going to waste his time. He knew the routine of chicks who got sucked into abusive relationships. They always went back, and Ethic did not have time to be in the middle of a lover’s quarrel, because once he intervened there would be no turning back. Ethic did not play games. He would murder Mizan, and from the look in Raven’s eyes, he knew that she did not want that.
Raven nodded her head, admitting that Mizan had hurt her, as she willed away the tears in her eyes.
“Are you going to leave him?” he asked.
Just as he had suspected, she shook her head and replied, “He didn’ t mean to. Things just got out of hand. We just need a little time apart ... some space, you know?”
He averted his gaze from her in disappointment. Seeing as though Raven was bred from strong stock, he had expected her to be smarter than the average chick, but she was just the same. She would not realize that Mizan was no good until it was too late, and if she did not want to help herself by leaving him alone, there was nothing that Ethic could do. He would not step in to her rescue because she was right where she wanted to be; no one was making her stay except herself. He put the umbrella over her head and said, “Walk with me.”