8. Asif

“Thank you for coming!” Scotland beamed as she hugged me.

“Of course.” I nodded, taking in the newest nail shop she’d opened. This was her second location, and tonight, there was an exclusive invite for people to check shit out.

As Scotland talked to me about the available refreshments, I peeped the scene, looking for Anastazia. We hadn’t talked much since our outing, and though I wanted to smother her ass, I didn’t at the same time. I wasn’t selfish enough to not understand that she was going through a lot. Only reason I wasn’t putting as much pressure on her as a nigga wanted was because I did understand.

She’d just gotten out of a traumatic ass situation, and I’d preferred being patient, allowing her to naturally fall into this relationship versus being forced. I didn’t want her thinking shit was now or never when it was actually on some forever shit.

“Daddy!” Milan rushed up to me, and when I looked at Scotland, she clenched her teeth.

“My assistant invited everybody on the VIP list. Forgot to take her off.” She skated away just as Milan made it to me.

No Anastazia, and Milan being present? Yeah, I was ready to dip.

“What’s good?” I side hugged Milan as I scanned the room again.

“I miss?—”

“Be right back.” I stepped off, locating my brothers. “What’s good?” I grinned, slapping hands with them all, but stopping in front of Leeci, who was seated in Bashar’s lap. “Where big sis?” I questioned, trying to be nonchalant about the shit, but the way Analicia smiled like she knew a secret I didn’t let me know I hadn’t played it cool enough.

“Scotti invited her, but I figured she wasn’t coming because she’s busy,” she answered.

“Why?” Shakur inquired, leaning against the wall with his wife shielding him.

“No reason, muthafucka. Worry about what you got.” I tried to keep a stern face but couldn’t help smirking.

“Aww shit!” Unique bellowed, fist to his mouth. “Asif don’ finally ran across a woman who got his little boxer briefs in a bunch!”

“Nah, you mixing me up with yo’ ass.” I shook my head. “My briefs ain’t tight enough to be all up in my ass like yours.”

Lequay, Bashar, and Shakur doubled over in laughter as the ladies tried to stifle theirs. Unique sucked his teeth and waved me off.

“So you don’t like her?” Analicia quizzed, brows kissing like she was readying to punch me if I said the wrong shit.

“Nah, I do. This stupid ass nigga just be doing too much.” I nodded to my brother.

“How much older is she than you?” Unique questioned. “Or is she? ’Cause nigga, you look like you pushing forty, and she look nineteen.”

“That’s not what that little bitch you brought to the lounge that night said.” I shrugged, and Unique’s lids lowered.

“You hit?” He frowned.

“He fucking with you. Chill out.” Lequay tapped his chest.

“Am I?” I walked off, leaving Unique’s crazy ass to talk shit.

I ordered a drink and whipped my iPhone out while I waited for it to be made.

Me: Why you not at the grand opening?

Baby girl: Wasn’t in the mood. I have too much to do around here and the trial prep has taken a lot out of me.

Baby girl: I’ll be at the next one. I sent Scotland a gift though.

I smirked, grabbing my drink and going to sit down. I felt Milan on my heels, and like clockwork, she slid into a nigga’s lap.

Me: You good to the people you care about.

Me: I like that.

Baby girl: So are you. Them hood niggas don’t love you just because you’re Asif St. Thomas, I don’t care what you say. You’re just a good person.

I read her message several times, only stopping when Milan put her hand over my screen.

“What?” I frowned.

“So you’re gonna be on your phone all night?” She sucked her teeth.

“Calm down.” I spoke against her ear. “Don’t start that shit tonight. I ain’t in the fucking mood. Either you enjoy the time you get or take yo’ ass on, but I’m not for the complaining shit.”

When I pulled back, she nodded.

Me: I appreciate that baby.

Fuck it.

Me: What you doing?

Some song by Chris Brown dropped, getting people excited, including Milan. Rising from my lap she started to pop her ass above me, before dropping in my lap roughly, on purpose, grinding against my dick.

Baby girl: Reading some articles on ancient medicine.

