23. Derek’s Destiny

HAKEEM

I glanced at my phone, a quick smirk creeping up when I saw D’s text: shit was going smooth out in Cali with Destiny. Of course it was. Them two was like Bonnie and Clyde, crazy and meant for each other.

Man, I’ve known Truth for years, and I ain’t never seen him look at nobody like he looked at her. Dude used to be wild, always tight and ready to pop off, like he had a chip on his shoulder since birth. But now? Man was out here smiling, showing teeth and everything. Used to be, he’d spaz on a nigga just for breathing wrong, but now he was chillin’—even when he went off on Rich earlier, he let that shit slide. Old Truth? He woulda stomped Rich out and sent him packing. But Destiny got him on some different shit, on some grown-man-in-love type shit. Seeing that change in him got me feeling some kinda way, like maybe I wanted somebody to have me like that too. Real talk, I wanted that love shit, too.

But my history? I been knocking down groupies, strippers, and randoms since I was a youngin’ out here running with Truth. No love, no relationships. Just hitting and quitting, from the Bronx to L.A. to Paris and back. And now here I am, stuck in a dusty-ass town called Juniper I ain’t even know existed until I stumbled across Truth’s shit on SoundCloud, back when his song cover was just him with a bloody face looking like a horror flick. Now that dude is my boy, and I’m laid up at his girl crib—excuse me, his fiancée’s crib—lowkey wishing her assistant was posted up with me. And I don’t even do all that cuddling shit, but something about her got me wanting to do that with her.

I dropped onto the couch, kicked my feet up, enjoying the rare silence in this house. No Truth and Destiny going at it like they tryna fuck a hole through the wall, messing up my sleep and my TV time. Finally got the place to myself, so I figured I’d pour up some Henny and vibe out to The Disney Channel or something, just to wind down. But right when I got comfortable, knock knock—the front door banging like somebody had some real business.

“Man, who the fuck is that?” I grumbled, dragging myself off the couch, already annoyed that my peace was getting interrupted. I walked to the door, feeling the weight of the quiet I was just starting to enjoy, and peeped through the hole.

It was Eden. Little ass standing there like she had a reason to be. The fuck she doing here? I just got her home safe after she watched rehearsals, and now she’s at the door. I swung it open, and damn near lost my breath. Eden wasn’t even dressed up like usual—no fancy pearls, none of that prim and proper shit. Just a simple white V-neck tee hugging all the right places, and some shorts so tight if I was her man, I’d tell her to go back and change... or rip them off her right then and there and bend her over. She was holding a plate wrapped in foil, her nervous smile the kind that made you wanna pull her closer just to see if she’d lean in.

“Sup, Shorty, you good?” I asked, glancing around, my eyes scanning the street to make sure that busted-ass car Arnold and Johnathon been rolling in wasn’t creeping nearby.

“I’m okay, I just…” she paused, fiddling with the plate like it was a lifeline. “I know D and Des ain’t here, wanted to make sure you had dinner,” she said, handing it to me like she was offering more than just food.

I took the plate, the heat from her fingers lingering longer than it should’ve, and the weight of whatever this was settling between us like unspoken words. Eden bit her lip, a little nervous habit I’d seen her do a few times today. It was her tell, but I couldn’t figure out why she was playing this hand.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to keep it cool, like she wasn’t messing with my head just by being here.

“You want some company?” she asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of something more.

My eyes widened, surprised at the boldness. “Yeah…umm, yeah, come in,” I said, stepping back to let her slide inside.

I shut the door behind her, my eyes following the jiggle of her ass in them tight shorts as she walked over to the dining table. She sat down, smiling at me like she was daring me to figure her out. I brought my plate over and uncovered it, the smell hitting me like a memory of every good Sunday dinner I ever had.

“Ain’t nothing special, just some fried chicken, rice and beans, mac and cheese, collard greens and a little potato salad,” she said quick, watching me like she was waiting on my reaction as I took a seat across from her.

“You made all this?” I asked as I sat down, grabbing the fork that was sitting on the plate under the foil, diving right in.

“Yeah…I cook a little bit,” she said, downplaying it like she didn’t just serve up something straight outta grandma’s kitchen.

