How Did You Want It Again?

23

*I'd like to mind you readers this chapter's events happened weeks prior to Devon's death.*

*Also this chapter is written in third person*

Cato's been working in the laundry room making fifteen cents a day as he works towards rehabilitation. And whenever he comes in the laundry room, he hears Tyrone's voice in his head saying, "These machines may seem small, but they're big enough to ball a nigga body up in." I'd hate to have to fold me a nigga Cato said to himself.

Cato turned his back for one second to pick up the detergent when he was grabbed by his forearms and started to push back against the persons making him automatically go into defense mode. A wide bicep wrapped around his neck cutting off his windpipe. His hands were bound together behind him and he used his feet to walk up the washer to escape the tight grip on his neck and ended up behind one of the perpetrators when he sent a strong punch into one of the white men's head. That's when one of them brought their elbow down swiftly against his neck and kicked at his knee causing him to scream in pain, but was quickly muffled by a sweaty calloused palm. The two huge men dragged Catora's sore body out of the laundry room and into a storage closet the size of The Evans family from Good Times living room where the bins for the clothes were kept and where many murders occured.

Victor was chilling in one of the bins sharpening his knife a friend snuck in through his ass before his attention was brought to Catora's body being shoved through the door and to the floor. Catora groaned in pain, clenching his arms that were already forming bruises.

"Wassup' bro." Victor mimicked what he called 'nigger talk' before having them stand Cato up on his feet before sending a mean uppercut to Cato's stomach followed by two more. Cato's face scrunched in pain and he began to throw up a small amount of clear liquid as they allowed his body to slowly fall to the floor again.

"You didn't think you'd get away with killing my men did you? You fucked up big time and you're going to pay." He kneeled to Cato's level reeking of cigarettes and bad breath. His face was scattered with age spots and wrinkles.

"Fuck you and yo dead ass friends. Bitch." Catora huffed in between breaths before spitting out blood onto the floor. His tooth was cracked inside his mouth as he briefly ran his tongue over it.

"Bring the bucket." Victor demanded. One of the guys dragged over a solid blue bucket then two of them dragged Cato's body as he put up a fight. Each guy held his arms back as one held his head forward. As Cato struggled to get out of their grips, their heads snapped towards the window on the door where a pair of blue eyes from one of the officers was staring back at them. The officer's footsteps could be heard fading away as he ignored the situation going on in the closet.

"You're my bitch from here on out. Do you understand monkey?"

"Fuck you hunky." Victor forced Cato's head into the bucket of icy cold water while spitting harsh cursing words near his head and wishing all kinds of hateful slurs at him. Victor snatched his head up after about fifteen seconds and asked him again if he'd comply with being his bitch again. Cato spit at him causing Victor to send his elbow down into Cato's face and submerged his head in the bucket of water once again before he could catch his breath, this time longer than before. See Victor got a kick out of Cato fighting him back and it only aroused him. Victor was enjoying watching Cato struggle to breath and that's when he noticed his body go still.

"Don't die now. You owe me you piece of dirt." He let Catora's body flop to the floor before stomping on his chest causing his body to jerk up and water to leave his mouth and nose followed by snot mixed with blood from Victor's blows. Victor pulled his knife out near Cato's neck and laughed.