Kyrie Maddox
I caught myself looking over at Sianni every so often as we made our way back to the house. The ride was quiet, and I knew I probably did too much by telling her to stay put and then showing up at the club myself. But honestly? I didn’t give a fuck.
Too much shit had happened lately for me not to be on edge.
For years, I moved how I wanted to move. I ain’t have to worry about nobody but myself. Then I got Sianni, and next thing I knew, I was fighting a whole nigga over her. A nigga who couldn’t take an ass whooping, so he had to pull out a gun instead.
Now the same bitch-ass nigga was back on the streets like he hadn’t shot me. Like he couldn’t have hit a major artery or something and killed my ass. Like Sianni hadn’t rushed to the house after I called her because she was out with Drayla when the shit happened.
Just thinking about it had my jaw tight.
I was pissed the fuck off, and the worst part was I couldn’t move how I wanted to. Not when I had people watching my every move. Not when cameras stayed in my face, and muthafuckas were waiting for me to fuck up so they could paint me as the problem again.
One wrong move could cost me everything. My career, endorsements, the life I’d worked my ass off to build.
I glanced over at Sianni and caught her staring out the window. Damn, shawty was beautiful as hell.
“Aye, ma, you good?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m straight,” she replied without looking at me.
I shook my head.
“Nawl, you not. You doing that thing you do.”
She finally turned and looked at me.
“What thing?”
“Giving them little short-ass answers.”
That earned me a small eye roll.
“I’m just ready to go home so I can take a shower and go to bed.”
I studied her for a second before nodding.
“Bet.”
But I knew my wife. And something was still bothering her.
The rest of the ride stayed quiet for a minute before I looked over at her again.
“Talk to me.”
She sighed.
“Kyrie.”
“Nawl. ’Cause something else happened.”
Her eyes slid toward me.
“What makes you think that?”
I let out a short laugh.
“’Cause I know you.”
She sucked her teeth and looked back out the window. For a second, I thought she was gon’ keep dodging the question. Then, she finally spoke.
“I just didn’t like how everybody was looking at me.”
My grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“What you mean?”
“It felt like people kept staring. Taking pictures and whispering.”
I frowned.
“The same people from earlier?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer didn’t sit right with me at all. I glanced over at her again.
“You should’ve called me sooner.”
“Kyrie, I was fine.”
“That’s not the point.”
She rolled her eyes. “See. This is what I’m talking about.”
“What?”
“You always go from zero to a hundred.”
I shook my head. “And you always wait ’til the last minute to tell me shit.”
“Because you overreact.”
“I don’t overreact.”
She stared at me, and I stared right back. A few seconds later, she started laughing.
“Boy, yes you do.”
“Nawl. I react appropriately.”
That earned me another eye roll. But at least she wasn’t sitting there looking stressed anymore.
A few minutes later, I pulled into the driveway and shut the engine off. The second I got out, I walked around to Sianni’s side before she could open the door.
She looked up at me.
“Kyrie.”
“What?”
“I know how to open the door.”
“Congratulations.”
She rolled her eyes while sliding out of the truck. I waited until both her feet hit the ground before shutting the door and reaching for her hand.
“You be doing too much.”
“Not really.”
That earned me another eye roll.
Truth was, if anything, I felt like I wasn’t doing enough. Not after Jamal got out. Not after somebody had sent her a weird-ass note in the club. Not after seeing how uncomfortable she looked tonight.
The second we stepped inside, I locked the door behind us and waited until she started toward the stairs.
“I’m finna take a shower,” she said.
“Aight.”
I stood there watching her walk upstairs and damn near forgot what the fuck I was doing. Shawty was fine as hell, and being her husband still felt crazy sometimes.
Shaking my head, I headed toward the kitchen.
The fridge was stocked with smoothies, so I grabbed one, twisted the cap off, and took a long pull while leaning against the counter.
The house was quiet, and I hated sitting around like this. Between rehab, doctor’s appointments, and everybody telling me to take it easy, I felt like a damn caged animal. Every day was the same shit. Wake up, rehab. Come home and repeat.
