Page 75 of Anything Necessary for Her
“I was struggling as far as my conscience went, keeping this shit from you, but the mere thought of not having Banks, even in secrecy, . . . I couldn’t fucking do it, boss. I couldn’t.” I shook my head, watching my hands as I spoke not only to Asif but to myself. “She ain’t gon’ let me slouch when it come to her, and you know that. I fuck with that. She don’t take no shit. Told me straight up that her daddy and y’all were good men, and therefore, I couldn’t convince her to accept less.” I watched Asif smirk as he looked down at his gun on the table. “I wouldn’t even try to give her less though. I wasn’t confident I could do what I needed to do to meet her expectations, but I realize?—”
“The right woman will make it easy.” He finished my statement, and it surprised me as I nodded woodenly.
“I ain’t gotta think about it or make myself do right like with Rue. It’s natural, . . . and I ain’t even hit yet.”
Frowning in discomfort, he said, “Keep letting me believe that, aight?”
“I got you.” I laughed. “She a St. Thomas, cuz, so I hope you know it wasn’t all me that made this shit happen.” I eyed him as he chuckled. “Y’all muthafuckas see something you want and become determined to obtain it. But y’all niggas, so y’all had to actually chase. All she had to do was just . . . be.”
His smile dissipated before he locked eyes with me, folding his hands atop the table, and saying, “Do right by my sister, cuz. Other than my wife and my kids, she’s my world, and no nigga will be able to freely walk this earth and say he fucked over Banks St. Thomas.
“I’m trusting you with something very important, precious, and special to a nigga. More important than all this.” He swirled his pointer finger to indicate the drug empire. “I want you to know though that I’m only trusting you because it’s what she wants, but also because I think you can do it. I’m a man in love myself, and I know that fucking look you got. I recognize that thought process when it come to yo’ lady. That’s what I need to see.”
I bobbed my head, not willing to admit how much his belief in a nigga meant to me—with Banks and with the empire.
“I don’ fumbled a lot of shit before, but never will I fumble a blessing such as her. The fact that she even fuck with me or looked my way is enough to make me ensure another nigga don’t get the opportunity to feel the power I feel when she look at me.”
“When it comes to Anastazia, no other woman can pull my attention and love from her. I don’t care what she look like, howshe talk, what she talking about, how big of a freak she is, none of that shit will make me look the other way. You on that?”
“Past that,” I half joked.
Asif nodded measuredly, regarding me momentarily before he rose, rounded the table, and dapped me up.
“When the last time you fought and then dapped the nigga up after?” I joked, walking him out after he locked his gun back in his waist.
“Shit, outside of my brothers—never.” He hit the key fob to his Rolls and added, “You like a brother to me too, though, so like with them, this don’t count. Make sure it’s the second and last time though.”
“It is.” I smirked, sinking my hands into the pockets of my joggers, smothering the smile I felt at my biggest inspiration and one of my biggest fans calling me a brother. To a nigga who came from a fractured family and from a mother who placed an inferiority complex on him, Asif had no idea how good hearing that shit felt. Almost as good as laying up with Peep.
Once he left, I cleaned my face up some, shaking my head at having two fights back-to-back. It would possibly be more on the horizon if the rest of Banks’s brothers wanted to get active, and I was with that. They’d have to smoke me to get me away from Banks.
Her father was a different story. I didn’t wanna have beef with my love’s father, so I would do anything I could to be sure he understood that I loved his daughter, and I was here to stay.
Leaving the warehouse, I stopped at fuck ass Starbucks for Banks, since she’d texted me to, then went straight to her crib.
“Don’t ever ask me to get that shit again, Peep. Had me up there looking stupid as fuck trying to order this shit. Know damn well I couldn’t pronounce no fucking makiata.” I ranted as soon as she answered her door as I slipped past her.
Cracking up as she read the label on the side of her iced cup, she replied, “It’smacchiato.” She was simpering until I turned to face her completely, making her smile falter. Putting her drink down instantly, she moved toward me. “What happened to you?”
“Yo’ brother.”
“Asif? What the fuck is wrong with him? I can’t stand his?—”
“It’s straight. We had a fair fight, and I at least had his mouth leaking.” I half joked. “It’s code, Peep. I would fight for you any fucking time.”
“You hit my brother in the mouth?” She frowned, making me laugh.
“Who side you on, baby? Damn. I ain’t do him as badly as Nique,” I admitted, feeling fucked up, but that nigga started it.
“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, taking my hand and trying to lead me away. “Good to know you fight better than you did years ago, even though I’m sure you still lost to Asif this time.” She shot at me for my dig at Unique.
Never one to front or lie on my name or dick, I shrugged. “I’m cool with Sif being the only nigga I can’t beat. Every other fight, ask about me.” I winked, and she giggled, smacking her lips with her hating ass.
“Nah, you gon’ drink that shit that had me up in Starbucks sounding like I rode the short bus.”
Cackling, she rolled her eyes playfully before scooping the drink up, shoving the straw down into it, and sipping.
We ventured to her bedroom where I updated her on what Asif and I discussed while she finished off her drink. Afterward, she brushed her teeth, then came back to lie beside me, leg thrown across. She was in one of my wife beaters I’d left over here, with no bra so that her dark, succulent nipples were visible.
