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Authors: T. Styles

Tags: #African American, #General, #Fiction

Prison Throne (9 page)

BOOK: Prison Throne
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Snow’s black high-heeled boot pressed against the gas pedal as she zoomed up the highway on the way to Hains Point in Washington, DC. One hand clutched the steering wheel of her red Audi and the other gripped her belly. She was devastated because although he promised not to, Rasim hurt her once again.

When she received the news that he was seen in Selena’s black Suburban, she was on her way home to prepare Rasim’s dinner. The whistleblower sounded Latina and she was sure it was Selena’s funky ass.

What was wrong with him? Why was she never enough?

Although she attended the University of Maryland Dance Academy where she studied dance during the week, while Rasim sold dope on the streets, she made sure his meals were prepared every night.
And this was how he elected to repay her? With public humiliation?

When she assessed herself in the mirror, she couldn’t believe the sight. The mascara from her lashes smeared around her eyes, giving her a panda bear effect. Let’s not even talk about the condition of her light skin. It turned a shade of red not yet created in the dictionary.

It seemed like every other month, if he wasn’t in jail for bullshit, he was spotted with some bitch who thought because he looked exotic she had to see if his cum was sweet.

Miserable bitches!

Miserable Rasim!

For the past six years Snow had proven to be a good bitch. A real loyal bitch who didn’t pledge allegiance to the flag but to his dick.

And when Rasim found himself in the crack game, it was Snow who helped him cook in between her classes. She was beside herself with anger. He spoke of loyalty often. But what good was it to rep loyalty when the words held no weight?

When she made a right onto Ohio Drive in southwest DC, she followed the signs into Hains Point. The water, which enclosed the park, shimmered when kissed with sunlight. Any other time, it would be beautiful but the way Snow felt, she considered running her car into the icy Potomac River.

“God, I love this man,” she prayed. “I know you see my heart. Please don’t let what I’m told be true.”

As she steered her car around the perimeter of the park, it wasn’t
long before she spotted Selena’s black Suburban. It was in full bling mode parked near the Awakening sculpture. The art showcased a man who appeared to be climbing out of the ground.

Snow clutched the steering wheel tighter and pressed her foot harder on the gas. When she was closer, she parked any kind of way, jumped out, left her door open and shuffled toward the truck with clenched fists. Snow didn’t fight but she allowed her body to move as if she wanted to. She stomped harder than the most thorough marching band down south.

But soon her courage was gone. Because as she peered through the windshield, she witnessed her man in the passenger seat with his head hung back and his lids closed. Although it appeared that the driver’s seat was empty, she knew the real deal. Gone were the days of complete naivety. Snow was smart as a whip.

, them niggas slipping. What if I was the police?

Wanting to catch him in the act, she lowered her body and crept toward the passenger side. When she was upon the truck she banged heavily on the window with intentions to break it.

But her mouth fell open when she saw Selena’s jaws wrapped around her dude’s dick like a glove. Seeing his lady’s face, Rasim shoved the Latina by way of her forehead so that he could hop out and beg for Snow’s mercy.

However, Selena had other ideas. Behind Rasim’s back she grinned at Snow, turned the truck on and whipped it to the right as she fled the scene with Rasim in tow.

Confused, Snow darted into the middle of the street in an attempt to catch the truck but Selena was ghost.

Snow dropped to her knees and sobbed uncontrollably as she pounded the pavement so hard her hands bled.




The fireplace crackled as Snow curled up in a ball on her mother. She was sobbing uncontrollably into her breasts as Maureen rubbed her back. Snow was in full baby mode.

This had become such a common affair that although Maureen didn’t want her daughter hurting, she had grown slightly unsympathetic to the issue.

“I don’t know what else to do, mama,” she said as her tears dampened her mother’s shirt. “I love him so much but he doesn’t love me back. He doesn’t care how much he hurts me or how he makes me feel!”

Of course Maureen didn’t like the way Rasim was treating Snow but she also knew she went through the same thing with Lamont. So who was she to point a hypocritical finger? 

“You know Rasim loves you, Snow. But you gave him the key to your heart. So you don’t own it anymore,” she schooled. “The way I see it, is like this, you have two options and you must choose wisely. Either deal with the women that he will continue to have in his life,” she gently touched her face, “or leave. The outcome, although not easy, is totally up to you.”

Huffing and puffing, Snow rose up and looked into her mother’s eyes. “Can I move in here for a little while?”

“No,” her father said walking from behind the sofa. He wasn’t home at first and he moved so lightly, a skill he learned from his gangster days, that no one ever heard him coming before he wanted them to.

Lamont sat his suitcase on the sofa and lowered his head to kiss his wife before pecking Snow also.

