9. Keyshawn
Eight years later
“Introducing… the defending light heavyweight champion of the world… Krash Williams!” The announcer shouted into the microphone as the lights in the arena dimmed. My intro song played as my entourage and I stepped out and headed down the path to the ring.
The gold and black shorts stopped just above my knees. My black gloves with gold wrist support were light but packed a punch. My mouth guard was designed to look like a mouth full of diamonds. Over the past eight years, I’d created a name for myself in the boxing streets. I was undefeated. I’d never been knocked down since I’d transitioned into the professional world of boxing. These niggas couldn’t stand a chance against me.
I stopped at the ring and turned toward the crowd. Celebrities sat in the first two rows, and I made sure to dap a couple of them up.
“Keep your head in the game, Krash.” Coach Larry began his speech. Every fight consisted of him reminding me of who I was, what my purpose was, and my opponent’s strengths.
Carlos Gonzalez was on a mission to take the crown from me tonight. He was a young Hispanic man from California. He had a decent stat sheet, but he wasn’t shit compared to me. He was a few inches shorter than my six-feet three-inch height, so I also had that advantage on him as well.
Once the match formalities were over, we touched gloves, and they rang the bell to signal the first round. He danced on his toes around the ring as I kept my face protected with my gloved hands.
“Are you going to dance like you auditioning for a part on Broadway, or are we going to fight like grown men?” I asked with the mouthpiece still in my mouth.
Gonzalez chuckled. “You want to rush your ultimate demise?”
“Not happening tonight.”
One thing about being on top was that half the world always prayed for my downfall. None of my matches never made it to the final round. They always ended with a knockout in the first four rounds—always. They wanted to see me fall from grace because of my attitude in the media.
My manager and best friend, Gary, had been pissed over the last couple years because I always found myself in the tabloids with a new scandal. I think the last headline read something along the lines of: Light Heavyweight Champion Krash Williams Faces Another Paternity Suit.
I was a man who loved to be satisfied by beautiful women. I loved every shade of black and loved every size as well. No matter the size, shape, or color, if she had a pretty face and clean pussy, she was getting the Krash Experience.
Because of the number of commas in my bank account, women often tried to trap me with a baby. Unfortunately for them, I was smarter than I appeared. I never nutted in a bitch, no matter how drunk I was. I also always used a condom. There was no way I’d slip up and bring a child into the world I wasn’t ready to take care of. One thing I’d learned from my parents was to not become one if I wasn’t ready for all that came with a child.
Tired of the back and forth with Gonzalez, I stepped forward and allowed my hands to do the talking. Everyone knew my left hook was deadly. I stopped hearts with the power in my punch. I had to register my hands as weapons. I was legally not allowed to get into altercations because of the damage my hands could do.
I stepped back and looked at the crowd. I made a gesture that said it was over before I returned my attention to Gonzalez. With a quick right jab and two left shots to the body, he staggered back into the ropes. The ref gave him a few seconds to steady his feet. Once his gloves were back up, I swayed until I found an opening and connected my left glove to his chin. His knees turned to noodles as he folded out on his back. His body twitched as his eyes darted around the ceiling.
The referee began the ten second countdown, but everyone knew it was over. The bell chimed, and the referee lifted my hand to signal I’d won. The crowd erupted with cheers as they pulled Gonzalez’s unconscious body out of the ring to get checked out by paramedics.
Boxing was a poor man’s sport as people often stated. Coming from a stable environment, most people wouldn’t choose to fight for their lives. I found solace in the ring because it allowed me the opportunity to release my pain, suffering, and grief out onto the opponent brave enough to get in the ring with me.
Press swarmed the ring as journalists and reporters all shouted questions at me. I smirked and raised my hands. “Hold on. I’ve got an exclusive announcement.”
The arena became quiet as everyone waited for what I had to say. I cleared my throat and crossed my arms over my chest. I’d had this announcement ready to go since I’d turned twenty-nine a few months ago, but I figured now would be the best time to make my reveal.
“I have been undefeated since I stepped into the professional world. Nobody is touching me in the ring. However, shit is about to change for all the young niggas ready to become the new face of boxing. I’m twenty-nine, and I plan to retire after my thirtieth birthday in January.”
The arena erupted in shock as everyone began to ask questions. Coach Larry stepped in with Gary, and they handled the press as I made my way back to my dressing room.
The club was packed, and my section was filled with the baddest bitches in Houston. After every victory, my crew and I would hit up the club and get a section. The best part was the club owners would give me 20 percent of all profits made when I hit the scene.
Half-naked women threw their ass in my direction, allowed me to pour shots down their throats, and all of them promised to give me the best ending ever.
Gary and his boys became my boys when Bernie left me. I got to know them well during the months Bernice and I transitioned before she moved. Blake, Gary, Deionte, and Nehemiah kept me afloat with their support and friendship. They helped me numb the pain. There were days I found myself in deep thought about how Bernice was doing, but we’d lost touch a year after she moved, and I never felt right asking her parents about her.
