11. Derek’s Destiny

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains emotionally intense scenes involving a car accident, descriptions of injury, and themes of grief and trauma. It also explores feelings of guilt, helplessness, and the impact of a tragic event on the characters involved. Reader discretion is advised.

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DEREK

"Something on your mind, Princess?" I asked, a sly grin curling my lips as I caught the fire blazing in Destiny's eyes.

She was pissed, no doubt about it. We were riding in the backseat of my chauffeured Escalade, two security guys up front, completely oblivious to the tension simmering in the back. They were focused on keeping us safe, doing their job, but in that moment, I was the one in real danger, and they didn’t have a clue.

Destiny was sitting there, silent but fuming, and I knew better than to underestimate her. She was liable to pull one of those serial killer moves she’s always reading about, right on me. I could feel the heat radiating off her, and it wasn’t the kind you wanted to get close to.

I knew I’d fucked up the minute I woke up and saw the aftermath—Marcy’s voicemails ripping into me for not sticking to the PR plan. But it wasn’t her I was worried about. I knew the shit was gonna hit the fan the moment Destiny got her hands on her phone. So, I tried everything to keep her off it that morning. I ordered breakfast, brought it straight to the bed on a tray and presented it to her before she even opened her eyes. I made sure she was too busy enjoying my mouth on her in the shower to think about anything else. But all of that went out the window when Eden’s FaceTime came through. Destiny didn’t hesitate to answer, thinking it was about the Jubilee.

Eden was hyped, damn near screaming about that video that blew up online—the one I posted in a wild, stupid-ass moment, not even thinking about the consequences. It was everywhere now—gossip sites, local news, hell, even national entertainment shows were running it. Millions of views in hours on my page and others. And now, Destiny was looking at me like I was the last person on Earth she wanted to be around, despite how I had her submitting to me just last night.

I could still feel the heat from her body, the way she melted into me, but all that seemed like a distant memory with the way she was ice cold now. That video turned everything upside down, and I was paying the price for a move I thought was harmless in the heat of the moment.

“Fuck off, Derek,” Destiny spat, yanking her hand away like it burned just to touch me.

I couldn’t help but chuckle because her fire, her stubbornness, always made me want her more. She knew damn well she was turning me on.

“Keep that up, and I’ll fuck all that attitude right outta you soon as we get home,” I warned, leaning in close, my breath brushing against her ear.

She sucked her teeth, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to break through her pissed-off facade.

“Leave me alone, I’m still sore from last night,” she whispered, low enough that the guys up front couldn’t hear a thing.

“Then act right,” I murmured back, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. “Unless you want another round of punishment. Thought you learned your lesson.”

“You’re the one who hasn’t learned your lesson,” she shot back, her grumble laced with frustration. “I should be getting my period today, that should be a good enough punishment for you for a whole week.”

“Destiny, I hardly drive, you think I give a fuck about running a red light?” I asked with a shrug.

She opened her mouth to say something and then stopped, shaking her head in disbelief at my nonchalance. I knew she was sick of me, but I couldn’t help messing with her.

“I can’t believe you uploaded that damn video,” she mumbled, staring out the window like she was hoping it’d swallow her whole.

I smirked, trying to defend myself. “I was drunk off pussy and power, Princess. I wasn’t in my right mind.”

“Clearly,” she muttered, but I caught the slight crack in her armor. The fire was still there, but it was flickering, not raging.

I let out a deep sigh, running a hand down my face. “First, I get in trouble for defending you, now it’s ’cause I’m telling the world I’m in love with you. Jesus Christ,” I said, shaking my head like I couldn’t believe my own damn luck. “This shit don’t make a lick of sense.”

“Derek, we didn’t agree for you to go on the internet and tell them all our business,” she shot back, crossing her arms and giving me that look that could freeze hell over.

She was right, and I knew it, but I wasn’t about to just roll over.

“Well, nobody told you to have that 80s cocaine pussy,” I shot back, tapping the side of my head like I was breaking down some deep wisdom. “Got my brain scrambled, can’t think straight when you put it on me.” I started scratching my neck like a fiend, channeling my best Tyrone Biggums, exaggerating every move like I was jonesing for a fix.

“I’m itching right now from the withdrawals,” I joked, eyes wide, voice cracking just a little for effect.

She tried to keep her scowl, but a laugh slipped out, and that was all I needed to know I wasn’t completely in the doghouse.

“Derek, you’re so damn stupid,” she said, finally cracking a smile which actually seemed to piss her off more, like she didn’t want to give me the satisfaction.

I smiled, my hand finding its way to her thigh, the warmth of her skin grounding me in the moment. “I love you, Destiny Ann Boseman,” I said, my voice low and sincere, every word carrying the weight of the truth. “And I want the whole damn world to know it.”

But she wasn’t having it. She looked at me like she was searching for something, like she needed more than just words, even though I meant every single one of them.

“Derek, this isn’t about love or showing off,” she finally said, her voice steady but laced with that edge I’d come to know too well. “It’s about trust, about keeping what we got between us until we’re ready. You can’t just throw our business out there ‘cause you’re feeling some type of way.”