Me: Sounds like a good ass time.

Baby girl: Lol! Very funny. It’s interesting to me.

Me: I wanna read too.

Baby girl: you don’t have to do things I like.

Me: I know. I want to. You interesting as fuck to me so I’m into what you be into.

Baby girl: Well this one is about how they used urine to treat certain illnesses. Wanna be my guinea pig?

I grinned, typing my reply, but looked up for a second to see Analicia glaring at me. I was confused until I realized Milan was in my lap, grinding hard on a nigga.

“Aye, I’ll be right back.” I shot Milan the same line from moments ago and slid from under her.

Leaving out of the salon, I hopped in my whip to get back to my conversation with Anastazia.

Me: You the only woman I would ever let pee on a nigga. Can I at least taste the pussy first?

Baby girl: oh my gosh!

She sent crying laughing emojis, and as I awaited my answer, Milan came outside and climbed into my passenger seat.

“Is it cool if you drive me home?” she asked dryly, clearly upset, but I didn’t give a fuck.

Baby girl: They claim squirting is pee so if you can make me do that then…

My dick instantly got hard thinking about Anastazia laid out on my fucking bed, squirting after letting me lick that pussy.

“Mm.” I groaned out loud in sexual frustration as I started the car, pulling out without even answering Milan’s ass.

As I started to drive, Milan reached over to pull my dick out, moaning happily at the fact that it was hard already. Little did she know, it had nothing to do with her ass. She wasted no time taking a nigga into her mouth, slobbing on my shit perfectly.

Baby girl: I’m joking.

Me: Nah now I’m on a mission to make you squirt.

I sat back at the red light, Milan still slurping, until she noticed me texting instead of basking in her services.

“Are you the one the news claimed she was cheating with and why she wanted to kill her man?” Milan sat up, wiping her mouth.

“Nah, all that shit is lies.” I put my dick away. As good as her mouth felt, I wanted to fuck Anastazia, and unfortunately, another mouth or pussy wouldn’t satisfy my need at the moment.

“You think so?” She folded her arms. “I think she just wanted a new man because I seen the photos of her ex, and he looks like a nice man. I can’t imagine him beating, drugging, and raping her as she claims. Nope.”

Instantly irritated, I asked, “Since when do muthafuckas look like the personality they portray? I know niggas that’s all of five feet three with pigtails that will knock a nigga out and got more bodies than Ted Bundy.”

“No, I know, I was just… You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Stop always being sorry and just think before you say shit.” I shook my head.

“She’s so basic, by the way.”

“Is she?” I was over this conversation, this fucking car ride, and especially Milan.

“She is. Every time I see her, it’s giving nothing.” She laughed. “She’s pretty in that normal way. She’s no great beauty. But that’s what you niggas like… I guess.”

“Let me guess, you not basic?” I glanced her way.

Slightly caught off guard, she replied, “Well… um, no. Ask the internet, and they will tell you.” She pulled some gloss from her bag and covered her lips.

“You ever think a bitch could be basic due to how she think and carries herself? Or the shit she doing with her life?”

“I guess so, yeah.” She looked my way briefly.

“You got a boutique that can’t even send out orders, but she got several nursing degrees. You gotta have ya ass out to get niggas to pay you any attention, and all she gotta do is walk by, maybe smile if she want to. Yo’ five-year plan is having a baby by a nigga with clout so he can take care of you, while hers involves another degree and making sure her daughter is set.”

“Asif, I didn’t mean?—”

“Nah, you did.” I pulled over in front of her building. “The biggest thing, though, is how basic yo’ thought process is in comparison to hers. You almost thirty, still thinking a fat ass and pretty face can’t make you basic. You got that fat ass, you got that face, and I still don’t fuck with you like that.”

“I’m sorry!” She sobbed.

“I ain’t mean to make you cry, love, but understand some shit. Don’t you ever call that woman basic in my presence. And if you do it behind my back, make sure word don’t get back to me.