“A little bit? Nah, this is fire,” I said, shoveling another bite, the flavors hitting all the right spots.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice almost shy.

“You gon’ fuck around and make a nigga fall in love wit’ yo ass,” I blurted out, my mouth full of food before my brain caught up with my mouth.

I froze, the weight of what I’d just said hanging in the air between us like the thick scent of BBQ. Eden just stared at me, that little smile playing at the corners of her lips, and for a second, I couldn’t tell if she was about to laugh or if she felt the same damn thing I did.

“Well, before we do that, maybe we should get to know each other a little better,” she chuckled, a soft laugh that had a bit of an edge to it, making me feel a kind of nervous I wasn’t used to.

“What you mean by that?” I asked, keeping it straight, eyes locked on hers. I wasn’t in the mood for guessing games.

Eden took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling like she was trying to find the right words.

“Just… I don’t really know you, Hakeem. One minute, you show up outta nowhere in Juniper. Next, you’re dragging me out the strip club like you my daddy. And then you’re saying you’re here to save me, telling Arnold I’m your girl.” Her voice wavered, nerves sneaking in as she laid it all out.

She was staring at me hard, like she was trying to read my soul, waiting for me to drop something real instead of the bullshit I was about to feed her.

“When I said you was my girl, I meant, like… you know, my homegirl,” I lied smooth, knowing damn well I wasn’t talking like that when I checked Arnold. “Like, ‘this my girl Eden,’” I said, trying to play it off.

She looked at me, her face twisting up in a way that almost looked disappointed, like she was expecting something different.

“Oh, so you don’t like me?” she asked, eyes wide and soft, that doe-eyed look that made my chest tighten up.

Damn. Of course I liked her. I was feeling her so hard it had me ready to go to war without even knowing what I was fighting for. But this was Destiny’s little sister, and I couldn’t afford to fuck this up. This wasn’t one of my hit-and-run joints; this was different. I kept shoveling food into my mouth, trying to act like her words weren’t hitting me in all the wrong places.

“Hakeem, I asked you a question,” she said, voice firm, arms crossed over her chest like she wasn’t gonna let me slide this time.

“What? You like dudes who talk crazy to you, drag you out of strip clubs? Who yell and curse at you?” I shot back, trying to deflect, trying to make it make sense for both of us.

She didn’t flinch. “I like a man who protects me,” she said, her voice strong but soft, like she was speaking some truth she’d been holding in.

I shook my head, kept eating like her words didn’t mean nothing, but inside, I was wrestling with every damn feeling I had for this girl. As much as I wanted Eden to be down for me like I was already lowkey down for her, I knew this was a line I couldn’t cross. I was shocked she was even entertaining it, ‘cause the way she looked at me when I snatched her out that club, I was sure she couldn’t stand my ass. But here she was, trying to pick up on what I was putting down, and I didn’t know if I should be flattered or scared.

“Hakeem!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the air like a blade, sharp and demanding.

“What you want from me?” I asked, leaning back in my chair, trying to steady myself as I swallowed the last of my food.

“I wanna know if what I felt earlier between us was real or if I’m just making it up,” she pleaded, her voice breaking like she was fighting to hold herself together, every word heavy like she was dragging her heart out in the open.

Of course it was real, baby girl. Every damn second of it. Shit.

I leaned back, trying to bury the truth deep, playing it off like this wasn’t eating me alive. “Eden, what you talkin’ ‘bout? I’m just looking out for you ‘cause you’re Truth’s people. That’s all it is,” I said, my voice as smooth as I could make it, casual like this wasn’t twisting me up inside. “Don’t read too much into it, Ma.”

“Bullshit,” she fired back, her eyes cutting into me, calling me out like she could see every lie I was stacking between us.

I pushed up from the table, ran my fingers through my curls, and headed to the couch, needing some space to think, to put some distance between us before I said something I couldn’t take back. But before I could even catch my breath, she was right there, sitting next to me, close enough that her leg brushed against mine.

“Do you like me? Yes or no?” she asked, eyes locked on mine, refusing to let me dodge.

Yes, I want you so bad I saw your face, whispered your name when I was deep inside someone else. But I couldn’t tell her that.