Her words cut, but I took them, knowing she was right. Still, I wasn’t backing down. “I hear you, Princess, but I’m not hiding how I feel. Not anymore. You mean too much to me to keep quiet about it.” My hand stayed on her thigh, my thumb brushing circles against her skin, trying to reassure her that I was serious, that this wasn’t just some impulsive move.

But the stubbornness in her eyes told me this conversation wasn’t over yet.

Destiny rolled her eyes and turned her body toward the door, staring out the window, clearly wanting to tune me out. As we pulled up to Freedom Park, it was like the whole damn city had shown up. Marcy wasn’t playing around when she insisted on heavy security today, and now I could see why. My team had scrambled to organize this last minute toy giveaway for the kids and set up a moment for me to address the cameras. To be honest, I thought it was all over the top, but Marcy insisted, so I went with it.

The truth was, for every person out there hating on me, there were a hundred more who loved D-Truth. Mr. Lyman could bark all he wanted, but I was a giant compared to him—my voice would drown his out without even trying. But I’d been wanting to get more involved in the community anyway, do something public. Up until now, everything I’d done for Juniper was anonymous, though folks had probably figured out it was me, or I’d make donations on behalf of my parents.

And if I’m being real, I was also doing this to ease Destiny’s mind. I could tell her everything was gonna be fine until I was blue in the face, but I knew she needed something tangible, something she could see and touch, to believe it. She needed to see that I was serious about this, about making sure what she worked so hard on was untouched by Mr. Lyman’s bullshit.

As we pulled up to the tent set apart from the crowds, a slow smile crept across my face. There they were—my parents, Ant, Marcy, the rest of my team—and someone I definitely wasn’t expecting. The SUV hadn’t even come to a full stop when I saw Hakeem, looking like he was about to melt in the Juniper heat.

“Aye man, roll these damn windows down,” Hakeem barked, knocking on the glass, sweat dripping down his forehead. Juniper summers hit different, and he wasn’t built for it.

“Man, what the hell you doing here?” I asked, cracking the window just enough to talk.

“Forget all that,” Hakeem shot back with that thick Bronx accent. “You disappear from New York, and now you out here claiming new bitches?”

I felt Destiny shift next to me, uncomfortable, and it set something off inside me.

“Hakeem, I will have this driver run your ass over right here in broad daylight if you ever refer to my woman as a bitch again,” I warned, my tone deadly serious.

“Chill, man, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, like, yo bitch. You know what I’m sayin’?” he replied, like his explanation made it better.

“Ignorant ass,” I muttered, already regretting letting the window down.

“That’s her back there?” Hakeem leaned in, trying to get a look. “What’s up, sweetheart? I’m Hakeem. Derek’s best friend, sometimes assistant, sometimes weed man—” He reached his hand past me for a handshake.

I wasn’t having it. I rolled the window up, trapping his hand inside.

“Drive this motherfucker!” I barked at the driver.

He didn’t hesitate, and the car lurched forward, forcing Hakeem to jog alongside, his hand still stuck in the window.

"D, man! What the fuck?" Hakeem hollered, his voice half-panic, half-exasperation. The whole tent erupted in laughter, even security and Destiny, who was trying her best not to let it show.

"Been tryna get you to do some cardio," I said, keeping a straight face like this was just another day.

"Man, let my arm go, you crazy ass nigga!" Hakeem yelled, desperation creeping into his voice.

"Put this treadmill on 10," I said to the driver, deadpan.

The driver sped up just a little, making Hakeem pump his legs harder, sweat pouring off him like he was running a marathon. He looked like he was two seconds away from passing out.

"Fuck you, D!" Hakeem huffed, his voice strained.

"Aight, that's enough," I finally chuckled, instructing the SUV slow down and come to a stop.

I rolled the window down, and Hakeem stumbled back, grabbing his arm and bending over to catch his breath. "You’re a fucking psycho, you know that? I hope your girl sees that now so she can leave yo ass!"

I turned to Destiny, who was barely holding back a laugh. "You leaving me, Princess?"

"No, Derek," she sighed, rolling her eyes, but the corners of her mouth were twitching. "But you are psycho," she said, backing Hakeem up without hesitation.

"Now why would you agree with his ass?" I asked, genuinely curious, squinting at her like she’d just betrayed me.

"Because who does that, Derek? You really just made him run like Forrest Gump because you trapped his hand in the car. You have learned absolutely nothing about staying calm when it comes to me."

I smirked, leaning in a bit. "Bet you won’t put me out on the couch again, though."

She raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Try me, Michael Myers."

Michael Myers? My girl was really out here talking to me like I was some kinda psycho for real. I hadn’t fought anybody or gotten arrested in years—okay, so it had been like two days since I gave Johnathon a little nudge with the car, and mere seconds since I released Hakeem’s arm—but still, I was a changed man.

"Michael Myers? Really?" I shook my head, pretending to be hurt. "That’s cold, Princess. I’m out here trying to grow, be a better man, and you got me out here looking like I’m ready to start slashing."

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "You might be trying to change, but your methods are still a little... aggressive."

I leaned in close, brushing my lips against her ear, my voice dropping low. "Aggressive? Nah, that’s just love. And if you keep pushing, you might find out just how much I love you."