“You jealous and you hatin’. That’s normal ’cause yo’ feelings is involved, no matter how much you say they ain’t. But I ain’t the nigga that’s gon’ allow you to disrespect anything or anyone I got the utmost respect for.”

“I get it. Again, I didn’t mean it.” She touched my shoulder. “Come upstairs and I will show you.”

“Nah, I’m on some other shit tonight, M.”

“What?” Her voice shot up several octaves. “No, daddy, I didn’t mean any harm?—”

“Stop with that daddy shit. I ain’t yo’ fucking pimp.”

Swallowing hard, she said, “Sif, baby?—”

“Good night, Milan.” I finally turned away from the front windshield to look into her misty ass eyes.

“I’m sorry, for real.” She waited, watching me, but when I nodded to the door, she tugged on the latch and stepped out.

Standing on the curb, she hugged herself as I peeled off down the street. When I got to the red light, I checked my phone.

Baby girl: Think you can make me squirt?

Me: If not, I wanna die trying.

Baby girl: Lmao

Baby girl: Why are you so funny?

Hitting her number, I let her soft ass voice pour through the speakers.

“I love hearing you talk,” I admitted.

“Really? I always thought my voice was annoying.”

“Nah, it’s soft and soothing as fuck. Probably shouldn’t have called you. A nigga ain’t trying to doze off on the road.”

She giggled, and damn was it sexy. If sexy and soft was a person, it’d be Anastazia.

“I don’t want that happening either. Should I hang up?” I heard the humor in her voice.

“Please don’t.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “I’m kind of scared to have sex with you. Not saying I plan to, but when the thought does cross my mind…”

“What? Why?” I frowned. “Be the best time of ya fucking life. I promise.”

She laughed.

“Yeah, no. I mean because you have a pretty big dick. I felt it when you kissed me, and it’s like my daughter’s arm.”

We both chortled loudly.

“Don’t be scared when it comes down to it, baby. I’m very dedicated to foreplay, so I’ll make sure you nice and wet before I even attempt.” I exhaled heavily. “I wanna fuck you bad too. But I’m chilling, love. I like yo’ pacing. Just know when you give a nigga that access, I’m gon’ take good care of it. Only murderin’ it in the best way.”

“Okay.” She giggled softly again. “So you like foreplay?”

“Love Foreplay. Need Foreplay. A nigga invented foreplay.”

“Oh,” she replied breathily.

“You gon’ be taken care of period, though, not just in the bedroom, baby.”

I could hear her sigh, positively, and it was obvious she was smiling. “Tell me something else you learned while reading.”

“Okay. I got a good one for you.” I could hear the excitement in her voice as she got ready to read me her findings and shit.

I relaxed against the heated seat, allowing my dick to go down, hopefully, as I let Anastazia’s soft ass voice soothe me home.

“Old man, what you doing in here?” I entered my father’s office.

“It’s my office, ain’t it?” He looked my way briefly as he held onto some papers.

“I know but you retired.” I sat down across from his desk.

“Just throwing out some old shit. I wanna clean it out so I can come up with some new shit to put in here.” His head whipped around to take in the big ass office as if he hadn’t seen the shit millions of times. “You want a drink.” He stood, smiling.

“I can sip a little something. What’s so funny?”

Walking to the small fridge, he grabbed an iced tea for himself, then poured me some of the whiskey from his decanter before nodding for me to come sit near the fireplace where he was headed.

“When you were born, I couldn’t wait to ask you that shit, and now, I don’t even drink. Stopped before you even became of age.” He handed me the glass once I was seated next to him.

Chuckling into my glass before swallowing the strong liquid, I said, “You don’t want a quick taste?”

“I’m straight.” He sat back into the butter leather couch.

“You not missing nothing,” I admitted. “I smoked and drank way more a few years ago. Now, I need my head clear on a lot of shit, so I refrain unless I’m chilling for the night. Gotta keep my eyes peeled and shit.”

My family always fucked with me on how I was suspicious of everyone, everybody and their intentions who didn’t rock the Compton and St. Thomas name, but I didn’t give a fuck. Niggas and bitches alike couldn’t be trusted.

