11. Anastazia

ONE WEEK LATER…

Adds “You” by Lucy Pearl to the playlist…

I decided to actually take Asif’s advice and use the money he gave me to take care of myself. I got my nails done, pedicure and a manicure, I got damn near a full body wax, some new makeup and skincare, then a few new pairs of clothes, and shoes.

He gave me so much money that I was able to buy some things for Sophie and then save the rest. I did splurge on one of those foldable treadmills so I could squeeze in small workouts occasionally.

So now as I stood in my full-length mirror wearing a thigh length dress that was sort of slinky around my breasts, I smiled. I hadn’t felt pretty and dressed up in a long time, and I had Asif to thank for that. I didn’t get my hair done because I hadn’t found someone I liked, and Lisara’s shop was always too busy, so I styled my curly hair with some tied up and some down.

I heard the doorbell go off just after I put on my jewelry, so I spritzed on my Tom Ford perfume, grabbed my tiny purse, and then strutted out to the living room, rocking my favorite Tom Ford padlock heels.

“Me first!” Sophie rushed into the living room just as I opened the door for Asif.

Upon seeing her, his eyes lit up as he stepped inside, chocolate sweater on his upper half and jeans on the lower. His chains swung a bit as he moved around the door, shutting it, while his freshly twisted hair flowed down his strong back.

“What’s up, pretty girl?” He squatted down to Sophie’s level as my mama entered the living room.

She lifted her brows to me to say Asif was handsome as if she hadn’t seen him before. It wasn’t a lot but she knew what he looked like.

“A giant!” Sophie screeched, making us all laugh.

“I’ll take it.” Asif smirked. “Can I get yo’ permission to take ya mama out? I’ll take good care of her and bring her back at a respectable hour.”

“Okay.” Sophie nodded animatedly.

“Thank you. Can I have a hug? Or is it too… soon.” Before he could finish, Sophie tossed her small arms around his neck and Asif’s face was beaming brighter than Candy Cane Lane during Christmas. “That was a good one, thank you.” He stood up to his full height, dwarfing everyone.

“Nice to see you again, Mrs. Chase.” He reached to embrace my mother, and I could tell by the way the corners of her mouth were touching her eyes that she liked him.

“You too, young man. Keep her as long as you need to.”

“Mama!” I exclaimed as she and Asif laughed, Sophie soon joining though she didn’t know what the joke was.

Asif led me out, making sure to tell my mother to put all the locks on just like my father used to. It was a small gesture but I liked that.

“You look beautiful, love.” Asif let me know as he opened the door to his Range Rover for me. He towered over my frame, even with these high heels on as he regarded me momentarily, hands on my hips. “You feel as beautiful as you look?”

“I do.” I nodded as he leaned in to peck me gently on my glossed lips.

“Good.” He moved back some so I could get into the car with his help.

“Thank you,” I said and before he shut the door, he leaned in to kiss me again.

Like always, one was never enough so after two more pecks, he shut the door. Climbing in, he turned on the heat for me since I didn’t have a jacket, nothing matched, and then he played some music. When Tamia’s song came on, I looked at him with a knowing smile.

“What?” He played dumb. “Never heard this song?”

“Nigga.” I chuckled. “This is already starting off good.”

“Good. And yes I got Yolani shit on here but I want you in a lovey mood before we get to her hating ass.”

I guffawed at that, just as his hand gravitated into my lap, gripping mine.

“You made me a playlist?” I questioned.

“I did. More like a joined playlist. I started it but we can add to it over the years with songs we fuck with individually or together. Something that’s ours.”

I nodded, watching him as he spoke, one hand holding mine while the other whipped this big ass truck.

“I love that,” I admitted, realizing that I was liking Asif even more than I planned to in this moment.

“What else should we add?”

“Hmm,” I thought, shaking my head internally at how much I was smiling still just from being in this bubble with him. “How about ‘You’ by Lucy Pearl. It was playing in the Compton Boys lounge that night I went and now when I play it, I think of that night.”

Half smiling with his fine ass, he nodded with a lick of his full lips. “Aight, I’ll put that one in the rotation. You gotta put me on to some more love songs and shit. I ain’t trying to just be adding hood shit to our list.”

Giggling, I asked, “You don’t listen to R it was passionate but had a tinge of gangsta to it. We stayed like that for a minute until he drove me home.

The next morning…

Walking into the living room carrying Sophie, I heard a familiar voice coming from the TV as I inhaled the scent of my mama’s homemade biscuits.

As the picture came into view, I recognized Jacinta looking like a grieving widow as she sat with a balled tissue pressed to the corners of her eyes.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without him if he doesn’t make it,” she cried, sitting across from well-known interviewer Marissa Roach.