She shot me a look that was equal parts amused and exasperated, but I knew she wasn’t mad—at least, not anymore.

"Besides, you watch true crime to fall asleep," I shot back, shaking my head. "You listen to that murder shit while you’re working. Who’s the real psycho here?"

"Maybe both of y'all are psychotic, and that’s why y'all ended up back together," Hakeem chimed in, still rubbing his sore hand and catching his breath.

"Nah, nobody asked you anything," I snapped, giving him a side-eye.

Destiny pointed at me, her grin mischievous. "I only read and watch killers. You’re the one living it out in real life."

I leaned in, my voice dipping low. "Destiny, I swear to God—"

"Aye man," Hakeem cut in, still huffing and puffing like he just ran a track meet. "Can ya’ll scoot over so I can get a ride back to the tent?"

"Nah, nigga!" I said, waving him off. "Walk yo ass."

"What?"

With that, the driver pulled off again, leaving Hakeem standing there dumbfounded. As we rolled back to the tent, I could see Ant and my dad laughing, while my mom shook her head like she’d seen this all before. I made sure the driver didn’t open Destiny’s door—she was gonna come out on my side, whether she liked it or not.

When we stopped, I got out first and reached for her, even though she was acting like she didn’t want me to hold her hand.

“Bet Destiny been whooping his ass in the car for putting out that video,” my dad chuckled, his voice full of amusement.

“Just make sure we got a shovel ready in case she needs help with the body,” Ant added, deadpan.

I shot them both a look, irritation creeping into my voice. “Ya’ll know I can hear ya’ll, right?” I said, glaring at my traitor ass family who clearly had no problem watching me dig my own grave.

But they just laughed it off, acting like I wasn’t even there. My dad slapped Ant on the back, both of them grinning like they were in on some inside joke, while I was standing there, just trying to make it through the day without getting disowned—or worse, dumped. They breezed right past me like I was invisible, all of their attention zeroed in on Destiny.

“Mama, help me out here!” I called out, desperation creeping into my voice.

But my mom didn’t even look my way. “Destiny, you look so pretty, honey! I just love this dress,” she said, opening her arms wide for a hug, practically pulling Destiny into her embrace.

I sucked my teeth, feeling a combo of irritation and resignation. It was cool, though. I let them have their moment. Seeing how much they loved her, how easily she fit in with them, made it all worth it. As long as she was wrapped up in their affection, I could deal with being invisible for a minute. After all, as long as they loved her even half as much as I did, everything was gonna be alright.

Marcy walked up, clipboard in hand, flanked by a couple of my other team members who looked just as focused as she did. She didn’t waste any time.

“Alright, D, here’s the deal,” Marcy started, flipping through her notes. “We’ve got the toy handout scheduled first. You’ll be hitting the stage in about fifteen minutes to hand out the first batch. The kids are already lined up, so you’re just gonna go out there, flash that smile, and make it happen.”

Jace, chimed in. “After that, we’ve got the press set up a little ways down. They’re ready for you to make your statement. Keep it light, keep it positive—this is about the Jubilee and the excitement for the performance. We want everyone focused on the good vibes, nothing else.”

Marcy nodded in agreement. “Exactly. We’re gonna shut down all that noise from Lyman’s camp by focusing on what really matters—celebrating Juniper and giving back to the community. You just do what you do best, and we’ll handle the rest.”

I nodded, taking it all in, my eyes flicking over to Destiny every few seconds. I knew I had to stay focused, but my mind kept drifting back to her. Still, I had a job to do.

“Alright, let’s make it happen,” I said, my voice steady as I mentally prepared for what was next. The sooner I knocked this out, the sooner I could get back to making sure Destiny was good.

Marcy turned her attention to Destiny, giving her a warm but serious look. "Destiny, I need you to stay close by Derek today. It’s important for people to see that the organizer of this event is standing by him. Your support is gonna speak volumes, especially with everything that's been going on."

Destiny nodded, her expression softening a bit as she glanced at me. I could see she was still annoyed, but she understood the importance of the moment. Marcy’s eyes didn’t miss a beat as she continued, “This isn’t just about Derek performing. It’s about showing unity, showing that Juniper stands together, no matter what noise comes from the outside.”

Just as Marcy finished speaking, the mayor walked up, his presence immediately drawing attention from the people around us. Marcy, ever the professional, didn’t skip a beat.

“Mr. Mayor,” she said, turning to him with a smile that was both polite and commanding. “Thank you for being here. It’s important that you stay by Derek’s side as well. We need to show a united front—let everyone see that this Jubilee is something the whole community is behind.”

The mayor nodded, looking between me and Destiny. “Of course, Marcy. We’re all in this together. Juniper is our home, and this event is about celebrating that.”

Marcy gave him a firm nod, then looked back at me. “Alright, D, you ready to do this? We’ve got your family, the mayor, Destiny—all of us standing with you. Let’s make it count.”

I glanced at Destiny, who gave me a small smile despite everything. Then I looked at the mayor and my team, all of them ready to back me up. The weight of the moment hit me, but instead of feeling pressured, I felt a surge of determination.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” I said, my voice strong. “Let’s go give these kids a day they won’t forget.”