              Maureen, beside herself with anger, smeared her husband’s affection away. “What do you mean no?” Maureen asked with a lowered brow. “Our daughter asked could she stay and it is our duty to protect her.”

“No it’s not, honey,” he corrected her, placing a gray clump of hair behind her ear. “It is our duty to ensure that she never runs away from her problems.” He looked over at Snow whose nose was beet red. “Sweetheart, you’re twenty-two-years-old now. You can’t run anymore. Now if you want to be with this young man, then you’re going to have to deal with the good and the bad. Once you’ve tried it all, and I see it in your eyes, then you’re free to come back home. But not a moment sooner.”




Snow was pushing a cart through Giant Grocery Store with a list in her hand. She had stared at it so long that suddenly she couldn’t read it.

Mute Candy, who had proven to be a champion in Snow’s life, removed the list from her hand and quarterbacked the shopping for the day.

As Mute Candy placed item after item into the cart, Snow suddenly doubled over and cried out. The pain she felt courtesy of Rasim’s latest Selena adventure was just too much. She felt as if her intestines were being rolled into a ball and stomped on. Her heart burned and her temples throbbed and when she tried to pull herself together, she felt paralyzed as she slapped onto the grungy floor.

Even Mute Candy, who didn’t cry for shit, dropped three tears.

When twin brothers, who were also body builders, saw the condition the young lady was in, they abandoned their cart stuffed with the finest meats, and ran to the dame’s rescue. “Is she okay?” one of them asked Mute Candy, staring at Snow with concerned eyes.

But because she couldn’t speak, she whipped out a pen and pad and wrote down her concerns.

The older brother with arms like Hercules read her words.
She has a broken heart. Can you help her to the car?

Without another written word, one of the brothers scooped her up like she weighed a pound and escorted her toward the exit. Once outside, Snow was situated in the passenger seat of her Audi. Mute Candy thanked both men by way of a nod and a sincere smile before they left to finish their shopping.

Rasim getting on my fucking nerves!
Mute Candy thought.

She was tiring of the way he treated her friend.

Mute Candy slid into the driver’s seat and studied Snow whose face was bloody red. Tears poured out of her eyes and dampened the collar of her shirt. Snow resembled a baby who drank juice without a bib.

Mute Candy touched her leg and tried to think of a formula to sign to make her friend feel better. But was one invented for the woman with a severed heart? If it was, she didn’t know the words.

So she simply rubbed her leg empathetically, located the list and completed Snow’s chore. Once again, as always really, Mute Candy made the right move. She decided to allow her friend the time to cry until she couldn’t anymore as she finished shopping.

Mute Candy was so valuable to Snow’s heart that Snow not only learned sign language but she mastered it. Once a month, she taught the language at a community college for free. Even Mute Candy learned a thing or two from Snow because she was that good.

When Mute Candy first left the group home and reconnected with Snow, Snow assumed there weren’t many people in Mute Candy’s life but that wasn’t the case. Although Diane Dallas was so far in the streets that she had become like a brick to a project building, there were many who loved Mute Candy, most of whom were her cousins.

Every last one of them learned sign language or a variation thereof because when Mute Candy loved, she loved hard and everyone benefited. Her love coupled with her super hero syndrome made her interesting to say the least.

Though she had many favorites, none was closer to her than Snow Bradshaw and that went for family too.

They were kindred spirits when you looked at it. Mute Candy didn’t speak because she couldn’t and Snow remained speechless because she could. As a result, they always understood one another.

              Once Mute Candy finished shopping, she drove her best friend home. She didn’t try to communicate but wanted Snow to know that no matter what, she cared about her. Their bond exceeded the boundaries of this world.

So when Snow was halfway to her destination, she wiped her wet face, turned her head slowly and said, “I love you too.”

Mute Candy grinned and piloted the car home.




Rasim’s temples pumped major blood as he sat in the passenger seat of Selena’s truck while she drove. When she sped away from his beautiful Snow at Hains Point without giving him the chance to talk to her, he contemplated doing what he did not respect, fracturing a female’s jaw.

But as Selena continued to navigate the ride, he went somewhere else mentally. It was almost surreal. Suddenly he was standing in the middle of the street begging for Snow’s love but just like that she vanished before his eyes.

Rasim had pushed the boundaries of hell with this latest move. Sure he fucked a bitch or two. And yes, Snow caught a number dangling out of his pocket when he got too drunk to record it in his phone and throw it away. But up until this moment she never, ever, caught him in the act.

How he wished he hadn’t left his silver BMW 3 Series in front of his parents’ house. He could’ve bounced on that dumb bitch a long time ago. But Selena enjoyed when she squired Rasim about town in her car because she could keep him longer, so he was at her temporary mercy. Plus Rasim’s dick was the biggest she ever had and she loved that most of all about him.

