Page 80 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

His eyes widened just enough.

“You…”

His voice almost disappeared.

“…y'all family.”

I gave him a slow nod.

“Now you catching on.”

Jamal took another step backward.

“I don't want no trouble.”

I let out a low chuckle.

“That's funny.”

“What?”

“’Cause that's the same thing Kyrie wanted.”

Jamal's eyes darted between me and Zeek before he threw his hands up.

“Look, bruh… I don't know what y'all think finna happen out here, but I ain't looking for no problems.”

“No?” I asked, my voice even.

He shook his head.

“Nawl, I ain't on that.”

A corner of my mouth twitched.

“Funny.”

His forehead creased.

“’Cause that's the same shit my cousin wasn't looking for.”

There was a beat of silence. The confidence he’d worn when he first walked out of that apartment was long gone.

“I… I ain't mean for that shit to happen.”

Zeek sucked his teeth.

“Here we go.”

“I'm serious,” Jamal rushed out. “That shit got outta hand.”

“Outta hand?” Zeek snapped. “Nigga, you pulled a gun.”

“He came at me first!”

“So, the fuck what?” Zeek took a step toward him. “You still had a choice.”

I lifted my hand just enough to stop Zeek from saying anything else. He looked at me, then backed off.