Page 4 of Save Room for Us

“I am?”

“You are.” He stared deeply into my eyes, and it was then I grasped what he was saying. He knew what I did and that I’d set this up. “Do you have photographs or any evidence of previous abuse, shit like that?”

“Yeah, but my phone is um, I don’t know where it is. I lost it after I called?—”

“It’s aight. I’ll get it. That’s what I need.” He unbuttoned his suit jacket. “Anything else in your phone I should look for?” He started writing on a notepad.

“Um, some messages. Text messages.” I eyed him, and he nodded to let me know he understood.

“Aight. So right now, Cedric is still alive.”

“Fuck,” I grumbled softly.

Chuckling subtly, Bashar replied, “I know that’s not ideal, but as far as defending you and shit goes, itisgood. The less ofa charge we have to work with, the better. Not to mention, the Cedric I met is a loose cannon, easily angered and reminiscent of a child, aka just the type of muthafucka I wanna cross examine.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

He watched me for a moment, then inquired, “What made you do this shit, Anastazia?”

“It was the only way out, Bashar.” I sniffled. “Cedric is not a man you can call the police on or get a restraining order filed against.” I kept my eye contact strong so he would get where I was coming from. “The only way out when dealing with a man like Cedric is this way right here.” I banged lightly on the table with my cuffs as I began to tear up. “I don’t have anybody but me to protect me. I don’t have a dad anymore, no brothers, not even a male cousin. So it was either I let him kill me or I kill him.”

He nodded before saying, “Am I not yo’ brother?”

“You’re my sister’s husband, and that’s not proper for me to call you to help with my personal issues, especially not after how I treated you.”

“You were looking out for ya sister, and while I didn’t fuck with it at the time, I get it. Plus, I doubt I’m gon’ be the most welcoming muthafucka when Banks attempts to bring a nigga home.” He grinned, and I smiled softly in response, praying for that little girl’s love life.

She didn’t just have seven brothers; she had seven aggressive, hypermasculine, overbearing,crazyass brothers. Even Shakur, who was deemed the nicest of the bunch, wasn’t that nice. Then to top it off, she had a father who was the same way.

But one thing Banks could count on was she would never endure what I had, because she had eight men willing and ready to ride out on any nigga who so much as raised their voice at her. That was a luxury money couldn’t buy, and I unfortunately learned the hard way.

Despite me possibly going to jail for life, I was happy about what I had done. I was tired of living in fear every single day of my life. I was tired of hiding broken ribs and large bruises. I was tired of being drugged and raped in my sleep. I was tired of pretending Cedric was a good man and everyone needed to give him a break. I was tired of being afraid to go home and, on the nights I wasn’t drugged, worrying about Sophie in the next room. I probably looked fifty years old instead of the thirty that I was.

“Poor thing,” I responded.

“But look,” Bashar got serious, “from now on, I need yo’ ass to know you got me, same way Analicia and ya mama do. I doubt some shit like this will ever happen again, but if a nigga ever got you in fear, all you gotta do is say word, love. You understand?”

Seeing the sternness in his eyes and body language, I simply nodded to comply.

Bashar discussed with me the upcoming events and how I would have to remain in jail until the bail hearing, which he was sure he’d be able to get for me. He assured me not to worry about his court fees and the bail money, and though I planned to pay his expensive ass retainer some way and somehow, I again simply nodded to say ‘okay.’

Once he left me, he was able to convince the detectives to allow me a few minutes with Analicia. To be honest, I didn’t wanna face her. I knew her like the back of my hand, and she would be pissed I didn’t tell her about Cedric.

“Oh my gosh!” She rushed into the room and hugged me tightly. I couldn’t return the gesture because I was cuffed to the table.

“Five minutes, Mrs. Compton,” the detective called out, and Leeci sucked her teeth before going to sit across from me.

“Hi.” I smiled, but Leeci’s face wouldn’t break from the worried, confused, and angered expression she wore.

“You shot him?”

“I had to.”

“Was this the first time he hit you like this?” She nodded to my lip.

“No, this was a umm… bi-weekly thing.”

“Oh my gosh.” Leeci covered her face, her body trembling a bit from crying. “I always wondered if he did, but I never saw… anything on you, ever.”

---