Hakeem quickly heeds his father's orders and steps out of my car. I'm grateful that the pounding has ceased. I was afraid he was going to smash my window in.

"You think you grown now? Not coming home and showing up whenever you want?" The man asks, clearly upset with Hakeem.

This time he seems sober. His words come out more calmly than when I last saw him.

"Since when did you care about me, anyway?" Hakeem asks. They haven't made an effort to move away from my car, so I can hear everything that's being said.

"Don't try to act big and bad now that your girl is here." His father says, roughly grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the building.

Hakeem stays silent, but I can see him clench his jaw. His father continues to shove him towards the building until they're out of my line of sight. Knowing what I know now, I find myself worrying about Hakeem's safety. But, I can't worry about his safety if I'm dead, so I step on the gas.

I need to get home before my parents do.

Thankfully, I make it back in record time and quickly cover up my tracks before going to my room and hopping back in bed.

Before I drift back into sleep, I hear my email notification sound. I glance at it and notice that it's from Johnson & Johnson law firm. A smile forms on my face. I can't believe I'm actually going to start working at a law firm.

The email tells me to come in tomorrow for my first day of training. It also includes other information such as appropriate work attire and pay day procedure.

I hear the door open downstairs, so I place my phone on the nightstand beside me and snuggle further into my blankets. By the weight of the footsteps on the stairs, I identify the person as my mother. I close my eyes, slow my breath, and pretend to be asleep. I hear as she pokes in her head to check on me.

She leaves and I let out the breath I was holding.

Soon, I find myself drifting into a deep sleep.

Hakeem's POV

"Who the f-ck do you think you are?" My father growls, his voice bouncing of the walls along with the sound of his callused hand connecting with my cheek.

He's been yelling at me about not coming home last night ever since Roxanne dropped me off.  I don't feel any remorse, I know he's just upset that he didn't have a punching bag for the night. Oh how I yearn to turn back time and have her in my arms again. 

He usually leaves me alone when he's sober, but I guess my absence set him off.

I sit silently, as I always do, absorbing the blows. With every hit, the rage within me burns brighter.

My father spews a plethora of curses at me. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be like this." He adds, sending another punch to my jaw. His strength propels me off of the chair I was on, and onto the floor. My head bounces off the cold tile, leaving me seeing stars. The rest of my body screams in agony as developing bruises, and old ones, feel the impact.

I know better than to move or fight back. My best bet is to lay still and hope my father gets tired. I lay there in a puddle of misery and pain.

Most guys my age spend their free days with friends and come home to parents that love them. But, I got blessed with my father, instead.

My father stops staring down at me when a knock sounds on our door. My dad walks out of our tiny kitchen and to the door.

"Police! Open up." I hear come through the door. My father lets out another string of curses. I guess they finally caught up to him. I think to myself. I decide to stay on the floor. My spinning head prevents me from doing otherwise.

The banging continues and I hear my dad finally open the door.

"We have a search warrant for this apartment Mr. Rashford." I hear who I presume is an officer say.

"Let me see that." I hear my father say. "I know y'all be faking these sometimes." He adds. A few moments of silence later, I hear my father say, "Whatever, you're not going to find anything."

I mentally scoff at his claim.

Within seconds, there are three police officers searching through our small apartment. They all walk past me, but only one stops to check.

"What happened here?" The officer asks, crouching down to look at me more closely.

I try to open my mouth, but the throbbing in my jaw prevents me from speaking. My hand shoots up to my jaw, attempting to massage it back to health.

"We need an ambulance at 45 Rogers Street. There's a young man here who looks badly beaten and he needs medical attention." The officer says into his radio.

He continues kneeling until one of the other officers returns wielding a gun. He's wearing bright blue gloves and immediately I know.

They found it.

The third officer walks in with a ziplock bag. The bag contains a fine white powder.

"Rodney Rashford, you are under arrest." I hear a fourth voice say from our front door. The officers who collected evidence were in the line of sight of the doorway, even though I couldn't see what was going on. I look up at the ceiling and watch as dark spots begin to form in my vision. 

"That stuff's not even mine! It's Hakeem's! That's why I hit him. He's a criminal!" My father begins yelling. That's the last thing I hear before my world turns black. 

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Hey hey :) 

Thank you all for 3.8k reads! I love all the votes and comments, so keep them coming ;) 

I finally let you guys have a little peek into Hakeem's life. What'd you think?

Why do you think the cops showed up? 

xoxo
-Gaëlle