Before jumping into this game and running into other muthafuckas from all walks of life, every man being out for himself, I assumed people were inherently good. Not women but people. Women were more difficult for a nigga, just from having a mother like I had. I knew if a bitch could dog out her own flesh and blood, she could definitely do it to a random nigga.

My father looked over at me, staring, before nodding approvingly.

“You just like yo’ pops, you know that?”

“Except better. You forgot that part,” I jested, sipping again. “Anybody mentioned Anastazia working for me?”

“Leeci’s sister?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, watching the fireplace though the shit wasn’t on.

“She’s pretty.”

“I know, Pop.” I laughed, holding the glass to my lips but not drinking. “I feel like a fucking hypocrite, telling them niggas not to even think about getting with her, when that’s all a nigga been thinking about.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“It’s part of it. I don’t want her feeling like I gave her this opportunity in order to fuck on her. And I don’t want them niggas around thinking she only there because I’m fucking on her. I want her to be respected and for them niggas to understand that she’s knowledgeable, she deserves the position, and she’s not to be disrespected. She’s not some pretty nurse that they could potentially get their dick wet with. Or some pretty chick fucking the boss.”

“Is she?”

“Nah, not at the moment.” I smirked. “You nosy, old man,” I said, making him snicker slightly as he took down some of his tea. “I want her, but I wanna protect her more. Don’t want her thinking she gotta come to work with electric fence material on her panties.”

We chortled in unison.

I was laughing with my father but serious. It was clear to me by the shit Anastazia said that she wasn’t used to being protected or hadn’t been in a long time. When I’d asked her to come work for a nigga, her main gripe was that she didn’t want to be thrown into a lion’s den of salivating street niggas. And from what I knew, her father had passed, and she had no male family members and had been residing with a nigga who resulted to putting shit in her system so he could have his way with her.

“I feel you. Just keep shit separate if you can. When she working, treating her like an employee, mainly in front of them. When she clock out, shit, do you, young nigga.”

“That might work.” I set the glass down on the coffee table. “On to business shit. I wanna see about implementing a scholarship program for black underprivileged kids so they can go to school. Only stipulations will be shit like grades, not no unattainable shit like straight A’s though, and they have to attend a black college.”

“I like it. But what if they don’t wanna leave home, assuming they’re from LA. Ain’t no black colleges here.”

“That’s the stipulation.” I shrugged. “Majority of the black race that’s here migrated from southern states anyway. They need to take their asses over there and learn about the roots most of us got down there any fucking way. Then, bring their asses back home when they finish.” When my dad nodded, I added, “That and something for black homeowners. We gotta get our people some more fucking property ’cause all that shit contributes to generational wealth.”

“You just might be the better version of me, young nigga.” He patted my back with a grin.

“Ain’t no might.” I smiled. “Nah, Pop, wouldn’t be no me without you, so that shit ain’t possible.”

Bobbing his head in approval, he replaced the cap on his tea and said, “Let me whup yo’ ass in some chess right quick then.”

“I been letting you win, but it’s time I humble you.” I stood along with him as he threw his head back to laugh.

Shutting the engine down outside the warehouse, I checked my pager again before dropping the shit back in my pocket. Low had been monitoring the new shipment, and since he hadn’t hit me, I knew all was well.

Entering the building, I slapped hands with a few of my niggas before going to check on the females in the room, void of any clothes and counting for the day.

In the distance, where Anastazia worked, I heard voices, making me tread that way.

“Yeah, I don’t know what it is, but my head been killing me,” I heard this nigga Don complain, and two other niggas, Gary and Hit, chuckled as they stood in the room with him.

“Okay, sit down,” Anastazia advised him, worry in her forehead as she began to look him over.

“I’m feeling a little better already,” Don admitted, rendering more laughter from Gary and Hit, as I walked into the room.

Anastazia caught on and stood upright, clearly frustrated by the little joke these niggas thought would be funny. As she turned, Don’s eyes dropped to her round ass, licking his lips.

