27. Cedric Pete

THE NEXT EVENING…

I groaned inwardly as I massaged my eyes, all types of thoughts in a whirlwind throughout my fucking mind. How I ended up here, in another home with another family and unable to move or even get my dick hard to fuck, unless accidentally, was crazy to me. Every single fucking day, I went over what happened between Anastazia and me, bit by bit, and couldn’t process it.

When I first met her, out at a lounge one night, I was immediately enamored with her. She was beautiful as hell and had a big, bright ass smile that seemingly lit up the otherwise dark ass lounge. She had a cute little body on her to match, and after speaking to her, I saw she was smart too. In other words, she was perfect, the whole package, and I had to have her despite instantly realizing she was out of my league. I figured I would step up though, bring myself to her level eventually.

The fact that she had a nigga didn’t truly faze me because, for one, he wasn’t her official man yet, and secondly, any muthafucka with sense would never allow a woman like that to be out free in the world for another nigga to scope on.

As time passed, she decided to leave that nigga Rodney alone and come with me. In the beginning, shit was good, but I noticed that I started to become envious of her.

Anastazia was the type that was always working toward some shit and always conquering goals. I’d made a good living, but in comparison to her, it never felt like enough. She was always the best, working to become better, furthering her education, and just outgrowing me in a sense. It was like I couldn’t catch up, and the more time went on, the more out of my league she felt.

The more accomplished she became, the more paranoid my ass became, thinking she would realize I wasn’t good enough and leave. So, as much as I didn’t want to, I took some sound advice my father had given me as soon as I turned sixteen which was that you had to keep your woman humble. Because if you didn’t, she would do me how Anastazia was currently doing and then run off like my mother had done him.

I wasn’t sure of the true ins and outs of why she left when I was only eight years old, but I knew she and my pops never got along, him hitting her on occasion, and one day, she told us she was going to the store and never returned.

But I digress. I panicked and did what my father taught me, starting with insulting Anastazia occasionally, when she did something that rubbed me the wrong way. That eventually graduated to slaps here and there, before I would full out hit her with a closed fist, making sure to keep away from areas often exposed, like her face or forearms. I even flirted with her sister to fuck with her self-esteem, which went too far because she left my ass. But when I caught up with her, I made sure she’d never attempt to leave again and made her agree to claim that she married me and was now my wife, keeping other niggas from coming at her.

It seemed like that wasn’t enough, though, or at least in my mind, it wasn’t. She was still beautiful, still had it going on and shit, so that was when I slipped a mickey in her drink and impregnated her, something she’d told me she didn’t want one hundred times over. I knew it was only so she could leave me with no ties, and I couldn’t have that, so I made her have my baby, trapping her for life.

But that bitch just wouldn’t be weak enough. No matter what I fucking did, she wasn’t as broken as I wanted her to be. She still went to work, still was sister and daughter of the year to Leeci and her mama, respectively, and was still hitting goals at work like life was good. She was Teflon, and that shit drove me crazy. But I made it clear to her ass that if she ever tried to leave me again, I would kill her, and I meant it. Only reason she wasn’t dead right now was because I was incapacitated like fuck.

“Here you go, baby.” Jacinta walked into the living room of her nice ass townhouse I’d been living in, placing a plate of baked chicken, green beans, and mashed sweet potatoes in front of me. A bottle of water followed it.

“Fuck is this?” I frowned, watching her pick up our son from the bassinet in an effort to breastfeed him. “I told you I wanted a burger.”

“I know, babe,” she latched Cedric Jr., “but the doctor said red meat isn’t good for you right now and to stay away from it. Healthier options are best right now.”

“I don’t give a fuck! You gon’ listen to another nigga or me?” I roared, making her startle. “Huh?” I tossed the plate, and it shattered against the wall, making our son wail loudly.

“It’s not like that, Cedric?—”

“Put that little nigga down and get me what the fuck I asked for, Jacinta.” I spoke through clenched teeth, staring into her wide ass eyes.

