Over the decades, their love had grown together, each being the other’s first sexual experience and yet Snow was essentially saying she was going to be with another man and that she didn’t want him anymore.
Picture that shit.
“Snow, what you doing? Why you even with this clown?”
The Security Officer assumed he wouldn’t fire if he had his wife with him, which was why he didn’t shoot at Rasim either. “We leaving, Rasim.” The Security Officer said. “Just put the gun down. You don’t want to hurt Snow and we don’t want trouble. All we want is to go about our life.”
He would’ve been better off not saying a word. Angry beyond belief at how he held his wife’s hand like she belonged to him, Rasim fired at the Security Officer and caught him in the meaty part of his thigh. “What the fuck?” he yelled as the gun dropped and toppled out of his hand. “You fucking shot me!” He leaned against the wall and dropped.
“Rasim, what are you doing?” Snow screamed with her hands covering her mouth when she saw him fall. “It’s over! Just leave me the fuck alone! You trying to go back to jail? Huh?”
“Snow, get the fuck back in the room,” Rasim demanded. When she didn’t move he said, “I’m not fucking around with you. You don’t want to test my limits right now. Trust me.”
Realizing there was no reasoning with him, she dipped into their bedroom and waited for whatever happened next. Little did she know, her husband was just getting started.
Quick visions of their sexual exploits whipped through Rasim’s mind again as he crept up the steps. His plan was to kill him, nothing more and nothing less. When Rasim was standing over him, the Security Officer yelled, “What the fuck is wrong with you? What are you some type of terrorist?” he said taking jabs at his race.
With the windows open, Rasim’s nosey next-door neighbor Bridget heard the words she always knew were true. That the Nami family was involved in terrorism and now she had proof. She saw the security guard walk Snow in earlier and figured he said it. Feeling validated, she rushed inside to make a call with the proper remix of course. In her story a cop was involved and a member of Al-Qaeda.
From inside of the home, the Security Officer yelled, “Please don’t shoot me again, man. I don’t want to die.”
But there was no use. Rasim knew he had been with his wife and he would never be able to live knowing that he was walking around in the world. So he fired into his chest and watched his eyes as they widened before closing.
In all of the commotion, he didn’t realize that the outside of his home was suddenly flooded with SWAT vehicles. When Rasim saw the police moving toward the house, he dragged the Security Guard’s body in front of the middle door. He wanted to hold him for ransom. Just in case.
Afterward, he tried to go into the bedroom with Snow but she locked it shut. “Open the door, Snow!” he yelled. “Since I’m going back to jail, we have to talk.”
“No!” she responded. “Stay the fuck away from me! You have gone too far now and I don’t trust you.”
Rasim glanced behind him out of the broken window downstairs and saw more officers approaching. He wanted to talk to her alone before he was taken and arrested. It may be the last time they would ever get. “Snow, please! I won’t hurt you. Just give me a few minutes.”
“Stay the fuck away from me, Rasim. I’m serious.”
Frustrated, Rasim hustled into the guest room and waited. The moment he locked the door, the house phone rang. Reluctantly he sat the gun on the bed and walked over to it. He picked up the phone and placed it against his ear. “Are you in charge?” an officer questioned.
Rasim shook his head in disbelief. His entire life was over now and he knew it. He sat on the edge of the bed. Sighed and said, “Yes.”
“My name is Alf Herman and I was told that a man was shot inside of your home,” he spoke calmly. “Can we send someone in to get him?”
“No.” he paused. “Not unless I tell you my story.”
“Okay, we can do that down at the station.”
“No.” He paused. “In my home and on my terms. That’s the only way I’m letting him go.”
CHAPTER
23
MAY 2014
WASHINGTON, DC
PRESENT DAY
Alf Herman was stunned silent as he sat in his chair with his eyes glued on the door. Although Rasim and Snow did a supreme job of storytelling, they purposely avoided anything pertaining to murders or their drug crimes. In the end, most of their fabrication involved Rasim and the many women who loved him.
Because he couldn’t talk about his father without hurting, he even left out the suicide. Rasim mentioned the story of his father’s death as if he was murdered in a gun accident.
Even the narrative about Rasim reentering prison received a final cut. The only thing Alf was told was that he went to prison with one mission in mind, to help his son and that he never meant to lose his wife in the process. Nothing about the fractured jaw or the murder.
There was one other detail omitted since Rasim’s story stopped at him receiving the surprise for an early release while still in prison. Who was the gentleman lying on the floor with blood pooling out of his body?
“I heard your stories. But can you tell me his name?” he called out.
“His name is Southeast Brian Goodwin,” Rasim said through clenched teeth. “He was with us at Strawberry Meadows. That’s how she met him,” he said with hate in his voice.
Brian had been there all along.
When she was crying in the Movie Room, the day Rasim swung her panties around in the air at the home, Brian tried to console her when she sat on the couch but she said to leave her alone. When she cleaned Rasim’s bed and folded his clothes, Brian told her that Rasim was using her but she said to leave her alone. When she and Rasim played Spades together for the first time, Brian was in the corner hating with his boys. And the day she left the center, due to catching Rasim telling his friends about how he fucked Selena, Brian, who was leaving on a pass, asked Snow if she wanted a ride. This time she said yes.