“We are all praying for him, Jacinta,” Marissa replied. “Did you ever get the impression that Anastazia was lying when she would divulge details about Cedric?”

“Every time.” She sniffled with her lying ass. “Her stories never really matched up. She would show me a bruise and tell me he shoved her into the dresser but then when I would bring it up again, the story would then be he pushed her into a wall.” She scoffed.

“That lying bitch,” I groaned.

“Lie bitch!” Sophie repeated, causing me to shake my head at her. She dropped hers in sadness as I kissed her round cheek.

“Let me turn this off, Anastazia. You don’t need to be watching this.” My mother walked in carrying a plate of food, setting it on the coffee table and grabbing the remote.

“No not yet,” I told her, sitting down just as I heard someone fumbling with the front door. I knew it was Analicia because we were the only two outside of my mama who had keys.

Stepping in, she paused, so I knew she was watching the interview.

“I can’t believe her dumb ass is going out like this for a nigga like Cedric.” Analicia came and sat down just as my mother returned with a plate for her.

“Yeah,” I started to cut into my pancakes, “a lot of us women’s downfall is ignoring red flags and signs in favor of holding on.”

“That’s true.” Analicia looked over at me, and we exchanged eye contact that said a lot. We both were no strangers to that shit. “I mean damn though, she’s seen the pictures like everyone else.”

“She even looks like a damn fool.” My mama reentered the living room with a tiny plate for Sophie who was now kneeling at the coffee table, happily ready. She then fixed her own plate.

“I don’t think she believes the shit she is saying. Jacinta may not be bright but most women are smart enough to recognize a gut feeling. She knows I was telling the truth, she just doesn’t care and doesn’t think he will be that way with her.”

I’d had several talks with Jacinta, and she’d divulged a lot to me on how her religious parents were constantly giving her shit for not being married to the point where she moved to LA from Minneapolis. She was so hung up on nabbing a man that when I mentioned Asif and his fine brood of brothers, she’d commented for weeks after about me or Analicia hooking her up. It was honestly sad, but I took it like a joke so she wouldn’t look so pathetic. Now I wondered if she’d already been messing with Cedric at the time yet still looking.

When she told me she was pregnant, I wanted to ask by whom, but I knew most women found such a question offensive so I didn’t.

Because of that, right now as I looked at the TV watching her fake cry and lie on me, I couldn’t be upset. Jacinta was desperate and her desperation caused her to become involved with a man who was going to ultimately be her downfall, just like he was mine. Cedric was a different type of crazy, the type of nigga we saw on an episode of Fatal Attraction .

I may have made it out with my life, so far, but my life wasn’t the life it used to be. My nursing license was gone for the moment, all my hard work meaning nothing. I didn’t have custody of my own daughter, and I couldn’t go down the damn street without people gawking at me or a reporter trying to pretend they weren’t following and filming me at the grocery store. The only thing I could hope for Jacinta was that she woke up sooner than later. While I didn’t care for her, I wouldn’t wish the type of man Cedric was on any woman, because once he had you in his grasp, he never lets go.

My mama had stepped out with Lisara to try this new steakhouse they’d been excited to get to, so it was just Sophie and me at home. We’d been playing for a while, mainly in her tiny kitchen she’d asked for, and now we were coloring.

My phone buzzed as I helped her fill in a unicorn with a crayon, and I saw it was Asif.

“Hi.” I simpered, despite me not even hearing his voice yet.

“What’s good, love?” His raspy voice poured through the phone like silk.

“Just coloring with baby girl. You?”

“Thinking about yo’ ass but what’s new? Y’all want some company?”

“If you’d like to spend your Saturday night with me and a toddler then sure.”

“I would.”

“Okay, then come on.”

“You need anything before I get there?” he inquired, and the basic ass question made me nibble on my lip.

Asif was the type of nigga you let bend you up like a pretzel in the bedroom because he deserved to have you in any way he wanted. When I would listen to my sisters-in-law go in detail about all the shit they allowed their husbands to do, Analicia included, I’d concluded that that would never be me. Sex was a chore, and if a nigga thought I was gonna be swinging from the plant hooks just to make him bust, he was crazier than Cedric.

Now though, my tune was changing. Asif turned me on mentally and physically, not to mention he boosted my confidence, and that was a dangerous cocktail because I knew once I allowed him sex, I would be ready and willing to take my orders like a good soldier.

“Nope, I’m fine. Don’t bring them Sour Punch candy straws in here though because she’s gonna want some and I need her in bed in about an hour.”

He cracked up.

“How you know I got them on me?” I could hear the amusement in his deep voice as he drove.

“When don’t you?”

We chuckled in unison before he said, “Aight. Candy straws gotta stay in the car and shit.”

