Page 32 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

A smirk tugged at my mouth.

“So?”

“So don’t go out here doing no dumb shit.”

“Dumb?” I scoffed. “That nigga shot me.”

“I know what he did.”

“Nawl…” I stepped closer until we were damn near chest to chest. “I don’t think you do. That nigga ain’t just shoot me. He could’ve left my wife a widow before we even got the chance to enjoy being married.”

My jaw tightened.

“He could’ve made my baby grow up never knowing who the fuck his daddy was.”

Silence settled between us. Marvin rubbed his beard, then let out a slow breath.

“I get it, cuz.”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

He held my stare for a second before speaking again.

“But if we handle this, we handle it smart. The last thing Sianni needs while she’s carrying yo’ seed is to be visiting yo’ ass behind bars, or worse.”

I looked away, dragging my hand over my bread. Every part of me wanted Jamal to feel everything I’d felt that day. The pain, the fear, and the anger. But Marvin wasn’t wrong. For the first time in my life, I had more to lose than just myself. I had a whole fucking family.

“I guess, man.” I stepped back, shaking my head. “What you got in mind?”

Marvin nodded. “You let me and Zeek handle this shit. You stay in the background.”

He pointed at me for emphasis.

“’Cause the second them blog niggas catch wind that you had anything to do with it, they gon’ be on your ass. Then, all this shit gon’ come back and haunt you.”

I dragged a hand over my face and let out a slow breath.

As much as I hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong. The last thing I needed was my name splashed across every sports blog with headlines painting me as some hotheaded athlete out here handling business in the streets.

“Aight,” I muttered.

“Good.” Marvin nodded. “I’m finna go grab Zeek and take him back to my spot. Once we get there, I need you to disguise yourself the best way you can and slide through.”

I held his stare for a second before giving him a nod.

“Aight.”

We dapped each other up, and he headed to his truck. Once he pulled off, I turned and walked back into the gym.

The second I wrapped my hands around the barbell, I started pushing weights. One rep at a time.

The steel clanged against steel as every ounce of anger, frustration, and helplessness burned through my muscles. Sweat rolled down my face before I welcomed it. Right now, this was the only thing keeping me from something I’d regret.

✦ ✦

The front door clicked just as I racked the weight. I sat up on the bench, grabbed the towel draped around my neck, and wiped the sweat from my face before making my way toward the hallway.