“Baby, I don’t have any meat to make burgers, but I can order you one from a restaurant or something.”

“Then do it. Fuck you still standing there for?”

“Okay.” She sat down on the couch, still cradling CJ with one arm, before grabbing up her cell phone. She kept glancing up at me warily like I would jump across the room on her ass, and maybe I would’ve had I been able to.

I could see she was horrified, trying to read me and understand what the fuck was happening. I’d never gotten this way with Jacinta’s ass, but I was tired of her fucking face and hearing her damn voice.

When we met, I saw how thirsty she was for a man, considering the fact that Anastazia had been villainizing my character, yet she was still in my face, batting her eyelashes in the parking lot of the hospital.

She was supposed to be a simple fuck that I threw in Anastazia’s face to make her feel bad about herself, but the shit had spiraled out of control when I went into that coma, because Jacinta took it upon herself to expose our affair as something more than what it was. She’d even told me she was getting a fucking abortion when she first revealed her pregnancy, so to wake up to being a father had me wanting to murk her ass. That meant I’d been fucking with this bitch all the while she was hiding an early-stage pregnancy from me.

Jacinta knew full well I didn’t want her coming at Anastazia or making her think I was gon’ be with her instead, but I guess she thought I wouldn’t want Anastazia anymore after she shot me; that was far from the fucking truth. Anastazia was mine, and if I wasn’t gon’ have her, no one else would.

I wasn’t worried about Asif killing me, which I knew he would do because I could see in his eyes that he was serious, and I got a terror filled feeling when I looked at him. I’d never been scared of another man, but Asif was evil. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to be able to tell he’d bodied a many niggas. Regardless, him wanting to kill me for bothering Anastazia meant nothing because once I got her, I would kill her and then myself. That was the plan, and I would finally have some relief.

So right now, she could think she was free, happy, and about to run off into the sunset with her little cartel, kingpin—whatever the fuck he was—boyfriend, but it wasn’t gon’ happen. She was coming back to me and then to God.

“How much fucking longer?” I asked, running my hand down my face.

“Says it will be here in fifteen minutes.” Jacinta checked the app on her phone, then set it back next to her on the couch. “We have to meet with your lawyer in the morning, babe. I wanna remind you so you won’t stay up late.”

“For what? All they need to do is see me in this fuck ass wheelchair and know what she did was fucking wrong.” I shook my head. I was conflicted.

I wanted Anastazia in prison for what she did to me and how she ruined my fucking life, but same time, I wanted her and to wipe her from this Earth since she was done with a nigga. But even if she did want me, I was useless. I couldn’t walk, couldn’t fuck, and couldn’t practice my trade, which was construction, and it was all her fucking fault. I was no longer a man.

“True, but her defense is saying you beat her, and she did this as a means of self-defense. We need to meet with Emilia so she can go over some of the things she believes Bashar will ask you.”

Bashar. Old bitch ass nigga. Of course he was Anastazia’s lawyer.

“He bet not say shit to me.”

“Cedric, you cannot blow up in court. That won’t help, because they’re trying to paint you as a crazy, abusive man. Keep your cool to prove them wrong, babe.”

I nodded, grabbing my own phone to check the time. I noticed it’d been several days since I’d heard from that weird nigga Grady. He was supposed to hit me up and let me know when he had Anastazia, and that was three days ago. I didn’t expect shit to take this long, and I knew he didn’t have her because I would’ve heard about it from somebody somewhere. We knew too many of the same people, and no one mentioned her ass being missing.

Against my better judgement, I shot him a text.

Me: ETA???

The message turned green, catching me off guard, just as the doorbell sounded off.

“Quicker than expected.” I put my phone up as Jacinta put a sleeping CJ back in the bassinet to go retrieve the food.

She gathered everything, smiling all hard at the nigga delivering it, but I didn’t truly care. While I liked Jacinta, I had no feelings for her, so seeing other niggas eye her or vice versa did nothing to me. It wasn’t the same as it was with Anastazia, who looked way better anyway. And it seemed like niggas were always checking for the latter, driving me crazy. I literally would be going insane whenever she went somewhere during the time I had jobs and couldn’t trail her all day.