When Rasim saw Benning Road train station ahead he said, “Pull over.” It was the first thing he uttered to the bitch since she yanked him from Snow.

“Rasim, I know you not mad at me,” Selena confronted in a flair that only a sassy Latina could master. With one finger up, she swayed it back and forth like a windshield wiper. “It’s not my fault that bitch—”

She wanted to finish her sentence but who could with the glare he threw her way? It was a serious one too, one that could lead to a face pounding or a murder if Selena said just one more thing. If she wanted to survive, it was best that she grew as silent as a rock.

“If you ever disrespect Snow and call her out her name again, I can’t make any promises on what I might do to you,” he warned. 

When he looked at her chin he saw a drop of his sperm resting nicely. In her haste she didn’t get a chance to lick it off. Had she not been such a sneaky underhanded bitch, he would’ve alerted her so that she could erase it from her face before returning to her precious husband. But after the shit she pulled, he’d just as soon say, “Fuck you, bitch,” and keep it moving.

When the truck stopped, Rasim started to call Donald and ask him to come scoop him up since they slang dope not too far from the station. Instead he opted to take the train, which would allow him time to think.

His stomach grumbled when he saw Snow’s face again in his mind.

What the fuck is wrong with me?
He thought.
I’m about to lose the best thing I ever had.

If an outsider assessed the matter, they would assume that he didn’t love her but they would be so wrong. He adored her more than he knew how to express. But there was something about Selena that had him feeling silly at times. She was like a good bag of chips. Although he desperately tried, he couldn’t eat just one.

Sexy, freaky, slutty, spontaneous and all of the above could be used to describe her. You could also add sneaky, conniving and slick if you wanted to compile a proper list. Whatever her appeal, he couldn’t shake her and he cursed the Gods for the power she held over his dick.

It wasn’t even like she was available. She married a mechanic and had a kid by him. Not only that, Selena stood Rasim up so many times he was starting to think she didn’t fuck with him anymore. It was also rumored by a few hood boys that she said that although Rasim was as cute as baby lips, he wasn’t a man’s man. He wasn’t an alpha! Which was what she was attracted to.

So after he reached out and she wouldn’t return his call, he would allow thoughts of her to evaporate and that’s when she would call with something like, “I’m trying to fuck,” to break his resolve.

This shit was a mess! Of gigantic proportions and he didn’t see a good ending to the melodrama coming his way.




Since his car was out in front of his parents’ house, Rasim decided to visit with them first before going home. Lately things changed with the Nami family.

Over the years his father adopted rigid beliefs and it scared Rasim because he never knew the source of his aggression. When Rasim was coming up, Kamran was always supportive and loving and now he was militant and serious. As a result, they didn’t click anymore and it broke Rasim’s heart. But it didn’t stop him from loving him.

Before Rasim walked into his parents’ house, out of respect, he took a moment to slip on his Kufi, which was nothing more than a glorified costume.

When he was dressed, he bopped inside with the wide smile on his face that melted the hearts of women up and down the coast. But when he saw his mother, his blood pressure skyrocketed and the grin fell off.

Umar was sitting on the sofa, her face crimson. She had been crying so much that the light hijab she wore was mottled with tearstains.

Beside himself with fear, he rushed over to her and dropped to his knees so that they were at eye level.

What the fuck was going on in his world?

He could take a lot of things but seeing the two women he adored more than time and space weeping in the same day was too much for even Hitler to bear.

“Mama,” he said gripping her shoulders, trying desperately not to apply too much pressure, “what’s wrong? Is papa okay?”

She shook her wet face slowly. “No, my dear boy. It’s gotten worse.”

“What happened? Tell me,” he demanded.

Umar leaned in so that Rasim could hear her clearly. “I’m afraid he is involved with Al-Qaeda.” With that, she leaned back and her lips trembled.

Rasim’s rear slapped to the floor with the news. He didn’t know much about the militant group but he did know they didn’t fuck with America, the country he had grown to love.

The basics went like this. Al-Qaeda, which means “the base” in Arabic, is the network for extremists organized by Osama Bin Laden of Saudi Arabia. The organization got its roots when natives attempted to rise against the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan.

Thousands of mujahideen (warriors) came from the Middle East and, fortunately for these warriors, Osama had money to fund the war. The mujahedeen won against the Soviet Union and they all had Osama’s moneybags to thank.

              Feeling like a “G” since they defeated the Soviet forces, Osama went back to Saudi Arabia and funded an organization to help wounded soldiers. He was like a God to thousands of brave men.

With the win under his belt, Osama felt more powerful. So when Iraq invaded Kuwait in 1990 and his government allowed US troops to be stationed in Saudi Arabia, he went ballistic. He didn’t think Americans should be allowed to set up shop in the birthplace of Islam. But not all of his people were feeling his views and they kicked his ass out of his own country for anti-government activities.