The tent buzzed with excitement as kids lined up, their eyes wide with anticipation as they spotted the toys. I grabbed the first box, a bright red fire truck, and handed it to a little boy whose face lit up like he’d just won the lottery.

“You like fire trucks, lil man?” I asked, crouching down to his level.

He nodded, clutching the toy to his chest. “Yeah! My dad’s a firefighter!”

“Then you got the perfect one,” I said, giving him a fist bump before turning to the next kid in line. One after another, I handed out toys—dolls, action figures, board games—making sure each kid felt like they were the only one in the park with me.

“Hey D-Truth, what’s your favorite song you’ve made?” a young girl with braids asked, her voice full of curiosity.

I thought for a moment, pretending to be deep in thought. “You know, I love all my tracks, but the one I’m working on now might just be my favorite. You’ll hear it soon, aight?”

She grinned. “I can’t wait to hear it!”

I took pictures with them, talked about everything from school to staying out of trouble. And as I did, I realized something that hit me hard: I’d never had anything like this growing up. There weren’t no big events where some dude you admired handed out toys and made you feel special. I wanted to make sure every single one of these kids left here feeling like they mattered, like they were seen.

As I handed out the last of the toys, the tent buzzed with the excited energy of kids who’d just gotten their favorite gifts. The smiles on their faces were contagious, and for a moment, I felt like I was looking at a younger version of myself—full of dreams and big ambitions.

Just as I was about to stand up, a little boy, maybe nine years old, approached me with a shy smile. He had a baseball cap turned backward and a confidence that reminded me of my younger self.

“Hey, D-Truth,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “My name’s Derek too, and I wanna be a rapper just like you.”

That caught my attention. “Oh yeah? Another Derek in the rap game, huh? You got any rhymes for me?” I asked, genuinely curious.

His eyes lit up, and he nodded quickly. “Yeah! I got one right here,” he said, tapping the side of his head.

“Alright then, let’s hear it,” I encouraged, stepping back a bit to give him space. The crowd around us quieted down, sensing something special was about to happen.

The little Derek took a deep breath and then launched into his rhyme, his words flowing with a raw talent that reminded me of why I fell in love with hip-hop in the first place. The crowd, including who I realized was his mom was standing nearby, started cheering him on, their voices mixing with the beat he was creating with his words.

When he finished, the crowd erupted in applause. I gave him a dap, impressed by his confidence and skill. “That was dope, lil man! You keep working on those rhymes, alright? You got something special.”

His mom, who had been clapping along with everyone else, caught my eye. I recognized her from back in the day but couldn’t remember her name—we’d gone to school together, though we hadn’t really talked much back then. She smiled at me, clearly proud of her son, and I nodded back, acknowledging the connection we shared, even if it was just a small one from the past.

As I turned back to Derek, I crouched down to his level again. “You know, when I was your age, I had big dreams too. You keep chasing yours, and who knows? Maybe one day, we’ll be on the same stage.”

His eyes widened at the thought, and he nodded enthusiastically. “I will, D-Truth! I promise!”

“Good,” I said, giving him a final fist bump before standing up.

With that, I moved on to the last few kids, but I couldn’t help but glance back at the little Derek as he proudly showed off his new toy to his mom. Seeing him reminded me of why I was doing all this, why coming back to Juniper mattered so much.

As I finished handing out the last toy, I glanced over at Destiny. She was standing off to the side, watching me with that look in her eyes. It was that same look she always gave me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention, like she was seeing something in me that I didn’t even see in myself. I knew she’d been annoyed with me this morning, but the way she looked at me now... I could tell she loved me, even when I was on some bullshit. And that right there, that’s all I needed to keep pushing.

As the kids wandered off with their new toys, I straightened up and took a deep breath. I could see the press gathering, cameras flashing as they prepared to grill me on everything that had gone down with Mr. Lyman. The accusations he threw around had people talking, but I wasn’t about to let his noise drown out what I was trying to do for Juniper.

I shot Destiny a quick glance, giving her a reassuring smile before heading over to the press area. Marcy was already there, managing the crowd with the precision of a general. She caught my eye and signaled that everything was in place.

“Ready?” she asked, her tone calm but serious.

“Always,” I replied, rolling my shoulders to loosen up. This wasn’t my first time dealing with the press, but with everything that had gone down, I knew I had to be on point.

I stepped up to the mic, the chatter quieting down as all eyes locked on me. The flashes from the cameras were blinding, but I kept my focus. I wasn’t here to be flashy—I was here to set the record straight.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” I began, my voice steady and clear. “I’m here today to address the recent concerns and accusations that have been thrown around by Mr. Lyman. I know there’s been a lot of talk about my involvement in this year’s Jubilee, and I want to be completely transparent with you, so hit me with your questions.”

A reporter from the local news station raised her hand, and I nodded for her to go ahead.

“D-Truth, Pastor Lyman has accused you of using the Jubilee for personal gain and has expressed concerns about the influence you might have on the youth here in Juniper. What’s your response to that?”