“You can go. I don’t have time for this.” She sighed, smoothing the edges of her bun that had unruly curls coming from it. She was so fucking pretty. No matter how stressed she was, that honey brown complexion was always luminous and buttery.

“Aww, come on, baby. How else am I gonna get close to you. You don’t like a little role-play?” Don continued, his two dumb ass counterparts laughing and not realizing I was in the room.

I started clapping, wiping the smiles off all three of them niggas’ faces as Don hopped up from the chair like he’d sat on a seat of thorns. Anastazia looked my way, lips parted slightly, but I could see the annoyance still lingering in her pretty face as she mushed her glossy lips together.

“Fuck you looking scared for? I’m applauding yo’ fucking performance.” I clapped a bit more while staring at Don.

“Nah, I was just kidding, boss.” He tried to laugh, but he was too terrified.

With the quickness, I snatched his ass up by that minimal ass hang time he called braids, making him call out.

“Asif!” Anastazia shrieked as I made Don face her, his face balled up in pain.

“Everybody, come in this fucking clinical room!” I roared, making Gary and Hit startle a bit.

It took merely seconds for every nigga in this warehouse, minus Dave, who was guarding the money room, to file into the clinic area as Don continued to whimper, shoulders hunched out of discomfort.

“I’m gon’ only say this shit once. The next time, I’m gon’ let this shit on my waist do the muthafuckin’ talking. If any one of you niggas make unwanted advances at Anastazia, I’m gon’ put you down quicker than a three-legged racehorse.

“She. Not. Here. For. That. I don’t give a fuck if you playing, serious, or think she the one God sent into yo’ life. If I catch you trying to make a pass, I’m gon’ make sure you pass. Anybody got questions?” I looked around the room as they all shook their heads, mumbling ‘no.’ Removing my gun, I placed it to Gary’s temple, making his eyes widen. “That goes for niggas who stand by and watch too. You see a nigga on bullshit and don’t step, I’m gon’ step.”

“I got you. I got you. I’m sorry.” Gary put his hands up in mock surrender. Every soldier in the room followed his lead as Hit stared at the gun like he would shit himself any moment.

“I’m sorry too, boss. Fuck.” Don whimpered as I tightened my grip on his hair with my other hand.

“Apologize to Anastazia.” I shook him a bit, making him yelp.

“I—I’m sorry, Stazi.”

“It’s fine. It’s fine, I swear.” She nodded.

Pushing Don, I let him go and nodded for everyone else to leave the fucking room. Seemingly seconds later, it was just Anastazia and me.

“My bad for what he did, love.” I tried to reach for her hand, but she stepped back a bit.

“You didn’t have to do all of that, Asif. It was just a stupid joke.” She frowned up at me. “Yeah, it annoyed me, but what is he, nineteen?”

“He twenty-six, but that’s not the fucking point, baby. You let one nigga get away with some shit, and next thing you know, everybody doing it.”

“I mean, yeah, but you could’ve just reprimanded him with words.”

“With all due respect, baby, the way I did it is exactly how you have to. Let one muthafucka get off with mild repercussions, and they all gon’ think shit is a game. I run shit with an iron fist. I ain’t the big homie ’round this bitch. I’m the boss. I’m a cool ass nigga so long as you do what the fuck you ’posed to and don’t cross me, but I ain’t for the disrespect.

“This a fucking job, and on top of that, you not here for their amusement or to feed their sexual appetite.”

Looking down a bit, she said, “I guess I’m just not used to this environment, but I’m sure your expertise supersedes mine.” When she looked up at me, a smile tugged at her full lips, and like always, it was contagious, making me do the same.

I took her hands in mine, and she let me this time. They were so fucking soft, and she smelled so good. I wanted to keep it real with Anastazia and tell her that while all I said was true, a part of me didn’t like the shit that just happened because she was for me. I didn’t want other niggas taking her for a joke, and I especially didn’t want other niggas trying their hand with her. If Anastazia was gon’ be single, cool, but if she wasn’t, she needed to be with me.