The thought of that muthafucka Asif sleeping with her, holding her, smelling her, conversing with her, and worst of all, being inside her kept my ass up all night. I remembered vividly what that was like and how addicting she was, which made sense as to why the nigga was willing to put a hot one in me over her. She just did that to people. So when he said he’d been plotting on her since he’d seen her, I knew the shit was true. Him wanting to fuck her while she was mine and then successfully taking her had a nigga incensed.

“Don’t worry, baby. That bitch Stazi will rot in jail.” Jacinta placed my food on the tray table for the second time tonight, breaking through my thoughts.

I didn’t know what she said before that, but hearing her speak on Anastazia and to be the reason why I knew she was completely done with me, pissed me off.

Out of reflex, I grabbed a handful of Jacinta’s hair, causing her to whimper, eyes filled to the brim with shock. “Who said I wanted her to rot in prison?” I growled. “You was supposed to keep our shit under wraps any-fucking-way! Nobody told you to go running ya fucking mouth. You the main reason why she won’t even look my way, you dumb bitch.” I tightened my grip as she whimpered, begging for me to let go. “I should kill you.”

“No, baby, no. I love you. I’m sorry for what I did. I am.”

Letting her hair go, I swiftly slapped her ass, hard as hell, making her fly onto the nearby couch with a grunt. I nodded, realizing that even while paralyzed, I still had it.

“Be glad I can’t get the fuck up and really do you how I want, bitch.” I eyed my food. “Where the fuck is my straw?”

“Whose house is this?” my stepsister Allyson asked.

“Nobody. Be right back.” I nodded for her to get back in the car after helping me out of it and into the wheelchair.

I would’ve preferred for Jacinta to drive me, but she had to work still so the bills could get paid. While at work, my stepmom watched CJ for her.

Rolling up the walkway and to the door, I rang the doorbell of the residence Grady was held up in.

“Yes?” A woman answered the door, face balled in confusion, which was expected since she didn’t know me.

“Aye, you know Grady?”

“I do.” She folded her arms, making herself more visible.

She was thick, in some little ass shorts that could double as panties. I licked my lips at the outline of her pussy but quickly remembered I didn’t have shit for her but a tongue, and I wasn’t tasting pussy that wasn’t familiar to me. This was all Anastazia’s fault.

“Can you go get him? I need to speak to that nigga.”

“I don’t know where he is. He left one day, saying he was gonna get his leg looked at, and hasn’t been back.”

“Like at a doctor?” I frowned and she shrugged. This bitch didn’t know shit. “Fuck.” I turned my wheelchair around, having no more use for that bitch.

Shaking my head, I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that nigga. He randomly pulled up on me at therapy talking all this shit about how Asif couldn’t be trusted, and we should work together since he hated him and I wanted Anastazia back. I usually wouldn’t be so willing to work with a random ass nigga, but I was desperate and handicapped, so beggars couldn’t be choosy.

I was skeptical for a minute, but when he produced the photos of them and shit, showing his loyalty, I was down. Never meant for my pops to get them, however, because he would use them to get Anastazia thrown in prison, supporting their theory that she shot me for her own gain, and I didn’t want that really. I wanted to handle her myself. Have her look in my eyes as I took her life. Watching her cry and plead the same way she did when I damn near drowned her when she tried to leave me for flirting with Leeci.

My plan, though, was to ghost Grady when he wanted the rest of his payment, because while I wasn’t scary or a punk, I wasn’t about to go to war with Asif over her. I was gon’ let that nigga deal with Asif on his own. He wasn’t a nigga I could just plot to have murdered and press on. He was a menace and too fucking respected. So, unless you had an army of your own, it was a death sentence to challenge that nigga in any way. I didn’t care how much Grady claimed to know; he and I alone just didn’t measure up.

“Aye, you know anybody that would be close with him or would know more about where he could be?” I turned to ask old girl still watching me in her doorway.