I paused for a moment, letting the question hang in the air before answering. “Mr. Lyman has every right to his opinion, but let me make one thing clear—I’m here for the people of Juniper, especially the youth. I grew up here. I know what it’s like to not have much, to feel like you don’t have a voice. That’s why I’m using mine now. The Jubilee is about bringing this community together, about showing these kids that they can be anything they want to be.”

Another reporter jumped in. “But what do you say to those who claim you’re exploiting your fame?”

I leaned forward, my eyes locking onto the reporter’s. “Exploiting my fame? Nah. I’m using my platform to give back. Everything I do, I do with Juniper in mind. The events, the donations, the time I spend here—that’s all for my people. If Mr. Lyman or anyone thinks that’s exploitation, then he doesn’t know what it means to give back.”

One last reporter, a guy I recognized from one of the national outlets, asked the question that everyone had been waiting for. “Do you think Mr. Lyman’s concerns are valid, or do you believe this is just a case of him trying to undermine your influence in Juniper?”

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “I think Mr. Lyman and I want the same thing—we both want what’s best for Juniper. But we have different ideas of how to get there. My focus is on empowering the next generation, on showing them that they can achieve anything if they put their mind to it. Use myself as an example. I’m not here to undermine anyone. I’m here to uplift my community.”

I stepped back from the mic, signaling that I was done. The reporters started shouting more questions, but Marcy stepped in, cutting them off. “Thank you, everyone. That’s all for today.”

As I started to walk away from the press area with my security on both sides, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I’d said what I needed to say, and now it was time to let my actions speak for themselves. Destiny met me halfway, a proud smile on her face as she slipped her hand into mine.

As I turned to walk away, feeling like I had said my piece, a reporter’s voice rang out above the crowd, stopping me in my tracks.

“D-Truth, what about your relationship with Destiny, the organizer of the Jubilee? Can you comment on the video you posted last night?”

I sighed inwardly, knowing this was coming but hoping to avoid it. I glanced at Destiny, who was standing by my side, her hand still in mine. Her expression was calm, but I could see the slight tension in her shoulders. This was the part of my life I had always kept private, but I had put it out there for the world to see. Now, I had to own it.

I turned back to the crowd, my grip on Destiny’s hand tightening just a bit. “I knew ya’ll were gonna ask about that,” I said with a half-smile, trying to keep it light. “Yeah, I posted that video. And yeah, this is my girl, Destiny. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and when I came back to Juniper, I came back for her too. She’s been with me through a lot, and I’m not hiding that.”

Another reporter jumped in, her tone a little more probing. “Given your history with E’Lana, do you think it’s fair to Destiny to be so public about your relationship now?”

I narrowed my eyes slightly, my protective instincts kicking in. “Look, Destiny’s not E’Lana. And this isn’t about comparing the two. Destiny’s been a part of my life way before all the fame, and she’ll be here long after. This isn’t some publicity stunt—this is real. And I’m not about to let anyone question that.”

The murmurs among the reporters grew louder, but I could tell they were starting to get the message. Another voice, one I recognized from a tabloid, piped up with a sly grin. “D-Truth, you’ve been known as a notorious bachelor for years. Now that you’ve gone public with Destiny, are there wedding bells in the future? Are you gonna put a ring on it?”

I almost smirked, catching Destiny’s eye as a faint blush crept up her cheeks. I turned back to the reporter, leaning into the question with a confidence that came naturally when I thought about her.

“Let’s just say this—Destiny’s been the one for a long time. Whether there’s a ring or not, she already knows where we stand. But if and when it happens, ya’ll will be the last to know,” I added with a chuckle, letting the crowd know the subject was closed.

I glanced down at Destiny, who was looking up at me with a mix of pride and something softer, something that made me realize just how deep our connection ran. I wasn’t just speaking for the cameras—I was speaking to her too, making sure she knew that I meant every word.

“Any more questions about my relationship with Destiny, you can save them,” I added, my tone firm. “We’re good. That’s all ya’ll need to know.”

With that, I turned and started walking away again, this time not stopping as the reporters continued to shout questions. Destiny squeezed my hand as we moved away from the press area, her smile now fully relaxed, her tension eased.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, but I caught it.

I nodded, giving her a slight smile. "Always, Princess. Always."

Out of nowhere, I heard someone huffing and puffing behind me. I turned to see Hakeem dragging his tired ass over, ruining the moment.

“You just now making it back?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You been gone this whole time?”

“You left me for dead, miles away!” Hakeem wheezed, trying to catch his breath, exaggerating like he always did.

“Fool, you were on the other side of the park,” I shot back, shaking my head. “We been here for like an hour.”

“Man, look…”

“This is why I keep telling you to work out with us,” I said, cutting him off. “Imagine a real crisis happens, and your ass is struggling to move.”

“Ain’t nothing poppin’ off in this square ass town. I’m straight, don’t worry ‘bout me,” Hakeem waved me off like it was nothing. Then he turned to Destiny, flashing that grin of his. “Anyway, what’s up, Mrs. D-Truth? Anything I can get you?”

Before she could answer, I stepped in. “She’s good.”

Hakeem just laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. I see how it is.”

“Hey lovebirds!” Eden's voice pierced through the air like a fire alarm, her usual over-the-top energy on full display as she bounced over to us. As usual, she didn’t bother to read the room—just came in loud and proud, oblivious to the tension hanging in the air.