“Good. See you in a little bit.”

I got back to coloring with Sophie before she told me she was ready for her bath, darting off to grab her bath toys before I even made it to my feet.

By the time she was out, teeth brushed, and in her new Savage Fenty pajama set that matched one I’d had as well, Asif was at the door.

“Me first!” Sophie screeched, rushing to the door as I thanked God for the grip socks she wore. “Hi!”

“What’s good?” Asif beamed like he always did upon seeing Sophie as she stepped back to allow him in. He laughed when she tossed her arm out as if to show off the living room. “Yo. She smart as hell.”

“I know.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how.”

“Her mama.” He leaned over to kiss me before handing me some flowers.

I blushed unintentionally before looking up into his pretty eyes to thank him non-verbally.

“Let me put these in water.” I went to fetch the vase from the kitchen.

“I see you got the coloring book out. Can I color too?” Asif asked.

“No, is for me and Mommy,” her little mean ass stated, causing me to chuckle as I ear hustled from the kitchen.

“I feel you. I don’t know if you heard, but I color better than ya mama.” I heard some rustling and figured it was the bag he’d brought from the store. “Bet you ain’t never seen this, huh?”

Whatever he held up made Sophie gasp, so I leaned back to peer into the living room to see it was a box of Crayons, the sixty-four count.

“Mine!” Sophie reached and he gave it to her.

“Can I color now?” he quizzed.

“Yes. Okay.”

“I knew you was cool.” He then lowered his voice to say, “You know if you don’t like me ya mama won’t like me. So you can’t be doing a nigga like that when he come through.”

I couldn’t hold in my laughter as I made my way back into the living room with them.

“Yes. Okay!”

I sat down to join them since it was so many more colors available now, and Asif pulled me closer to him, kissing the side of my face. We colored and then made some freezer cookies before Sophie was knocked out.

Once she was safely in bed, we went back into the living room, relaxing on the couch under the blanket. The couch was a nice size, but we were still cuddled up, me laying on his broad chest the way I loved to do as his fingers brushed up and down my back.

“You want a lot of kids?” I questioned.

“Where that come from?” He mocked me. “Every body got an opinion on what a lot is but I at least want one of each sex. Three is my preference, though.”

“Probably two boys and one girl.”

“Don’t matter. Sophie is the girl, so you can give me another girl then a boy or two boys.”

I lifted some to look up at him before our lips met.

“A lot of times I wish I hadn’t stayed with Cedric so long. It was mostly out of fear, but I wish I’d gotten to the point I got to as of recently, sooner.” I sighed as Asif listened. “I just kept getting scared that if I left he would kill me and Sophie. But maybe I should’ve at least tried again and tested it instead of this.”

“Don’t feel bad, love, muthafuckas take forever to leave all the time. You doing it now was perfect timing for us though.”

“Yeah.” I hugged his body tighter. “You must’ve taken forever to leave someone.” I tilted my head back to watch his handsome face, locs splayed over the couch pillow as he tucked his full lips in before running his hand down his beard. His chains rested on the chest of his white T-shirt and every time he moved, his cologne danced up my nose.

“Nah. No offense but I ain’t got that shit in me. I understand hard times, and that’s some shit I’m willing to thug it out for. But staying with a muthafucka that don’t mean me any good ain’t in my blood. I understand it though, seeing my father and my brother do it. It’s easy on the outside looking in, but a lot of times shit be deeper than that, so I don’t judge.”

I nodded. “I know all about your brother and Nixi but who should your dad have left?”

“My mama.” He stroked his beard again, and I surmised it was a telltale sign that he was thinking deeply. I found it sexy regardless.

“Really? Most kids want their parents together.”

“I know, and I can’t really speak on the details ’cause a nigga was so fucking young but I distinctly remember my pops being unhappy. That shit stuck out to me, even as a fucking kid. Seemed like he only smiled or laughed when he was with me. Never with her though, at least not in front of me. They argued all the fucking time.

Scratching his beard, he said, “Shit was scary to me seeing my pops like that. I had a classmate whose father murked himself, and I was young, scared as shit my dad would do the same thing ’cause he was never fucking happy.” Smiling, he added, “I used to do shit to try to make him laugh and smile, then I’d ask if he was good and he’d tell me yeah. One day the nigga asked me why I always wanted to know if he was good, and I made some shit up, not wanting him to know my angle.”

“That seems so stressful for a child.”

“It was.” He laughed shortly, glancing down at me momentarily. “Now as a grown man, I know my father inside out, and he would never take his own life over some shit like that.” Sighing, he said, “When he met Lisara, it was even more obvious how unhappy the nigga was because he would legit change colors when he saw her.”

“Change colors?” I laughed and Asif followed suit.