Same time, I knew she’d just got off the possessive nigga express and most likely wasn’t looking to be possessed by someone else. So, me telling her I went all out, not only because I demanded her respect from these niggas, but because in my head, she was mine, might not sit well with her. I had to ease my way in, making sure she understood I wasn’t that coward ass nigga she was used to and that our ideas of possession meant two different things.

I wanted her to be safe. I wanted all her fucking time she didn’t spend working or with her family and friends to be mine. I wanted to wake up to her, go to sleep next to her. Listen to her tell me about all the weird types of treatments and cures she found from the seventeenth century. I wasn’t interested in keeping her locked up, depressed, and scared like that mark ass nigga.

Rubbing circles on the backs of her hands with my thumb, I said, “I missed you at the grand opening.”

“I wanted to come, but with working, being a mother, and everything else, I couldn’t muster up the energy. And I didn’t wanna be a wet blanket at her event.” She tried to smile. “I have never had to drink two coffees a day in my life, and that says a lot coming from a nurse.”

Chuckling and interlocking our fingers, I said, “You too good at what you do. Sophie is lucky, for real. Anybody around you is lucky.” I kissed her nose, and she smiled.

“You know your mother?” She closed her eyes immediately after asking. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that. I was just curious because you never mention her, and Analicia didn’t know. No one ever mentions her.”

“You good. So you been asking your sister about a nigga?”

“Like once.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, lying.

“I don’t mind.” I let her go, shut the door, then sat down. “Come here.”

She hesitated but switched over, allowing me to set her on one of my legs. It was intimate but didn’t feel like too much.

“Am I heavy?”

“Little bit.” I winced, and her jaw dropped. “You not, baby. I’m fucking with you.” I kissed her neck, lingering a second so I could take in her sweet smell. “I do know my mother though. We weren’t close, ever, from what I remember, and then when I was like nine, she got committed after telling her friend or somebody that she wanted to drive me to the lake.”

Telling her my moms also tried to have Lisara murked was too much, so I kept that shit under wraps.

“Are you serious?” Her eyes bounced around my face as her arm rested along my shoulders. I felt her soft fingertips press into my shoulder.

“I am.” I tried to titter it off. “There were a few times I remember spending with her, and the shit was cool, but she was only doing it to make my father happy. They would argue and shit. He ain’t know, but I would hear him getting on her ass about not being maternal. Then like clockwork, she would come to me, wanting to do something, be nice, cook for me.” I chuckled, saying, “I always remembered her telling me to make sure I mentioned whatever she did to my pops.”

“I couldn’t imagine being that way to Sophie. I think I love her more than myself.”

“Because you’re a good mother, baby. I don’t think my moms ever wanted to be a mother. I think it happened, and she knew if she aborted it, my pops wouldn’t fuck with her. Or maybe she trapped the nigga. I don’t know, but I doubt she pictured a life with kids in the shit.”

“I’m happy you got Lisara though.”

“Me too. I got attached to her ass quickly as fuck too.” I smirked, making Anastazia do the same. “She was nice, beautiful as hell, and she could cook a mean ass cheeseburger.” We chuckled in unison. Letting mine dissipate, I continued. “She was comforting, gave great hugs and shit. Always smelled good. Anybody that say a boy don’t need his mother is a fucking lie, love. At that time, I would’ve traded my video games and anything else I treasured to keep Lisara’s ass around.”

“Sounds like if she and your father broke up, you would’ve went with her.” She simpered.

“Probably, shit.” I grinned as Anastazia giggled. “On some real shit, I probably would’ve asked if he could leave me with her. She was fine, too, so that helped.”

“Ew, Asif. That’s like your mom.”

“Yeah, that shit is disgusting to think about now, but back then, she wasn’t exactly my mama. She was a beautiful ass woman who could cook her ass off and was cool.”

“I can understand that.” She nodded, smirking some.

I tightened my arm around her waist as she stayed planted in my lap, while her hand gravitated toward my beard. Only a beat passed before we kissed.

“I like you, Anastazia,” I revealed, something she already fucking knew.