I had been thinking we were cool after she told me where Des was the day before without hesitation. But then, this morning, her excited ass went and snitched on me without a second thought, blowing up my spot like she was trying out for TMZ or something. Now I wasn’t sure where to place her in my mental Rolodex—friend, foe, or just the annoying little sister I never had.

Destiny shot me a side-eye, clearly still not over the whole situation, and I had to bite back a sigh. Eden, on the other hand, just stood there, beaming like she was about to announce some great news, completely unaware of the fact that she’d help to throw a wrench in my morning.

But that's Eden for you—always in the mix, whether you wanted her there or not.

“Now that we’re a sneeze away from the Jubilee—” Eden started, but before she could finish, a screech split the air, sharp enough to pierce our eardrums.

My instincts kicked in before my brain could catch up. That yellow Monte Carlo. It was a blur at first, but then everything snapped into focus.

“Mr. House! Oh my God, he’s gonna—” Destiny's voice trembled with panic, her words swallowed by the sudden roar of the engine.

The car tore through the fence like it was paper, barreling straight toward the crowd of attendees who were starting to head out of the park.

Chaos exploded around me, like a bomb just went off, and the world shifted into a nightmare. Screams sliced through the air, frantic and terrified, as everything went to hell in seconds. I didn’t even think—just moved. I grabbed Destiny and Eden, practically throwing them into Ant’s arms as he appeared out of nowhere, solid as a rock.

“Get them outta here!” I shouted, my voice rough with panic. But before I could even process it, my two security guards were already on either side of me, moving like shadows, clearing a path through the madness.

My legs were on autopilot, driving me forward like I could somehow stop the unstoppable. But then I saw it—something straight out of a nightmare. That damn car, a metal monster with no soul, kept plowing through everything in its path. No mercy, no slowing down, just tearing shit up like it had a personal vendetta.

The crunch of metal twisting and breaking, the screams that went from scared to soul-shattering—they hit me like punches to the gut. One of the guards tried to pull me back, but I shook him off. I couldn’t turn away, couldn’t let go of the helplessness that was suffocating me, wrapping itself around my throat like a noose.

For a second, time stretched out, every heartbeat like a drum in my chest, slow and heavy. And there I was, in the middle of all this chaos, feeling that crushing weight on my shoulders, knowing deep down that no matter how fast I ran, no matter how hard I fought, there were some things that just couldn’t be saved.

It hit me hard—right then, right there—that all the power and fame in the world couldn’t change the fact that sometimes, life just doesn’t give a damn. And that realization? It was like a punch to the gut that left me standing in the wreckage, unable to breathe.

The hospital waiting room was a sea of tension and quiet murmurs, a stark contrast to the chaos we’d just left behind at Freedom Park. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the low hum of hospital machinery and the occasional beep from a passing nurse’s cart. Destiny sat beside me, her hand gripping mine like she was holding on for dear life, her eyes glazed with shock. Across from us, my mom was whispering a prayer under her breath, while my dad kept a stoic face, his arms crossed over his chest like he was trying to hold it all in.

Ant paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the linoleum floor. He hadn’t said a word since we got here, but I could see the rage simmering just beneath the surface, the way his jaw clenched every few seconds. Hakeem was slouched in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs, staring at the floor like he was trying to piece together what had just gone down. Eden was next to him, scrolling through her phone, probably trying to get updates on the situation from the news.

“Any word yet?” I asked, my voice low as I looked over at Ant, who stopped pacing long enough to shake his head.

“Nothing,” he muttered, running a hand over his head. “Doc said it’s gonna be a while before we know anything.”

I nodded, trying to keep my own anger in check. It felt like the walls were closing in on me, each second stretching out into eternity. That yellow Monte Carlo had come out of nowhere, plowing through the park like a damn wrecking ball.

I flashed back to that first night at Destiny's crib, when that same damn Monte Carlo was tearing through the streets like it owned the night. It had just plowed into something, and Destiny mentioned she’d been meaning to report it. Nate had seemed a little too familiar with the whole situation, like it was just another Friday.

This wasn’t some isolated incident; it was the same old reckless shit that had finally spiraled out of control. Mr. House had been out here wildin’ for too long, and now it had come to this. The man was dead, and we were left standing in the wreckage, not knowing the fate of all those innocent people he tried to drag down with him.

The reality of it hit me hard—this wasn’t just some regular night in Juniper. This was the moment when all the loose ends unraveled, and the consequences of letting shit slide came crashing down. The tragedy of it all weighed heavy, knowing that this could’ve been avoided, that maybe if someone had spoken up sooner, things wouldn’t have gone this far. But now, there was no going back.

Ant's fists clenched at his sides, the frustration rolling off him in waves. "He had no damn business behind the wheel. They should’ve taken his keys a long time ago."

My dad nodded, his face lined with the weight of too many years and too much wisdom. "You know how Mr. House was. Stubborn as a mule. As soon as Jenny turned her back, he was behind that wheel. He didn’t listen to nobody, not even his own family. Not Jenny. But it’s still no excuse. This didn’t have to happen."