“Nigga would be blushing lowkey. He hate when I say it, but,” he shrugged, “I knew I had to make sure she stayed around. That’s all I wanted was for her and my pops to stay in each other’s lives. I didn’t give a fuck what it cost. She made me happy and him? Yeah, she couldn’t go nowhere.”

“That’s sweet, baby.”

“Anyway,” he huffed, “I just think my father should’ve cut ties with my mama sooner than he did but either way, he ended up winning with Lisara. Had that shit been me, she would’ve been gon’ first fuck up.”

We chuckled heartily.

“What does this chain mean? MFM?”

“Corporation to the government but truly just a front. I employ a lot of niggas up under me and I wanna make sure they don’t get into some shit when it comes to how or where they getting bread from. So Money Fiends Mob is a business that makes sure everybody’s ducks are in a row and shit. They want proof a nigga making legit money, they got it. I don’t just wanna protect myself, but the niggas who work for me.

“Also, niggas feel more like they a part of something when it got a name to it. The dedication takes itself to another height. I don’t know why but that’s human nature. We need names and titles to make shit feel legit. Them niggas see the brand and it make ’em wanna go harder.”

As he talked, I couldn’t help but to admire how astute and intelligent he was. He put thought into everything and was the definition of wise beyond ones years.

I’d always dated men who were older than me, never even my same age, but none of them possessed the demeanor or even the mindset Asif had even well into their thirties. I’d never met a man I felt like could teach me things, and I assumed it was because I was smart in my own right, having gone through years of schooling, but I realized it was because of the type of men I’d dealt with.

I felt stupid, for lack of a better word, in the same room with Asif St. Thomas, making me wonder even more now what he and Milan even conversed about.

“You are so easy to talk to.” I turned onto my stomach, pressing my chin into his chest. “Are you really twenty-six or thirty-six?”

“Twenty-six as far as a nigga knows.” He smirked. “I don’t know why you think you so much older than me.”

“Four years is a nice amount.”

“You right ’cause my mama had me at two, so you even older than her.”

“Shut the hell up.” I laughed.

“If I got siblings older than you, which I do, it don’t count,” he stated, which was true. Khari, Lequay, and Bashar were all older than me. I was only a year older than Cemone. “Shit, we probably learned to read around the same time.”

“Boy, please!” I shrieked, swatting him and trying to not laugh yet failing as he cracked up. “I was definitely reading in pre-school while your ass was a newborn, okay? My daddy made sure of it!”

“I don’t know, I’m not falling for it. I can tell you didn’t start reading ’til you was ’bout eight.”

“Nah, that’s them bitches you used to fucking, that can’t spell without autocorrect.”

He chuckled, smoothing the errant strands of my curly bun back.

“You was a fucking daddy’s girl, huh?”

“I was. We were close.” Grinning, I continued, “I’ve never wanted a brother and was elated when I learned I was getting a baby sister, but during that horrible time with my ex I wished I did have one.”

“You had Bashar.”

“No, not proper for me to go to him for shit like that. Goes against sister etiquette.” I half smiled but Asif remained serious. “And I’d never forgive myself if something happened to Bashar because of me. My sister wouldn’t either. She’s obsessed with that man.” I smirked but Asif held his serious expression.

“So you wouldn’t want Leeci to ask yo’ nigga for help in the same situation?”

“Of course I would. She better ask for help. But she’s the little sister, I’m older, I can’t do that. I’m supposed to take care of myself.”

“Not no more, love. Whatever it is you need, even if it’s to check a muthafucka for bumping into you at the store, I got it. I’ll do whatever for you and baby girl back there,” he stated, and I nodded, leaning up to kiss him. “Even though she stole my Crayons like Deebo and ain’t thank me.”

I let out a loud laugh before sinking my lips back into his.

“I feel good when I’m with you. I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing but you make me forget about the predicament I’m in,” I admitted.

A smile formed on his perfect lips before he said, “I feel good when I’m with you too. You make a nigga think about corny shit like putting up a Christmas tree, family dinners, and all them cuffin’ season activities.” We shared a chuckle before he got serious. “I like that I can trust you, love. I don’t feel that way ’bout too many people, especially women unrelated to me, but you different. You care a lot about the people in yo’ life and will put ya neck on the line to make sure they good. Ain’t too many muthafuckas genuine and loyal like that. Even though you used to looking out for everybody you fuck with, that ain’t what I’m here for. I want ya loyalty, of course, but I want you to put ya feet up for once. Relax and let a nigga put his neck on the line for you . You understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I nodded, caressing the side of his face as I peered up into his eyes. “And you’ll be loyal?”

“Always. I don’t forge real relationships on anything but loyalty. You the only woman a nigga ever wanted to be loyal to.”