“Ain’t shit between us, Eden,” I said out loud, my voice hard as stone, each word like a knife I knew would cut her deep. I tried to sound cold, to build that wall between us, even though every syllable tasted like regret.

She looked deflated, like I’d just snatched something fragile out of her hands and smashed it right in front of her. I felt the guilt crawling up my spine, making me wanna bash my head against the wall till the pain drowned everything else out.

“I felt something when we were in the office,” she whispered, like she was talking to herself more than me, trying to piece together the mess of emotions between us.

“You got caught up in the moment,” I said, the lie heavy on my tongue, trying to make her believe it even if I couldn’t. “I’m here for you, Eden. I’m gonna handle this Arnold and Johnathon shit, make sure you’re good. But that’s it. I’m here as your friend—if you can even call it that. Hell, we barely know each other. We just work for two people who are figuring their shit out. That’s all this is, Eden. It ain’t anything more. It is what it is.”

It was a lie that tasted like ash in my mouth, but I had to draw that line, keep things above board. I couldn’t afford to let her in—not like that. I could see the hurt slicing across her face, like I’d just confirmed every doubt she had about us. I hated myself for saying it, but it was easier to keep her at a distance than to admit how deep I’d already fallen.

She grabbed my chin, fingers digging in just enough to make me feel it, not rough but firm, turning my face until I was locked into her gaze. Her big brown eyes bored into mine, searching for something real, something I was too scared to admit was there.

“Lie to me again. Tell me you don’t feel anything for me,” she dared, her voice low and steady, dripping with that kind of defiance that cuts right through all the bullshit.

Be with me, Eden. The words sat heavy on my chest, pressing down like a weight I couldn’t shake, squeezing the air out of me.

I clenched my jaw, kept my mouth shut tight. I couldn’t even speak with her that close, her touch burning into my skin, her eyes pulling me under like I was caught in a rip current.

“See? You can’t,” she said, her voice carrying this sharp, knowing edge, like she could see right through the walls I kept throwing up.

“Eden—” I tried, but she wasn’t about to let me off that easy.

“What’s wrong, Hakeem? Why won’t you let yourself want me?” she pressed, her grip still firm, holding my face like she was trying to drag the truth out of me, her fingers digging into the stubborn parts of me that didn’t wanna give in.

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to just let it all spill out, to confess everything I’d been holding back. Fuck.

“I’m not gonna be here long, Eden. What’s the point in starting something when we both know it’s got an expiration date?” I said, the words sounding flimsy as hell, like a weak excuse to hide behind.

Her eyes were cutting into me, and it felt like I was staring straight into some kind of truth serum, stripping me bare. I hated myself for every excuse I threw at her, for every time I tried to dodge the way I felt.

“But you’re here now—” she started, her voice full of something hopeful, like she could still pull me in.

“I’m an ain’t shit nigga, Eden. I’m not the one for you,” I said, peeling her hand off my chin and putting a little distance between us. I couldn’t let her keep touching me, keep making me feel things I wasn’t supposed to.

“Why would you say that?” she asked, eyes wide, hurt, like she couldn’t believe I was saying this shit to her.

I ran a hand over my face, the weight of everything hitting me hard. “You’re what’s good in this world, Eden. You’re pure, untouched by all this grime. You know what I was doing before I saw you in that club? I was in the backroom fucking a stripper.”

I watched her face fall, and I could damn near feel her heart shatter right in front of me. It killed me, but she had to know who she was dealing with, who she was trying to save.

“A girl like you needs a nigga who got his shit together—a law degree, a 9-to-5 or some shit, someone who can take you to brunch on Sundays and introduce you to his moms. Not some dude running with a rap crew, where half the time nobody even knows what I do.” My words came out ragged, each one pulling at something in my chest.

I saw the pain flicker in her eyes, but she didn’t look away. It was like she was staring down my demons, daring me to keep making excuses. I couldn’t be what she needed, and she deserved to know that, even if saying it out loud cut me deeper than I was ready for.

“You keep telling me about what I need when you won’t even try to get to know me,” she said, her voice breaking, a mix of frustration and that soft whine that drove me crazy.