Southeast Brian had been there all the time lying in wait for Rasim to fuck up but in his arrogance, Rasim never noticed.
Alf exhaled because Southeast Brian was a civilian. At least he was not an officer. It wasn’t like he felt comfortable turning around and calling off the SWAT team either. But realizing blue blood wasn’t spilling on the floor upstairs brought him a little relief.
In the hopes of saving the man’s life it was time to play the last card. “Rasim, I haven’t been totally honest about who I am.”
“Meaning?” he yelled.
“Before coming I pulled your sheet,” Alf responded gaining authority and momentum. “I know you aren’t the kind of man people think you are. You aren’t a terrorist.”
“You don’t know shit about me,” he yelled.
“I know a lot about you,” he said confidently. “Including some things you didn’t share with me in your story. I know that your father killed himself, believing that he betrayed Al-Qaeda for not participating in the terrorist attacks of 9/11. I know that he loved you very much and his decision to commit suicide changed the course of your life forever. And I know that you are a good man trapped in a bad situation.”
Silence.
“Rasim, may I bring in someone who has been waiting patiently to talk to you for years?”
Originally he was going to say no but he was going to jail anyway. So what did he have to lose? “Is it another cop? ‘Cause there’s one cop too many in here right now if you ask me.”
“He’s not a cop,” Alf responded honestly. “Please trust me.”
At that time, Rasim heard a slight Urdu accent that wasn’t present before. Had he hidden it the entire time? If so, why?
“Go ahead. I’m waiting.”
Alf waved outside and instructed the visitor to come in. Although Rasim remained behind the door, he wanted to know who was so important in his home.
“Rasim, may I see you?” the man yelled to the doors.
When he finally heard the voice of a man very familiar, his muscles weakened and he dropped to the bed.
“Rasim, please, I would like to talk to you. Come to me now.”
Horrified that he may be hearing things, Rasim opened the bedroom door at a snail’s pace. When he dawdled toward the banister and looked down, just as he thought, he was staring into his father’s face.
But how? The last time he saw his corpse was at the funeral. He watched them sit him into the ground.
And then he remembered something important. He didn’t know much because it hurt Rasim’s father too much to talk about. Rasim’s father, Kamran, had a twin brother who married rich and his name was Vazir. Could that be him?
Rasim gripped the banister unarmed and looked down. Southeast Brian’s body lay at his feet. “What…how…?”
“Son, I need you to come down here right now!” Vazir roared raising his hand for him to hold. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what is going on. Come now, Rasim!”
Rasim’s body wanted to obey the man with his father’s features but he couldn’t move. After all, he stood as tall as his father, which forced automatic respect to enter his heart. And then suddenly he grew angry. “How could you abandon your own brother?” he yelled remembering bits of the story Kamran told him briefly. “If you were in his life, he may still be alive today. He may be with me now.”
Vazir looked down at his hands and stuffed them into his pockets. “You’re right. If I had been in my brother’s life, and yours, he may still be alive.” He paused for a moment. “And this may not have been your fate. Trust me, son, I grapple with the fact that my family was destroyed every day. But I married a woman who I didn’t love for money. In exchange for financial freedom for myself and my brother so that he could have the proper schooling in computer technology. When she died due to complications, I came to America to reunite with your father but he refused to see me. I even brought my son, his nephew, to meet him but still he declined and I never got a chance to see him. My son is your cousin. Who stands right here.” He pointed at Alf Herman or as his full name dictated, Alf Herman Nami.
Rasim trembled.
Snow wanted to open the door to lay eyes on the men who were her husband’s blood. But she decided against it.
“Are you saying that this cop is my cousin?” Rasim asked looking at him.
Vazir nodded.
Rasim shook his head and wiped his hand down his face. “But why like this? Why are you meeting me now?”
“I’ve been in the country for thirty years. But Kamran, for fear of your emotional safety, forced me to stay away. I respected my brother’s wishes even though I visited you as often as I could in secrecy. However, you spotted me a few times, after his death. Although I don’t think you believed I was real.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was at the funeral. I was there when you married your beautiful wife. I was there when you were coming out of a body shop recently. I have always been there.”
Rasim remembered seeing his father at various times but he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, which was one of the reasons he gave up liquor and weed.
Vazir looked at Southeast Brian who was not moving. “Rasim, come. Come now and end this. Do not put another blemish on our people in a country I know you love. Please.”
Ashamed, Rasim gripped at the banister and slowly he crept down the stairs until he was eye-to-eye with the man who looked like his father.
Vazir gripped Rasim and hugged him tightly. It was only for a second because SWAT rushed in and brought Rasim to his knees. His face was pressed against the broken glass as handcuffs were slapped on his wrists. When they had a hold of him, they yanked him up roughly. This shit took too long and they were irritated.
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.