Man, fuck that. I was ready to get back on the field. Ready to get back in my element and ready to remind every nigga who thought I was finished exactly who the fuck I was.
Cause one thing about me, I never stayed down for long. I took another pull from the smoothie and set the bottle down on the counter.
As I continued to stand in the kitchen, letting my mind wander as it did most of the time, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
I glanced up and instantly forgot what the fuck I was thinking about. Sianni had changed into one of my shirts, and her hair was pulled back away from her face.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
I shrugged.
“’Cause you fine.”
She rolled her eyes.
“That’s all you ever say.”
“’Cause that’s all I ever think.”
A smile tugged at her lips despite how hard she tried to fight it. And just like that, some of the tension on my shoulders eased.
“You are so fucking corny, you know that?” she asked, laughing.
“I’m corny, yet you still riding my dick, and you still wearing my shit,” I replied with a smirk.
“Okay, Kyrie.” She rolled her eyes, still smiling as she fully walked into the kitchen.
“It’s always ‘okay, Kyrie’.” I smirked.
She rolled her eyes again and then grabbed my smoothie from the counter. Took it to the head and drank the rest of my shit.
“Really, shorty?” I asked.
“What?”
“You gon’ really drink my smoothie?”
“You’ll be alright. You got more in the fridge,” she replied, setting the bottle in the sink.
I sucked my teeth and walked over to the fridge.
“See, this why I can't have shit.”
“Oh, please.”
“Nawl, I'm serious. Every time I buy something, your ass claim it.”
She laughed.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
I grabbed another smoothie and pointed the bottle at her.
“You just drank my whole shit.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Just know if I start eating your snacks, don't say shit.”
That made her smile instantly disappear.
“Don't play with me.”
A laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
“See? That's exactly what the fuck I'm talking about.”
“Kyrie.”
“I'm just saying.”
She shook her head, trying not to smile, and I couldn't even lie, seeing her like this made me feel better.
A few minutes ago, shawty was sitting in that truck looking stressed out. Now, she was standing in the kitchen, arguing over a damn smoothie.
I headed into the living room with my smoothie in hand, and Sianni behind me. By the time I dropped onto the couch, shawty had kicked her shoes off and curled up on the opposite end.
The TV was on, but neither of us was paying attention to it. I rubbed my hand over my beard before leaning back against the couch.
“You know what got me fucked up?”
She looked over at me.
“What?”
I stared down at the bottle in my hand before answering.
“The fact that nigga really out.”
The smile she’d been wearing disappeared.
“Kyrie.”
“Nawl, I’m serious.”
I shook my head.
“That shit don’t even feel real.”
She stared at me for a moment, her hands folded in her lap before she finally spoke.
“I know.”
I let out a dry laugh and shook my head.
“Nawl, you don’t.”
Her eyebrows pulled together.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means everybody keeps telling me they understand, but they don’t.”
I leaned forward and rested my forearms on my knees.
“That nigga shot me, Sianni.”
The room went quiet.
“I know.”
“He could’ve killed me.”
My voice was calm, but the grip I had on the bottle in my hand said otherwise.
“He could’ve killed me over some bullshit.”
I looked at her.
“And the crazy part? I keep thinking about all the shit that would’ve happened if he did.”
“Kyrie…”
“I’m serious, Sianni.”
I laughed again, but there wasn’t anything funny about it.
“I keep thinking about you coming home and finding me laid out there if that nigga would’ve stayed, or worse, if he would’ve done something to you too.”
The look on her face softened instantly.
“Ever since then, I ain’t been looking at nothing the same.”
She didn’t say anything. She just listened.
“I know people think I’m doing too much. I know you think I’m paranoid and overprotective.”
I shrugged.
“Maybe I am.”
A small smile touched her lips.
“Maybe?”
“Aight, I am.”
That earned a soft laugh out of her. But mine faded almost as quickly as it came.
“That shit changed something in me, though.”
I stared down at the bottle in my hand.
“’Cause one minute I was good, and the next I was lying on the ground bleeding.”
The memory alone made my jaw tighten.
“And now that nigga back outside like none of that shit happened.”
