So I haven't exactly been in the mood to write given all that has been going on lately. This was actually a pre-written chapter from about a month ago and given all that has transpired I thought it would be fitting to publish it now.
I haven't seen a book on here about interracial relationships really tackle the complexities of being within one. As a person who has been in an interracial relationship and as a Black woman that did quite sit right with me. Our blackness is our inescapable trait, so to have these books where we don't fully acknowledge our experiences upset me.
TRIGGER WARNING:
Chapter contains;
•Police Brutality
•Violence Against Women
•Sexual Assault
If you don't think you can handle it please do not read. It was painful writing this, I can only imagine what reading it is going to be like. But I wanted to acknowledge that pain, acknowledge our plight.
BLACK LIVES MATTER.
BLACK WOMEN MATTER.
We deserve to be protected💕
Please note; any disrespectful comments will be deleted.
~Lee
Lennox POV
"So what's this meeting for exactly?" I asked looking at Beckham as he drove down the beautiful streets of LA.
We have been in a pretty good place recently. No, seriously. We haven't been fighting as much. We've even started going out on dates, aside from the ones we're contractual obligated to. Beckham said since all of this is ending in an eventual marriage the least he could do is make a real effort to develop a meaningful relationship with his future bride. We're far from being together. However, it seems like we're maybe, possibly developing a friendship. It's been a nice change of pace.
This trip is strictly business though. It's not a vacation. We touched down in Los Angeles 24 hours ago and I still haven't even slept. It's been all business meetings, both in boardrooms and at clubs, which isn't exactly unprecedented when considering his family business is alcohol. Non-stop conversation about dividends and profit margins. Here we are on our way to yet another meeting. Honestly, I don't feel my presence is necessary at these, I've never even taken a business class. It's like Beyoncé said I guess, he takes me just compliment the deal.
"There's this up and coming wine company, it looks promising... I want to buy them out." He explained, I'm sure there's a bit more to it than that but Beckham tends to keep me in the dark about a lot of his business dealings.
I understand why, insider trading is definitely a thing. Also half the time I find what he's saying boring as hell anyways. We both agree the less I know the better.
I nodded my head "Well-" I paused noticing the flashing lights and sirens in the rearview mirror. "Beckham, we're getting pulled over. Are you speeding?"
"No I'm not speeding." He rolled his eyes, pulling over to the side of the road. "Calm down."
I'm anything but calm. I could feel my palms start to get clammy. If we were still in Seattle I wouldn't be this stressed. I know the lay of the land there. Hell, I know the cops there. One of the few things my mother taught me as a child was that familiarizing yourself with the police could be the difference between life and death.
I took a deep breath, you're with the poster child of white privilege. Beckham was probably right when he said everything would be fine. Everything is fine when he gets pulled over by the cops, I'm just glad I wasn't the one driving.
Beckham rolled down the window, as the officer approached. "Evening, officer." He smiled, "What'd you stop us for?"
"You made an incomplete stop back at that intersection, some bullshit like that. This is a sweet ride! Had to get a closer look at this baby." He exclaimed taking a step back to look at Beckham's Audi R8.
I relaxed in my seat. Pulling someone over to talk about a car is complete bullshit. Now I understand Beckham's lack of apprehension if these are the interactions with police that he's accustomed to. There's no need for him to be concerned.
"2019 Audi R8, thinking about upgrading her to the newer model." He responded, "She drives like a dream though"
At this point I zoned out of the conversation. Until there was a knock of the passenger side window, I looked up to see Officer Buddy-Cop's partner staring down at me. This isn't even my vehicle, what the hell could he want with me?
"Beckham" I whispered, tapping his thigh trying to subtly gesture toward the cop that was standing outside my window.
Beckham rolled down the window for me, "Hey, was just taking to your partner here... Is there something I can help you with?" He asked, raising his eyebrow.
The cop shook his head, "Not you. This one."
"Me?" I croaked out. My heart dropped to my stomach. "I don't understand.."
"I'm sure you do. There's only so many things a girl like you could be doing with a guy like him." He nodded his head toward Beckham, looking me up and down.
Disgust was written all over his face. He thinks I'm a prostitute, I'm fully clothed, barely showing any skin and that's the conclusion he came too. Because a girl like me is sitting in a car with a guy like Beckham, I just have to be a prostitute. I wasn't even surprised, mostly pissed. I knew better than to express my anger though. Close your eyes and count to ten Lennox, it should all be over soon.
"Hey, watch how you talk to my girlfriend." Beckham snapped.
"Beckham, he was simply mistaken. It's fine. No big deal." I rubbed his arm trying to calm him down, while doing my best to keep my voice steady so he didn't realize how terrified I was.
"No I don't think I was mistaken." The Officer who's name tag read Johnson, interjected. "I think I pegged you for exactly what you are." He stared straight into my eyes. His eyes were dark and cold, like he was soulless. I could feel bile rising in the back of my throat.
"Excuse me?!" Beckham began unbuckling his seat belt. Causing panic to wash over me.
"Now everyone should just take a minute and calm down." The friendly neighborhood cop tried to mediate.
"Get our of the car." Johnson demanded.
At that moment it felt like my soul left my body, like space and time ceased to exist. It felt like my heart stopped beating. Beckham finally realized what was happening and all the color drained from his face. He quickly regained his composure his concern replaced by rage.
"She's not getting out the car." Beckham stated, it didn't take a genius to figure out he was sizing the officer up. It's admirable but it's also fucking stupid.
Officer Johnson's hand shifted back towards his gun, "Sweetheart, I'm not gonna ask you again."
Tears welled up in my eyes as I unbuckled my seat belt, my hands shaking uncontrollably.