I felt Destiny tremble beside me, her head buried in my shoulder as she tried to hold back the tears. My arm tightened around her, trying to give her some kind of comfort in the middle of all this chaos. But I could feel the same anger boiling up in me that was eating Ant alive.

“Courtney said he had a heart attack while he was driving, that’s why he lost control,” my mom added, her voice quiet, like she was trying to make sense of it herself. “The doctors confirmed it. He didn’t even know what was happening when it all went down.”

Ant shook his head, pacing the length of the waiting room like a caged animal. "I don’t give a damn what they say. This could’ve been prevented. You know how many times folks tried to get him off the road? But no, they let him keep driving, and now look at this. Kids in the hospital, families devastated, all because of what?"

“Ant,” my dad said, his voice a warning, but I could tell he was holding back the same kind of rage. My dad was a man of restraint, but even he had his limits.

Ant stopped pacing, turning to face us, his eyes blazing with fury. "Nah, Pop, this ain’t right. We keep letting shit slide in this town, and then when it all comes crashing down, we wanna act surprised. Well, I’m done with that. Mr. House ain’t the only one to blame. This whole damn system let this happen, and they gonna pay for it."

I knew Ant was right. Mr. House was just one piece of a bigger problem, one that had been brewing in Juniper for years. But now wasn’t the time to point fingers, not when those kids were fighting for their lives just a few doors down.

“Ant,” I said, my voice low but firm. “We’re gonna deal with this, but right now, we gotta focus on what’s important. Those kids and their parents need us, Big Bro.”

He looked at me, the fire still burning in his eyes, but I could see he was trying to rein it in. For now, at least.

“You’re right,” he muttered, running a hand over his head. “But this shit ain’t over.”

“Derek,” Destiny’s voice was small, barely audible, but it snapped me back to the present. She looked up at me, her eyes swimming with tears she was trying to keep in check. “What if—what if something happens to one of those kids? What if…”

“Don’t go there,” I cut her off, squeezing her hand. “We’re not thinking like that.”

“But—”

“We’re gonna wait,” I said firmly, though I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince her or myself. “We’re gonna wait and see what the doctors say. And then we’ll figure it out.”

She nodded, but I could see the doubt lingering in her eyes.

Eden finally looked up from her phone, her face pale. “The media’s all over this.”

“Let them talk,” I grumbled, not really caring what the media was saying at this point. I just needed to know that all families impacted were gonna be okay.

Just then, the door to the waiting room swung open, and a doctor stepped in, his expression grave. The room went dead silent, all eyes on him as he approached us.

“Mr. Harris?” he addressed my dad, but I knew he was talking to all of us.

“That’s me,” my dad said, standing up, his voice steady.

The doctor took a deep breath before he spoke. “We’ve stabilized the injured. Bumps and bruises for the most part they’ll easily recover from physically, but for one...it’s not good. We’ve got one child in who was severely hurt, he’ll likey stay critical after surgery. We’re doing everything we can, but it’s touch and go.”

Destiny gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she tried to stifle a sob. I pulled her closer, holding her as tight as I could, trying to shield her from the reality of what we were facing. But the truth was, there was no shielding any of us from this.

“Thank you, Doctor,” my dad said, his voice thick with emotion. “Just… keep us updated, please.”

The doctor nodded, his expression sympathetic but professional. “I wish I could say more, but OSHA regulations limit what I can share. That’s as much as I can say.”

I stepped forward, my voice steady but laced with determination. “Make sure I’m billed for everyone involved. I don’t want anyone worrying about hospital bills—just their recovery.”

Marcy, ever the rock, nodded in agreement after entering the hallway when the doctor came out. “Lead me to the right person, and I’ll take care of it,” she said, her eyes locking with mine, conveying that she knew exactly how heavy this burden was for me.

The doctor gave us a final nod before leaving the room, the door closing softly behind him. But the weight of what he said, the reality of it all, hung in the air like a heavy fog that wouldn’t lift.

My dad stood there, his shoulders slightly hunched under the pressure of everything that was happening. “We’ll get through this,” he said, his voice firm but laced with the weariness of someone who’s had to hold the world together too many times before.

Marcy turned to me, her expression all business but with that glint in her eye that told me she understood exactly what this moment meant. “We’ll handle the logistics, Derek. You focus on keeping everyone’s spirits up.”

I nodded, the weight on my chest growing heavier. “We’ve got to make sure they don’t have to worry about anything except getting better. That’s our job now.”

Destiny squeezed my hand, her presence grounding me in the chaos. “We’ll make sure those families know they’re not alone in this.”

I looked down at her, the love and determination in her eyes giving me the strength I needed to keep it together. “Yeah, we will. But we’re going to need all hands on deck.”

Hakeem, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a rare seriousness. “Whatever you need, D. You know I got you.”

Ant, still simmering with anger, nodded in agreement. “We’re going to make sure this town knows what real support looks like.”

My mom stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on my dad’s arm. “We’ll talk to all the families, organize different ways to help them out.”

My dad nodded, pride and sorrow in his eyes. “This town’s been through a lot, but we’ve always come together when it counts. We won’t let these families face this alone.”