“Cause the more I find out, the more I’m gon’ fall for your ass!” I snapped, the words flying out before I could stop them, laced with all the frustration I’d been swallowing.

Fuck. Why the hell did I say that?

She blinked, stunned for a second, then shook her head, tears starting to spill, carving paths down her cheeks.

“I don’t want some lawyer, Hakeem,” she said, her voice shaky, breaking like glass about to shatter. “I want the man who’s gonna pull up on me, tell me to cover up, and drag me out that club like he don’t give a damn who’s watching. The one who’s ready to step to anybody trying to mess with me.” Her words were raw, desperate, as she climbed onto my lap, straddling me like she was staking a claim on something we both knew was already hers.

Her scent hit me like a sucker punch to the chest—sweet, warm, and familiar, like all the dreams I’d been running from rolled up into one moment. I closed my eyes, fighting the pull of her, but I was drowning in her touch, her heat, her everything. She buried her face in my neck, her tears wetting my skin, hot and real, each drop breaking down the walls I’d built around myself.

“That’s what I want,” she whispered, her breath warm against my ear, her words slipping through every crack in my defenses, hitting me where I was weakest, where I was most vulnerable. “I want you, Hakeem.”

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her in tight even though my mind was yelling at me to let go, to shove her back before she got a real look at just how messed up I was inside. But it was too late for that. I could feel her heart thumping against my chest, fast and wild, matching mine like we were two people standing on the ledge of some high-rise, looking down at the drop, knowing we were about to jump.

That’s what scared me—she was ready to dive headfirst, no hesitation, while I was still stuck second-guessing, afraid to fall, afraid of what hitting the ground would look like. She was all in, and I was still caught up in my own shit, too scared to let myself follow.

“I’m not good,” I confessed, the words tumbling out like broken glass, each one sharp and jagged, cutting me open as I said it.

Eden looked at me, still straddling my lap, her eyes digging into mine like she was trying to piece together a puzzle I’d kept locked away from everyone. She was searching for parts of me I didn’t even wanna see myself, parts I’d buried deep in the cracks of the Bronx and left to rot. There wasn’t no pretty way to package up the shit I’d been running from my whole life. I glanced away, staring past her, seeing a past I’d spent years trying to forget—the cold, lonely nights, the streets that didn’t love nobody, the family that dropped me like dead weight.

“Tell me about you, Hakeem,” she insisted, her voice soft but firm, wrapping my arms around her waist like she was trying to hold me together. “Let me decide who you are.”

Having her this close, feeling her warmth, her weight pressing into me, was better than anything I’d ever let myself dream about. But it was breaking me down, making my walls crumble brick by brick, and I hated it. Hated how she made me feel weak, exposed, but she wanted to know me? Aight then. She wanted the truth? She was about to get it, straight and uncut, no filter.

“Grew up in the Bronx. My moms dropped me off at my grandma’s like I was some package she didn’t have time to deliver. Pops? He was a ghost. Never even knew the man. My grandma took me in, but not ‘cause she wanted to. More like she ain’t have a choice, and she reminded me of it every damn day. I was just another mouth to feed, another problem she didn’t need.”

I could still feel Eden’s weight on me, but my mind was back on those crowded streets, back in that small, suffocating apartment that smelled like old grease and regret. “Ain’t nobody hugged me unless it was to drag my ass away from something I wasn’t supposed to touch. Ain’t nobody told me ‘I love you’ without it sounding like an obligation. So, I never learned how to give it or get it. Shit, only time I felt wanted was when D put me down with his crew…and I basically slid my way in and been earning my place since.”

I paused, swallowing back the memories, the ones that still stung like fresh cuts. “All I know is survival, Eden. I ain’t never been nobody’s first choice. Just the last resort. And that shit sticks with you, it makes you cold, makes you look at love like it’s something that happens to other people, like some foreign language you don’t speak.”

Eden’s tears were still sliding down her cheeks, but she didn’t move, didn’t flinch. She just held on tighter, like she could squeeze the hurt out of me. But the pain ran deep, way deeper than just a rough past—it was in my bones, in my blood.

