CHAPTER 1
YOU GOT SERVED
“And just like that,Chase Andrews and the L.A. Flyers’ chance at the Super Bowl goes down in flames! You really hate to see it?—”
I hit the power button so fast that I almost jammed my damn finger, then returned to my ice bath just as my uncle turned agent, Niko, came rushing in the door of my home gym. It was still early as hell, but the nigga was ready for business, making me scoff at the smartphone that always seemed to be attached to his left hand.
“You good, Boss?” he asked with a knowing expression. I was pissed off and wanted to wallow in my grief alone, but of course he wasn’t having it.
“I’m too old for this shit Nik,” I grumbled, placing a hand over my face to shield my eyes from the bright overhead lights he insisted on turning on. Even after having a game the day before, I was still up at 5 a.m. for my usual early morning workout and recovery. That was just what the fuck I did. The words “day off” were not part of my vocabulary.
“Yeah, yeah. Talk that shit to someone else,” he jested, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of me with his arms crossed. “So, I know you’re not really trying to hear this, but the front office is already blowing me up.”
“You’re absolutely right,” I hissed, shooting a look deadly enough to take down an elephant. “I don’t want to fucking hear it.” The body wasn’t even cold yet, and those greedy bastards were already swarming. They couldn’t even let a nigga grieve my loss in peace.
“Chase, you know I’m down with you for whatever, but you have to make a choice. They want you, but they’ve already started considering other prospects, just in case. If you still want this, then we need to make it known.” He made sure to express the urgency without pushing, something only he could pull off.
“I was supposed to be done with this shit man!” I exhaled in frustration. The goal was always to be out of the league by 35, and I had already passed that by a year. After moving to the L.A. Flyers a few years back and basically rebuilding from the ground up, I promisedmycity a ring. I had two Super Bowl Championships under my belt, but bringing one home would cement my legacy forever.
This was supposed to be my year, but after an amazing season, we fell short in the third round of the playoffs. We could have had it all, but our green ass, rookie tight end let his nerves and butterfingers cost us the whole fucking thing. My jaw tightened, frustration making my body stiffen as the scene replayed in my mind all over again. Even though I knew it wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t help but blame myself.
“I know. And I completely understand if you wanna throw in the towel. You gave it a good run, and no one would fault you for putting your health and wellbeing first, C.” I glowered at him because it almost felt like he was calling me a hoe. He knew I would rather lay down and die than to justquit.
“Iwould fault me. I made a promise, Nik.” I closed my eyes and blew out an indignant breath. “I gotta do it.”
“Somehow, I knew you would say that,” he mused as a sly smile spread across his face. “I accepted the offer this morning.” He sat back and clasped his hands together giving me a knowing nod.
“Nigga! What?!” My eyes shot open so I could glare at him. This nigga just continued to smile at me with his slick ass.
“They gave me an offer that I couldn’t refuse. Forty mil for a one-year contract. If you said no, we were about to have to pull some Mike Lowry type shit, and I was gon’ suit up and play for you!” That gave me the first chuckle I had in the past week. Niko worked out with me from time to time, so he was built, but he had to be the most uncoordinated nigga I knew. He couldn’t catch a damn cold. He was also the smartest nigga I knew, and that’s why he was out there making deals for forty million dollars before most people had even got out of bed and washed their ass.
“Aight then, Corleone,” I grumbled while lifting my body from the ice cold water. I quickly grabbed a towel and dried off. When I looked up, Niko was on his feet, staring me right in my face.
“On some real shit though, C. I knew you wouldn’t be able to go out on these terms. You gave your word, and I knew you plan to keep that shit. I know you, my nigga,” he stated with absolute confidence.
I rolled my eyes, giving him a playful push. “You don’t know me.”
He absolutely did, probably more than anyone. On paper, Niko was my uncle, but in reality, we were more like brothers. My freaky ass grandparents had him two years before my mom got pregnant with me at eighteen, so we grew up together. She was a single mom, forced to move back in with her parents when I was a toddler. It was me, her, Niko and my grandparents in one house. We didn’t have it all, but we definitely made it work.
Despite all of that, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to determine that I would do what the fuck I said I would. I was a nigga who didn’t break promises, not to anyone. I prided myself on being a man of my word. If I said I was going to bring my city a ring, I didn’t care if they had to wheel my ancient ass out onto the field—I wasn’t stopping until we got that fucking ring.
“You heard from Chanel goofy ass lately?” Like it was back inthe ice water, my body involuntarily shriveled up at the mention of her name. I was doing good in my bubble, keeping her blocked and ignoring all contact, but every once in a while, something happened that hit me right in the chest.
“Nah. I think shefinallygot the hint this time… at least I hope she did.” I shrugged and looked away. When they said forever don’t last, they had to be talking about our lovesick asses. We met when I was in my rookie season and she was a budding artist rising to fame from Youtube videos. After almost fifteen years of back and forth, I finally came to the realization that I couldn’t deal with her lifestyle and cut all ties. To say she didn’t take it well would be an understatement. She did everything from claiming a fake pregnancy, to flat out stalking my ass and tormenting me for almost a year.
I tried my best to be cool because I knew she had been through a lot, but her ass was pushing it. Chanel was beautiful, talented, wealthy, and had a magnetic personality, but under the surface she was more shit than sugar. Unfortunately, I had to learn that the hard way… over and over.
“Yeah, I hope so too. You should have listened to me and filed that VPO the first time she got out of line. As long as she stopped bothering you, then I guess it worked out,” he said, shaking his head in disapproval. He never liked Chanel, and I used to think that he was a little jealous of how close the two of us were, but once the rose-colored glasses came off, I saw the real. She was never good for me.
“Water under the bridge man.” I shook my head not wanting yet another lecture about a woman that I was no longer dealing with.
“So, now can we get you back out there? I know there’s gotta be at least one woman willing to put up with your crazy ass,” he said with a jovial smile.
“I’m cool,” I huffed, trying to dead the conversation knowing that once he started, he would never stop.
“Nah, man. There are women out there outside of the industry.There’s this shorty that works at my dentist’s office—cute as hell. She looks like a good God-fearing woman. Mama would love her!”
“Niko, I’mgood.” I rolled my eyes. The last time he tried to set me up was a double date we had back in college. The chick was a weirdo with glasses so gotdamn thick, that they could have doubled as a windshield on a fuckin’ Airbus. She tried giving me some aggressive ass head in the back of her Civic and damn near sliced my shit open with her braces.