“I don’t get why,” she whispered back to me, lips still grazing mine as she dragged her nails through my beard. I liked that shit for some reason. “I don’t mean to be self-deprecating. I just truly don’t get the allure, Asif.”

“You beautiful, for starters.” I picked her hand up from my face and kissed the inside. “From the first day I saw you, fresh out the hospital and still a stunna, I knew then if you were that pretty after giving birth, I could only imagine you on the regular.

“I wanted you then, to at least exchange numbers, pick ya brain, but I ain’t press it because my brother told me you were married, and that shit coupled with the new baby, I wasn’t trying to infiltrate a happy home. As badly as I wanted you, I believe in karma and wasn’t trying to take the next nigga’s piece of peace simply because I was attracted to you. Not to mention, I was getting my feet wet in the game and needed to focus. A lot of muthafuckas think this shit was handed to me and I just took over, which in a sense, I did, but I cleaned house a lot. Formed my own shit, my own connections, changed a lot of shit around, and it wasn’t easy. I work different than my brother.

“Anyway, I left it alone, but now, you free game. Now, I know you was never at peace, and that nigga didn’t appreciate what he had. Had I known that shit back then, I wouldn’t have given a fuck about taking you from him. And though I find you beautiful, Anastazia, your mind, your intelligence, your strength is what attracts a nigga most. I fuck with the fact that you can take matters into ya own hands, stand on yo’ own, even though while you with me, you won’t need to.”

As much as niggas pretended, no real man, no alpha, wanted a weak bitch by his side. Weak women were good for fucking, bending to your rules, and anything else that wouldn’t cause an inconvenience for a nigga who didn’t have long term intentions. Weak females weren’t there to be yo’ fucking partner, build with you, raise yo’ fucking kids.

Niggas who did fuck with weak bitches for the long run were the same niggas who didn’t understand a strong woman could also be submissive. They were the same niggas wondering why their easy-going, weak-willed girlfriend was bouncing on their right-hand’s dick while they sat behind bars.

“That means a lot to me.” She nodded.

“I’m glad, but I’m just speaking facts. A lot of women hear strong, especially black women, and think it means you can weather a storm a nigga is about to throw yo’ way, but I wanna clarify that ain’t what I’m on at all. When I say you strong, I mean you not gon’ let a nigga slip, especially not now. You gon’ keep a nigga in line, and though I got my shit together, my mentality together, even the best niggas gotta be kept on track here and there.”

“True.” She grinned. “My father was the best man ever, but my mama had to check him a few times for always being too generous. Any time family on his side needed something, he would give it. I always thought my mom was being too mean, but as I got older, I understood it. So I know what you mean.”

“How did he die?”

“Lung cancer. He had a bad cough for years, but by the time he agreed to see a doctor after years of my mom trying to make him, he was coughing up blood. I swear he went to the doctor and was seemingly dead weeks later, but it was more like some months.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” She looked down. “I always miss him, but I especially did when I was living in hell with Cedric. I knew my daddy would’ve bust a cap in his ass.”

“Mr. Chase was doing it like that?” I lifted my brows, and she chortled.

“He was no gangster, but he carried, and he didn’t play about his daughters.”

“I like him.” I nodded. “I’m gon’ be the same way when or if I have a daughter. Tell Sophie buckle up.”

Anastazia’s eyes sparkled at my comment.

“I like you too, Asif. But I have to be honest. If you’re expecting us to have a whirlwind romance and be engaged by next week, I can’t promise that.”

“I told you I like yo’ pace. I’m on yo’ time, love. Still think we might be engaged by next week though.”

“Oh my gosh.” She cracked up, and there it was again, warmth all over the fucking room like the sun was in it whenever she smiled or laughed.

I truly didn’t fucking understand how a man could see that shit and not wanna make it happen all the fucking time.

“I love ya laugh, baby. And how ya eyes turn to slits when you do it.” I pecked her as she hugged my neck. “I know you got a lot on ya plate—me, too, though not as much—but just save a little room this. For us. I only wanna complement shit, not complicate it. Aight?”

“Alright.” She nodded.