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I parked and went ahead and walked inside. There was a hostess standing up front, who greeted me, and before I could tell her why I was here, my name was called across the room.

“Wolf!” that was Jamal calling my name.

I let the hostess know that I was here for him, and she smiled, telling me to enjoy. Like I haven’t seen this nigga in ages, I walked over to him cheesing. He was in the back, where all the pool tables were. A few men were standing around him. Jamal had a pool stick in his hand, but once I was close enough, he lowered it, leaning it against the pool table.

We embraced each other in a brotherly hug. I was standing in front of a nigga that was just as big as me. He looked to be in the best shape of his life. If he wasn’t still having minor problems with his knee, the league could have his ass on the field this Sunday. He was solid. He looked healthy too.

“Man, cut this fuckin hair off, and go get on the football field. The Dolphins not looking too good. We could use a wide receiver. You look good nigga!” Jamal said the same thing to me that I had been thinking about him.

He stood with his hands at his hips, looking at me. He was smiling big, showing all thirty-two teeth. The waves in his hair was sick. The brown suit he had on this afternoon fit him in a way as if it was tailored specifically for him. He was covered, but you could see the tattoos on his hands. If he was in a short-sleeved shirt like me, you would be able to see the full-sleeved tattoos that he had. We were the same height, and damn near the same size. Jamal had light skin. I remember in high school, the girls used to call him red.

“I don’t even think I can save the Dolphins. What’s up, main man? You look good too,” I replied, having to reach my hand in again for another pound.

Like a proud friend, he took me around, introducing me to the men that were standing around. Because I haven’t been to his spot in a little minute, he led the way, giving me a tour, showing me some of the upgrades.

The sports bar had two levels, so we walked the bottom first, and then he took me upstairs. Once we made it upstairs, he showed me the VIP rooms. VIP rooms were usually for birthday parties or whenever big games were going on. It was Thursday afternoon, so there wasn’t anyone in the VIP room.

There were high top tables in here, so that’s where Jamal and I sat. He spoke into the radio to one of the workers, telling them to bring up some shots for us, wings, and fries. Even though I’d just finished eating with my mom, I wasn’t going to turn down any food. I was a big dude that could eat any time of the day.

“It looks good in here, man. I’m proud of you. I feel bad that I’m not always able to pull up on you and check out all the shit that you have going on. I’m running two stores, and that shit takes up all my time,” I expressed, and he waved me off, not worried about it.

“Wolf, you hustle the same way I hustle. I’m not at odds with you because of that. Same way you haven’t been able to pull up on me is the same way that I haven’t been able to pull up on you. We ain’t teenagers no more. We don’t have all this free time on our hands anymore. We out here hustling, making money. We ain’t ever gotta be apologetic for that. My lil man turning one next month though. Wifey throwing him a big ass party. Ain’t doing shit but wasting my money, throwing him a party that his lil ass not going to remember. She got somebody working on the invitations, so whenever I get them, I’ll send one to you. Pull up. I know the kids, and wifey want to see you,” he responded.

Jamal had three children. All boys. All boys that he wanted to play football too. He started training them early. Two of his boys, which were ages seven and six, he’s been training them since they were babies. They already played little league football, and even though they were so young, they were already proving to have their father’s blood running through their bodies.

“Yeah, send me the invite man. You know I’ll pull up,” I told him.

“What’s been going on with you? Man, what’s new?” he wanted to know.

“Shit, I don’t even know where the fuck to start. Emaye fucked around and went through my pops phone. Turns out that nigga has a fourteen-year-old son that none of us knew about. He got a baby girl that should be here any day now. Emaye found out about that shit and tried to kill his ass. Shot his ass up five times,” I expressed. When I said that to him, he looked at me like I was crazy and then laughed right in my face.

“Nigga, you bullshitting me! I don’t believe that shit for a second. Your mom would never do no shit like that. She too innocent. I don’t believe it,” he said.

If I wasn’t there to witness the shit happen and one of my brothers called me to tell me what went down, I wouldn’t have believed it either.

“God strike me down right now if I’m lying,” I told him so that he could see how serious I was being.

“Damn. What the fuck! That’s crazy. A fourteen-year-old son? A daughter on the way? Shit. She going to leave him?” he asked the million-dollar question. That was the same question Deja asked me when I shared the story with her.

“Yeah man. She done. She staying with Kingston for a little bit. I took her to the house earlier because she said that she needed to pick some things up. Nigga she get in the car, holding this thick ass folder. I asked her what was inside, and she told me that it was all kinds of documents and paperwork. She been putting money in different accounts for years. She said she had a feeling a day would come where she had to leave his ass. I asked her what she was sitting on, and she told me millions. Bruh, she good. She took care of business on the backend,” I let him know.

“And that’s why you can never underestimate a woman. You know I’m no saint. I did my dirt in my marriage. When I signed that contract with the NFL years ago, I swore that I wasn’t going to be another statistic out here. I didn’t want to be like the athletes before me that go around cheating on their wives, especially since me and Morgan have been through so much together. I been in love with that girl since we’ve been in high school. She stayed down. It was a whole different world out there once I got in the NFL. Pussy all in my face. Beautiful women in all shapes and sizes. I fell for the bait. Temptation was a motha fucka, and I folded,” he vented. I knew these stories already, but I still sat back, kept quiet, allowed him to vent as if this was my first time hearing it.

“She forgave that shit though. It wasn’t until after the injury that I felt like she was done with me for good. You know the mental state that I was in. I was fucked up. Nigga, I lost my dream career. I started treating my wife poorly. I was neglecting my kids too. After surgery, all I wanted to do was drink. I started smoking weed too. Fucked around and healed and started cheating again. That’s why I say to never underestimate a woman because I saw a side of my wife that I never knew existed. Nigga, she was ready to take my fuckin kids away from me. Cleared out different accounts and even fucked up a few of my cars too. She had every right to crash out like that though. I should have never handled her the way that I did,” he vented.

I was just glad the nigga could be man enough to admit that he dropped the ball. These days, niggas liked to have a bunch of excuses as to why they cheated. Jamal didn’t give any, so that was commendable.

“Other than that, what else you got going on? You hitting something? You might not be in a relationship, but I know you out here fuckin something. What’s good nigga?” he asked.

I laughed at his question and then a smile appeared on my face. I wasn’t sure if I was pussy whipped or if it was because I really did love this girl, but I felt like I sat here looking goofy as fuck.

“I wouldn’t call it just hitting it. It’s deeper than that. Nigga, I got a whole girlfriend now,” I responded.

I said that as a few of the workers walked in. One held a tray that housed a couple of shot glasses for us. The other worker had another tray that held the wings and fries that Jamal ordered. He sat a ten piece in front of me with fries, and the same thing in front of Jamal. We both thanked them for everything, and then they left the room, leaving just the two of us inside.

“A girlfriend? How the hell a hustling ass nigga like you even have the time for a relationship? You got a picture of her? I gotta see what she look like,” he cracked, picking up a couple of the fries, and dumping them into the small cup of ketchup.

I laughed at what he said and then bowed my head so that I could say a quick prayer. Once I finished praying over the food, I picked one of the wings up, and this was easily one of the best wings that I’ve ever had in my life. It was seasoned to perfection and nice and crispy, just like I liked my wings.