“I don’t know how to be what you need, Shorty. I don’t know how to love nobody, ‘cause no one ever showed me how.”

She looked at me, eyes soft but determined, like she was trying to find a way through all the bullshit I’d been hiding behind.

“Maybe one day we’ll figure it out. I can show you,” she whispered, her voice laced with hope. “And how can you be so sure you can’t give me what I need if you don’t even know what it is I’m asking for?”

Then she leaned in, her lips brushing against my neck, kissing me soft and warm, and for a moment it was like the weight of everything I’d been carrying just faded into the background. All the noise, all the history, all the shit I’d been running from—it was like she muted it all. She was my kryptonite, breaking down my defenses with every touch, and I knew I had to push her off, had to get her out of this house before I did something I couldn’t take back. But I was stuck, trapped under her, holding her close, feeling her lips work their magic on me, weakening me in ways I couldn’t fight.

“I ain’t built for this,” I said, voice breaking as I used all the strength I had left to get her off me. “I don’t even know how to be good for you.”

Eden sat up, her hands cradling my face, and it damn near broke me how she was just looking at me—really looking—like she saw something worth saving in the middle of all my mess. I felt naked, raw, like I’d ripped my own chest open and let her see every ugly piece of me I usually kept locked up. I never told nobody this shit, never let anyone close enough to see behind the armor.

“You don’t see how good you are, and that’s the saddest part,” she said, her voice soft but sure, like she was speaking a truth I couldn’t even see for myself. She gave me this little smile, the kind that cuts through the darkest corners.

“I’m not—” I tried to argue, tried to keep that wall up, but she wasn’t having it.

“Derek trusts you with his life, and that man don’t trust nobody,” she said, her voice filled with fire. “He talks about how loyal you are all the time, how he can count on you when shit goes sideways. He put you in charge today because he knows in his absence, you got his back, his front, and every side. And Destiny? She’s letting you crash here, and you know she don’t let nobody up in her space. She sees something in you, Hakeem. They both do. You’re holding it down in their world because they know you got them. I’ve watched you since you’ve been here, how you move, how you look out for Derek like he’s your brother.”

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against my face, every word sinking in deeper than I wanted to admit. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re not good, or that you don’t know how to love. I see it every day in the way you protect Derek, in the way you handle things when he’s too caught up in his own shit to notice. You’re out here carrying weight that ain’t even yours because you care, and that’s real. That’s love. Whether you see it or not, you’re out here doing what most people wouldn’t even think about. And that’s more than good, Hakeem. That’s everything.”

I felt her words hitting me like body shots, every single one landing hard. She wasn’t just saying it—she believed it. And in that moment, it was like she was seeing a version of me I didn’t even know existed, a man I didn’t know I could be. How was she seeing me like this?

“I wanna kiss you so bad,” I heard myself confess, my voice rough, my chest tight like I was choking on the truth I’d been holding back. I stared at her, taking in every curve of her lips, the way her eyes sparkled even in the dim light. She smiled at me, that slow, sweet smile that had me twisted up inside. “But I’m not even worthy of that. I feel like I gotta wash my face a thousand times before I can put my lips on something so—”

Before I could finish, she leaned in and kissed me. Deep.

All the words died in my throat as her mouth met mine, soft but hungry, like she was pouring every bit of understanding, every bit of fire and forgiveness, right into me. Her lips moved against mine, warm and urgent, and for a moment, I forgot all the reasons I’d been keeping her at arm’s length. I forgot the dirt I was covered in, the shame that kept me up at night. It was just us, tangled in that kiss, like the world had shrunk down to this one perfect, reckless moment.

I’d been thinking about this, dreaming about it in the quiet hours when I was alone, imagining what her lips would taste like, how she’d feel pressed up against me. But I couldn’t—couldn’t let myself have this, have her. I pulled back, breaking the kiss that had been burning me up inside, and I could see the anger flash in her eyes, the frustration and hurt that cut me deeper than any blade.

“Eden, for real,” I said, my voice wavering, trying to keep it steady even though my heart was beating outta my chest. “I got you, I swear. But this right here? It can’t go down like that.”

Her face twisted, eyes blazing with hurt and fire. “You’re rejecting me,” she said, her voice sharp like broken glass, like she was throwing it at me hoping it would cut.