"No. Lennox you're not getting out the fucking car!" Beckham screamed.
I ignored him. Beckham could always bail me out of jail if this racist ass cop decides to arrest me, he could probably even get those bullshit, trumped-up charges thrown out of court. The alternative would be planning my funeral because I was gunned down in his car for resisting a direct order from an officer.
I stepped out of the car trying my best to hold in my tears. Rage was coursing through my veins, my whole body felt like it was on fire. Like I could explode at any second.
The second my feet hit the concrete, Officer Johnson shoved me against the car. I screamed prompting the people on the sidewalk and even those driving by in their cars to stop what they were doing. A crowd began to form cell phones being whipped out left and right.
It took no time for Beckham to jump out of the car after me. "Get your hands off of her." He didn't scream or yell, he just stood there appearing completely calm and collected.
He's about to lose his fucking mind.
Beckham started towards Officer Johnson as the other cop ran back to his squad car to call in what was happening.
"Take another step and see if I don't blow this bitch's brains out." Johnson grabbed my hair causing me to scream again, it felt like he was trying to rip it out of my scalp.
Beckham stop dead in his tracks, I could hear the people on the street and even Johnson's partner screaming at him to let me go. He didn't. They never do. I tried not to cry as I thought about Jayce and what would happen to her if I didn't make it off of this god-forsaken street corner.
Johnson shook his head at Beckham, "Look at you getting all worked up over some whore." I felt his hand on my crotch, groping me through my jeans and that's when I lost it.
If I'm going to die I should at least do so with my dignity.
I lifted my leg, digging the pointy end of stiletto into his balls. "You fucking bitch!" He slammed the butt of his gun into my face.
I let out an earth shattering scream falling on to the concrete. Before I even knew what was happening, Beckham was on the ground on top of Johnson. The other cop ran over trying to pull Beckham off of his partner as the crowd that has gathered cheered him on.
An older black gentleman from the crowd of people scooped me up of the ground, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket he pressed the fabric to my head. "You're gonna be okay, babygirl. Hang in there! You're gonna be okay." He tried to assure me.
I didn't know how badly I was hurt but I knew it was bad, I could barely even see because blood kept falling into my eyes. The last thing I remember is hearing the sound of a gunshot.
When I came to I found myself in the hospital. The incessant beeping of the Holter monitor was getting on my nerves. My head didn't hurt but there was also no telling what sort of drug cocktail I had been put on. My hazy eyes darted around the hospital room that was mostly empty except for Brandt. He was sitting in a chair next to my bed, with his tear-stained face laying in my lap. He had fallen asleep.
I felt a pain in my chest as I took in his appearance, poor baby. He looked as though he had been crying for hours. The feeling in my chest only tightened when I realized Beckham wasn't here. I can't believe he's not here. I stroked Brandt's soft brown hair gently trying to hold in my tears. This is by far the worst thing he's ever done to me.
The sound of something crashing on to the floor jostled me out my thoughts. I looked up to see Gia, standing in the middle of spilled coffees and breakfast. "You're awake?! You're awake!" She threw her hands over her mouth in disbelief as she made her way towards.
"We-we... Lennox you had a seizure.. I was so fucking scared." She rambled obviously overwhelmed by everything that happened.
I need her to get her thoughts together though. I most likely had a mild TBI, seizures have been known to occur with that injury. It's definitely not anything more serious because I'm not suffering from amnesia, I possess all of mental faculties obviously and I'm sure all of my motor skills as well. In layman's terms all of my injuries were minor and non-life threatening, Thank God.
I get why Gia was so concerned as a friend, but as a future doctor she's fully aware that there's nothing wrong with me. She needs to calm down.
"Gia, Gia." I waved my hand in front of her face, slightly startled by the sound of my own voice. It was so dry and raspy. How long was I out for? "Gia, where is Jayce-Lynn?!"
I don't really care about anything else at the moment. I need to know that she's okay. More importantly, I need to know that she's not here. The last thing she needs to see is me laying in a hospital bed half-alive.. That child has already endured more than her fair share of trauma.
"Jayce is still in Seattle with Ms. April. Umm, Xiomara? Your boyfriend's Mom, she called me, the hospital told her I was your emergency contact." She explained.
Ms. April is actually my emergency contact, but Gia is second on the list. Since Ms. April has Jayce-Lynn still it made sense why they'd call Gia instead.
"Umm, have you called in your nurse? We should probably call your nurse." Gia got ready to press the button on the wall, but I stopped her.
"You can do it later. It's not like I'm going anywhere." I readjusted the pillow behind my head. "You said Xiomara called you, did she tell you anything about Beckham? Where he is?"
"Oh my God. I didn't tell them I need to tell. Everyone is in the waiting room still cause only 2 people can be in your room at a time. We take shifts." I stared at my friend blankly as she once again started to unravel. She's in desperate need of a Xanax.
This is precisely why doctors aren't allowed to treat their own family and friends as patients. Even the most talent and experienced medical professionals are just human beings at the end of the day. They're emotional, fragile, creatures.
"Let me go get them and then I'll be right back." Before I could stop her she left.
I let out a long sigh, reaching up to touch the bandaging that was wrapped around my forehead. I didn't want her to go get them. I'm glad they're here, I am, I'm so relieved. But there's going to be a million questions about what happened. There's going to be police interviews, there's going to be an investigation. I'm not ready to confront what's happened just yet. I'm not ready to relive that trauma, nor am I ready to hear about the videos that have undoubtedly begun to trend on social media. I didn't have any intentions of my life becoming a headline, a hashtag, or a face of a movement. I don't think anyone this happens to wants that for themselves, it's just what happens. That's the essence of living while Black in America.