Page 20 of Own It

“I promise I don’t know anybody . . . I . . . Anyone involved in anything doesn’t know me, and I don’t know them. I swear,” I pleaded and explained at the same time, praying this was some kind of mix-up and that Ayan wasn’t thirsty enough to have me captured.

That had to be the reason for this because nothing else made sense.

I contemplated making it known that I knew his name but feared that would only anger him or, worse, make him shoot my ass where I stood.

Rakim made a face, running his large hand down his beard in vexation to show he was starting to tire of this back-and-forth with me. He also made it clear by his lack of response that he wouldn’t be elaborating further. I knew then, as my stomach roiled, that talking my way out of whatever this shit was would not work.

Silence lingered between us as the man watched me intently, awaiting on how I wanted to do things. Never one to bend and fold easily, I turned, dropping my beloved workbag that was much too heavy to take along with me, and darted off toward the front of the parking lot of my warehouse.

I was too afraid to look back and see if the man was chasing or to check how close he was, so I kept my eyes on the exit of the lot and the hundreds of cars flying up and down the street as if it weren’t nighttime.

If he was chasing me, he was preternaturally quiet, causing even more uneasiness to seep in and settle itself in the pit of my stomach. Fear had wrapped around me like vines on a tree, prompting me to beg God internally to save my ass.

“Fuck did I tell you?” That eerily deep voice that I’d just been conversing with startled me as he gripped my frame from behind. I could feel my bones attempt to leap from my skin and muscle as he held me in a vice grip.

The irritation in his voice was prevalent, rendering tears of fright from my eyes instantly.

“Hel—” I tried yet failed to launch a scream that was quickly blanketed by the man covering my mouth with a chloroform-ridden towel.

As panic surged throughout my body, my limbs wailed momentarily before wilting while my vision blurred. My mind turned into a cocktail of memories, loved ones, un-obtained dreams, and forfeited plans just before everything went black.

Hours later . . .

“Shit.” I awoke with a horrific headache, making it difficult for me to even open my eyes.

I attempted to sit up, but the searing pain had me incapacitated at the moment. Surrendering, I fell back onto the soft piece of furniture that felt like a mattress, and lay there, praying to God that what I recalled happening to me had just been a terrible nightmare.

The unfamiliar smell of the cold room I was in disproved this hope before I could even finish the internal prayer, making a tear slip from my still shut eyes.

Finally, my throbbing headache subsided enough for me to sit upright successfully and open my eyes. Like I’d already known before gaining my sight back, I wasn’t anywhere near home. The room was dark, but I could make out certain furniture in the abandoned but large bedroom.

Suddenly, a light flickered on as Rakim came into view, sitting on the edge of the desk and biting an apple like a psychopathic teacher holding me after class. The sight of him made me abruptly sit up even straighter as if I would be able to fend off whatever he tried with me next, making me realize I wasn’t tied up.

Sniffling, I asked, “Why? What did I do?”

I sat there as he watched me, taking one last bite of the completely diminished apple before tossing it into the small black trash can near his corduroy slipper covered feet. I tried to remain quiet but couldn’t stop the tears or the sniffling even if I tried.

Dabbing his mouth with a napkin, he said, “My cousin needs brain surgery, and instead of getting his operation, your father felt he should instead push the shit back and go kick it on fucking vacation.” Cocking his head some, he asked, “You think that’s fair, Daylin?”

“No, no, of course not.” I shook my head repeatedly. True enough, I was shocked to hear this about my father and halfway didn’t believe it. My dad wasn’t the best person, but he wasn’t evil, and a person would have to be evil to pull some shit like that. “But I can talk to him. I can convince him,” I lied, knowing my damn father saw no value in my words.

I wasn’t Serene.

“No,” Rakim stated with finality as he stood up. “Too late for all that talking shit. And judging by his ticket information I had pulled, the nigga is already at his destination.” He came closer, making me crawl back toward the wall that the bed was pushed up against in fear. Squatting down, he added, “And from what I know, he don’t even fuck with you enough for you to be able to convince him of shit, lil mama.”

He’d gotten me there, and I didn’t know how to take that or respond. The fact that some random man who didn’t know me or my father could easily pick up on my dad’s disapproval of me hurt a little bit.

“So then why the fuck am I here? Why didn’t you go for someone he cares about, according to you?” I shot back.

Smirking in a way that I typically would’ve found alluring under different circumstances, he said, “I ain’t say he don’t give a fuck about you. I said you can’t convince him of shit. He don’t respect you, baby. You the only one in the family that ain’t a doctor.”

I kept quiet, not wanting to confirm anything Rakim was saying, especially because he’d hit the damn nail on the head.

Instead of focusing on arguing with him, I let my eyes bounce around the big ass room to see how many exit points there were, including windows.

“I—”

“Don’t get any ideas. You not tied up, ’cause even if you got out, you wouldn’t make it far before I blew ya fucking head open. We far as fuck from wherever you think you may be, lil mama. I suggest you chill, cooperate, and don’t try to outsmart a muthafucka that’s one hundred steps ahead of you. I don’t wanna murk you, but I will.” He let his eyes linger on mine, and I knew it was to be sure I understood every word that came from his mouth.