“Nah, it ain’t about that,” I said, feeling the weight in my chest like a ton of bricks, crushing me from the inside out. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“From what?” she shot back, her voice cracking like thunder, tears brimming in those big brown eyes.

“From me,” I said, each word tasting like ash in my mouth. “From all the bullshit I bring with me.” I meant every word, but damn, saying it out loud felt like ripping out a piece of my own soul. I was just trying to keep her from the mess I’d been drowning in my whole life, even if it meant breaking both of us in the process.

She looked at me, eyes glossy and hurt. Heartbreak and disappointment was all over her face, cutting me deeper than any words she could’ve thrown my way.

“I, uh…” I stammered, pushing up from the couch, my head spinning and my body betraying me, making my dick harder just from the nearness of her. But my hands moved on their own, reaching for my wallet in my back pocket, trying to do something, anything to fix what I’d just messed up. I flipped it open; a couple hundred in crumpled bills stared back at me.

“I know you said you needed some extra cash,” I mumbled, voice low and awkward. “I ain’t got much, but I got you.” I pulled out every bill I had, stacking them in my palm, and pushed them into her hand, trying to make up for the pain I saw in her eyes.

Eden moved slow, her whole body tense like she was holding herself together by a thread. She looked at the money, her expression twisting into something I couldn’t read, and then she snapped. She flung the bills back in my face, each one smacking me harder than a slap could’ve as she stood up.

“Eden, what the fuck?” I yelled.

“I don’t want your money, Hakeem. I want you to see me! You said you saw me!” she shouted, her voice cracking like she was tired of fighting the same battle. “You said you were here to save me!”

“That’s exactly why I can’t fuck with you! Don’t you get it?” I snapped, my frustration boiling over. I tapped the side of her head lightly, like I was trying to knock some sense into her. “Every time I look at you, I see everything I never had, everything I ain’t never gonna deserve. I’m terrified, Eden. Scared as hell of letting you down, of fucking this up the way I’ve fucked up every damn thing in my life.”

She was breathing heavy, chest heaving like she was about to blow up right there in front of me. Tears welled up, hanging on the edge of her lashes, but she wasn’t about to fold. How the hell did I end up in a damn lover’s quarrel with a girl who wasn’t even mine? Eden had me fucked up, caught up in her like she’d wrapped me around her finger without even trying.

“You won’t even give us a chance,” she said, her voice trembling, raw and jagged, like every word was scraping up her throat. She snatched her keys off the table, her hand shaking like she was fighting to keep from falling apart right there in front of me.

“We ain’t Derek and Destiny,” I shot back, my tone sharp, laced with bitterness as balled up my fists to help me force the words out. “Everybody don’t get a happy ending.” It was the final nail, the last shove to push her away, but it tasted like poison coming out my mouth.

She stopped, staring at me, eyes full of pain and fury, her whole body trembling like she was one breath away from breaking down or blowing up. But all I did was stand there, stiff and stupid, letting her slip through my fingers. I knew I’d just wrecked whatever shot we had, too deep in my own bullshit to admit how much I wanted her to stay.

She turned, yanked the door open, and slammed it shut behind her. The sound echoed through the crib like a gunshot in the dark—a cold, final note in a song I never wanted to end. The silence that followed was heavy, thick like smoke, wrapping around me like chains, and all I could feel was the emptiness she left behind, choking me out in the very space I’d fought so hard to keep her out of.

“I’ll protect you from everybody, Eden... even from me,” I mumbled, voice low, the words falling flat in the empty room like they didn’t mean shit to anyone but me. It was a promise she’d never hear, whispered to the shut door that now stood between us like a brick wall, cold and unmovable.

I just stood there, feeling like I’d taken a hit to the chest, knowing I’d just pushed away the one person who made me feel like more than the mess I am. My heart was heavy, caught between guilt and relief, like I’d ripped my own soul out just to keep her safe from me. Alone again, drowning in the silence she left behind, I couldn’t tell if I’d done what I had to do or just fucked up something that could’ve been real. All I knew was I was back to the same old loneliness, and it felt like I’d never see light again.