Before I could say anything else, I felt Sianni’s hand slide over mine. My eyes dropped to her fingers. Then I looked at her.
For a second, neither of us said anything. We didn’t have to. Cause somehow, shawty knew exactly what to do when my head was fucked up.
Her thumb brushed across the back of my hand.
“You know what your problem is?” she asked softly.
I looked over at her.
“What?”
“You keep trying to carry everything by yourself.”
A laugh left me.
“Here we go.”
“I’m serious.” She shifted closer until her shoulder brushed mine.
“You act like you gotta protect everybody all the time.”
I looked down at our hands.
“Somebody got to.”
“Kyrie.” The way she said my name made me look at her. “You don’t have to do everything alone.”
For a second, I just stared at her. Then I shook my head.
“Too late for that.”
A smile tugged at her lips.
“No, it isn’t.”
Before I could argue with her, she leaned over and rested her head against my shoulder. The room went quiet again, but this time I didn’t mind. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her closer. For the first time all day, my mind wasn’t racing.
For a second, neither of us said anything. Then, something crossed my mind.
“Aye”
“Hm?”
I looked over at her.
“What was that phone call about?”
She frowned. “What phone call?”
“The one you made before all that shit happened.”
Her eyebrows pulled together for a second before realization flashed across her face.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “I forgot all about that.”
“Clearly.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Drayla and I were talking about taking a trip.”
“A trip?”
She nodded.
“Nothing crazy. Just a girls’ trip.”
I leaned back against the couch.
“And that's what you called me for?”
“Yeah. I was trying to see how you'd feel about it.”
I stared down at her for a second. Truth was, before everything happened, I probably would've told her to do whatever she wanted.
But now? Now was different. Not because I didn't trust her. I trusted Sianni. It was everybody else I didn't trust.
“Where y'all trying to go?”
“I don't know. We hadn't figured that part out yet.”
I nodded slowly.
“You should go.”
That got her attention.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
She blinked. “Kyrie, are you okay?”
I laughed. “Why everybody keep asking me that shit?”
“Because I thought you were about to tell me no.”
“Nawl.”
I rubbed my jaw. “If that's what you wanna do, then do it.”
The smile that spread across her face hit me harder than it should've.
“But if you go, security going.”
That smile instantly faded.
“Security?”
“Yes.”
“Kyrie.”
“I'm dead serious.”
“Kyrie.”
“Sianni.”
She stared at me, and I stared right back. A few seconds later, she sucked her teeth.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet, you still married me.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Unfortunately.”
A grin pulled at my mouth. “Whatever. My answer is still yes.”
“But I don’t want to go anymore,” she replied. “Taking security with me would take all the fun out of it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What kind of fun you trying to have?”
That answer had my mind wandering immediately.
“Just girls' fun.” She shrugged with a smirk.
“Uh-huh.” I nodded slowly. “Let me find out you over there giving some other nigga attention.”
“Boy, whatever.” She waved me off.
“Ain’t no damn whatever.” I pointed at her. “You gon’ fuck around and get that nigga hurt playing with me, Sianni.”
She stared at me for a second before shaking her head.
“Kyrie, do you realize you the only person thinking like that?”
“And have you looked at yourself?” I shot back. “Shit, you got niggas out here doing dumb shit, trying to get your attention, and got me wanting to put hands on people.”
“With that situation, you could’ve walked away,” she replied. “It was just words. It ain’t like he was really gonna do anything.”
I sucked my teeth.
“That's what you think.”
“My mama always said a nigga with words ain't gon' do nothing but talk.”
“And my pops always said a nigga with words is the most dangerous motherfucker you'll ever meet.”
She looked at me for a second, probably trying to figure out if I was serious, and I was.
As much as my pops got on my damn nerves, every now and then he'd say some shit that stuck with me. Half the time, he was on my ass about football, pushing me harder than I wanted to be pushed. But when it came to reading people? The man knew what the fuck he was talking about.
Cause the loudest nigga in the room wasn't always the one you had to worry about.
Sometimes it was the one smiling in your face while waiting for the right moment to make a move.