As they spoke, a deep sense of gratitude washed over me. These weren’t just my family and friends—they were my foundation, the people who had been with me through every storm. And now, as we faced this new challenge, I knew we’d stand together, no matter what came our way.

The white walls of the hospital seemed to suddenly close in around us as the wailing reached our ears—a sound so raw, so full of pain, that it cut through the air like a knife. I exchanged a glance with Ant, the unspoken agreement between us driving our feet toward the source as my security followed us. We moved as one, our footsteps heavy with dread.

As we turned the corner, we found her—Little Derek’s mom—her arm in a sling, face streaked with tears and a bandage across her cheek. Her cries echoed off the walls, the kind of grief that doesn’t just settle in your bones but shatters them. A nurse was by her side, trying to offer comfort, but it was clear she was inconsolable.

“My baby! I just need to see my baby!” she screamed, her voice hoarse and trembling.

“Ma’am, we are doing everything we can. He’s in surgery right now,” the doctor said, his tone as calm and reassuring as he could muster, but it wasn’t enough.

Her pain was a living thing, thrashing inside her, and she was teetering on the edge of hysteria. She pushed away from the nurse, her good hand clenching and unclenching as though she didn’t know what to do with it, where to put all that anguish.

“Why won’t you let me see him? I need to see my son!” she nearly yelled, her voice thick with desperation.

Ant was the first to move, crossing the room with those long strides of his, and before she could lash out again, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She fought against him at first, her fists beating against his chest, but he just held on, his voice a low murmur, a steady stream of words I couldn’t quite hear.

Her resistance crumbled, her fists unclenching, and she collapsed against him, sobbing into his chest. He held her tight, rocking her gently, his large frame somehow making her look so small, so fragile.

I stepped forward, joining them, and placed a hand on her back, feeling her trembling under my touch. “We’re here for you,” I said softly, my voice cracking with the weight of the moment. “Whatever you need, we got you. We’re gonna be here for Derek, for you—whatever you need.”

Her sobs grew quieter, but the pain was still there, raw and unyielding. Ant continued to hold her, his presence a steady anchor in the storm, and I stayed close, my hand never leaving her back. This was more than just words—this was a promise, one I intended to keep.

The doctor took a step closer, his expression a mix of sympathy and professionalism. “Little Derek is in critical condition. He suffered severe trauma to his chest and head. We’re doing everything we can, but the next few hours are crucial.”

Her breath caught, and she clung to Ant like he was the only thing tethering her to the earth, her sobs muffled against his chest. Each one cut through me like a blade. I wanted to fix it, to make it right, but all I could do was stand there, feeling useless, praying she knew she wasn’t alone in this.

“Why would this happen to my baby? Why, God?” she cried, her voice breaking in Ant’s embrace.

A heavy ache settled in my chest, a guilt so deep it felt like it was choking me. This wasn’t just another tragedy—it was tied to me, to the event I put together. If it wasn’t for my damn toy drive, she wouldn’t have been at that park, her son wouldn’t be fighting for his life right now. The guilt clawed at me, whispering in my ear, wrapping around me like a noose tightening with every second.

“We’re not going anywhere,” I repeated, trying to keep my voice firmer now. “We’re right here, and we’re not leaving until we know he’s okay.”

She nodded against Ant’s chest, her tears still falling, but the sobs were starting to fade, like the fight was draining out of her. I caught Ant’s eye, and he gave me a small nod, his grip on her solid, unyielding, like he was the only thing holding her together.

“Tell me your name,” Ant said softly, his voice low and calming as he looked down at her.

“Angel,” she managed through the tears, her voice cracking with the weight of her pain.

“Alright, Angel,” Ant said, his tone steady, reassuring. “We’re here for you and Derek. All of us. You ain’t alone in this.”

But Angel shook her head, the despair clear in her eyes. “I don’t…I don’t have nobody. It’s just me and my baby,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a loneliness that cut deep.

“No, Angel,” Ant said, his voice firm but gentle. “Look around. Everybody you see right now, we got you, okay? You’re not alone.”

She hesitated, then slowly lifted her head, her eyes red and swollen as she looked around. My parents, Destiny, Eden, my whole team—they were all there, standing with us, faces etched with the same determination, the same quiet resolve. And something in Angel shifted in that moment, something deep, something that touched the part of her that had been lost in the darkness. It was like she could finally see that she wasn’t alone, that she didn’t have to carry this burden by herself.

Her gaze met mine, and the weight of the moment hit me hard, so hard that I felt a tear slip down my cheek before I could stop it. I wiped it away quickly, but the emotion lingered, heavy in the air.

“Okay,” Angel whimpered into Ant’s chest, her voice barely audible, but there was something there—a flicker of hope, a tiny spark of belief that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to face this nightmare alone.

This was our reality now—a shared pain, a shared fight. We were in this together, bound by the horror of what had happened, and we’d see it through, no matter what.

As the minutes ticked by, we stood there, a silent promise made between us, the weight of it heavy but something I was more than willing to bear. Because this wasn’t just about Little Derek or his mom—this was about all of us, about the ties that bind us, that make us family, even when the blood isn’t shared. And in this moment, that bond was all that mattered.

To Be Continued…