After he was dismissed from his own land, after all he had done, Osama set up an Al-Qaeda shop (which most believe already existed) in Sudan and declared war against the US. Since he realized he couldn’t run the operation alone, he recruited a few rich bosses and they multiplied in numbers, money and power.

At the end of the day, the primary focus of Al-Qaeda was to drive Americans and American influence out of all Muslim nations. He also wanted to unite all Muslims, which was how Rasim’s father got pulled in.

Although evil, Osama was smart. He gained control using man’s most precious possession, his love for God.

At the end of the day Osama wanted all Muslims to follow the first caliphs. Under this order it is the duty of Muslims around the world to wage holy war on the U.S., American citizens and Jews. And any Muslim who failed to heed the call would be declared an apostate (someone who has forsaken his faith).

Rasim looked up at his mother upon hearing the devastating news. Kamran’s connection with Al-Qaeda explained why he had been acting so strange lately. He was possessed. “Where is he now, ma?” Rasim asked softly.

“Downstairs,” she pointed at the door leading to the basement. “With them.”

Rasim stood up and wandered over. Before entering he observed his mother once more. For some reason he felt as if life as he knew it would change forever, so something in his heart desired to savor his mother’s beautiful face.

When he was as ready as he was going to get, he walked down two steps and stopped when he heard voices. He wanted to remain out of view. With his ear hustling game intact, he observed the men speaking in Urdu, a language of Pakistani people and his father. Rasim wasn’t too fluent but he did understand the words ‘plane’ and ‘hostage’ very well. But how did they connect?

              When the stairs made a creaking sound, the men ceased talking and Kamran rushed to the foot of the steps only to see his son’s guilty expression.

Thanks to Rasim, the meeting was adjourned.

              When all of the men with features that resembled Rasim’s exited the home, he and his father were left alone.

Now Rasim and his pops sat face to face in silence. Usually when they were this close Kamran would touch his son out of love but everything changed. His expression was so hardened that he couldn’t formulate a smile if he desired to.

              Rasim looked down at his hands that were clutched in front of him. “Dad, don’t do it.” He didn’t have any details but he could tell by the dark air the men left that something was awry.

Kamran frowned. “You can’t ask me what you choose to ignore,” he said calmly.

“What does that mean?”

“War is upon us, son. Which side are you on?”

“Dad, you don’t know what you’re doing.” His voice was high pitched. “You and ma are computer analysts. Not soldiers.”

Kamran was insulted. His lips tightened. “Do you think just because you wear your Kufi costume when you’re in my home that you have the right to talk to me about my beliefs?”

Mental shots were fired.

“Dad, I’m not saying that,” Rasim exhaled. “And I’m sorry that I haven’t embraced the religion and the customs of our people like you have. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t have a right to love you.” Rasim decided he would no longer sit so close to his father and not express his love so he touched the top of his hand. “Dad, I’m begging you, whatever you’re planning please don’t do it. Think about me, your only son, and ma.”

When Rasim saw his father’s cheek bubble on the left side he knew that he was suppressing a cry. But instead of allowing the weight of Al-Qaeda to release itself from his shoulders, he swallowed it again.

Angry with Rasim for stirring up his emotions, he jumped up and said, “As long as you continue to deny Muslim beliefs and the damage that this country has caused to yours, you are not welcome in my home. Now leave!”

Rasim’s eyes widened as he heard the words he never thought his father would ever say to him.

Fuck no he wasn’t leaving!

Kamran was his man and he loved him!

So instead of bouncing, he rose and snatched his father into an embrace. For a second Kamran didn’t push back. But as if the levees were suddenly broken on a dam, he shoved Rasim with so much force that he toppled over the chair.

“Leave, Rasim,” Kamran warned pointing at the steps. “Your mother and I never want to see you again. If you choose not to, the next thing you hear will be the clap of my gun.”




Rasim sat in his BMW for an hour outside of his home. He heard the saying that you make your bed and you have to lie in it but there was a flaw. Rasim had two beds. One he made with Selena and the other that Al-Qaeda created. So where would he sleep?

This was all too confusing. First he had to deal with his parents and now it was time to handle Snow. Today just wasn’t his fucking day.

As he leaned back in his seat he thought about how sad Snow looked earlier and could only derive that at the moment she was an emotional wreck, especially since he hadn’t called.

Normally he would blow her phone up when he was caught cheating but considering his father and the mess he had gotten himself into, well, simply put, Rasim didn’t have any verve to spare.

              When he realized Snow needed him too he exited the car and strutted to the tiny home they owned off of South Dakota Avenue.

The moment he opened the door to his house he saw the table set with fried chicken, rice and spinach, but it was Mute Candy who was the chef.

Snow was balled up on the couch sound asleep.

BOOK: Prison Throne
2.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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