When Bernice left, Mr. and Mrs. James extended their love and support to me, but it didn’t feel right. They were her family, not mine. As a result, once I’d lost contact with her, I also distanced myself from her parents.
“The bitches are trying to get chose tonight,” Nehemiah stated as he smacked one of the women on their ass.
“Bro! If I didn’t get caught up with Nicole’s ass, I would take a couple of them home with me,” Blake added.
One thing about me was I brought all my homeboys to the top with me. They all had a job in my entourage. Blake and Nehemiah were big men, so they acted as my bodyguards. Gary was my manager and booked me at clubs and kept my schedule packed. Deionte was my social media manager.
I wasn’t a fan of social media because the platforms made everyone feel like their opinions were facts. These internet trolls got off on inciting hate and anger toward people. To protect my sanity, I removed myself from the equation. The only time I ever got on the apps were to watch dumb videos.
“Congratulations on your win tonight, Krash,” a woman said as she walked up to me. She wore a tight-fitting pink dress. Her hair flowed down her back in deep curls. Her makeup was bold, and her body was thick as fuck.
“Thank you, beautiful. What are you doing in my section?” I asked as I licked my lips and placed my hands on her hips.
She placed her hands on my chest and smiled. “I’m trying to let you take me back to your place.”
“My place, huh?”
“Yes. I want to…” She leaned up to my ear and whispered words I wouldn’t have been able to repeat if I wanted to.
“You got your papers?” I quizzed.
“Always. I’m a healthy hottie.”
“Type shit. What’s your name?”
“You can call me Lola.”
“Lola… I like that.”
“Lola and Krash got a cute ring to it, huh?”
“Something like that,” I replied.
“How long do you have to stay in the section?” she asked as she slid her hand under my shirt and rubbed my abs gently.
“We can head out right now. I don’t take women to my crib, so we can either go to yours or hit up a hotel. Your choice.”
“I’m cool with a hotel.”
“Got you.”
I looked around until I’d made eye contact with Gary. I gave him the look ,and he nodded. Once I’d spoken to my guys, I slipped out of the section and made my way to the all-black SUV in the back parking lot. The driver waited for me with his phone in his hand while he leaned against the front of the vehicle.
I was a millionaire with a chauffeur. My home was ducked off in the outskirts of Houston. I had a personal chef, a cleaning crew, and everything else at my disposal. I could eat cereal in a gold-plated bowl imported from China if I wanted to.
I had my own floor in the most expensive hotel in Houston. I had my own entrance into the hotel too. Wealth was power in America, and I had a lot of pull in the city I was born and survived in—because I couldn’t say I was raised by anyone.
Like always, I checked her most recent test results, pulled on the condom, and let her ride my dick like her rent was due. Lola’s ass moved like waves in the ocean. Her ass clapped with each thrust I put into her. She had a nigga ready to tap out by the suction on her pussy. I never double dipped, but she had a nigga ready to take her number. Once we’d both nutted, I cleaned us up, flushed the condom, and pulled my clothes back on.
“You can stay and order whatever you want from room service. Money is good. All I ask is you be out before checkout at eleven,” I explained. I pulled my shirt over my head and slid my hands through the sleeves.
“You don’t do cuddles?” she asked as she turned to lie on her stomach.
“Nah. Cuddling’s the first step to catching feelings. I can’t afford to catch feelings right now.”
“You’re almost thirty, Krash. Don’t you want to settle down and build a foundation for kids and a couple pets in the future?”
I scoffed. “No offense, but I ain’t trying to build shit with a bitch I met in the section of a club. That’s not the type of woman I see myself making babies with.”
These rap niggas had these club women thinking every rich nigga wanted a BBL baddie to settle down with. I’d seen too many rich men fall victim to the gold digger, child support gremlins. They wanted a rich man to pay them enough money in child support to sponsor a rich bitch lifestyle. That wasn’t my scene.
“None taken. I guess men in your tax bracket have to be selective with the women they let into their lives. Everyone might have a hidden agenda.”
“Exactly. My thing is, I just want to bust a nut. When I’m ready to settle down, I’ll put myself in situations where I know the type of woman I want to be with will be at.”
She nodded. “Well, thank you for tonight. You probably don’t do second times, but if you ever want to hit me up again, I’m just a text away.”
“Fa sho. Shoot me a DM with your number. I’ll have my manager keep an eye out for it.”
“You could literally save my number right now.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I smirked as I tossed her a head nod and made my way out of the hotel room.
I hadn’t been in a serious relationship since Bernice. She was the one that got away, and I didn’t have the energy or time to look for her replacement. Plus, the women loved an eligible bachelor. My fanbase was mostly women wanting to become the next Mrs. Krash Williams.
After my night out, I ordered an Uber for my driver and drove myself back to my crib. When I pulled into the stoned driveway of my mansion, my lips turned into a deep frown at the sight of my front door ajar. I called Gary immediately.
“Hello?” he answered on the second ring.
“Call the cops. I’m about to go to jail because niggas thought it was a smart idea to break into my house.”
“What? Krash, what the fuck happened?”
“I don’t know. I came back from the hotel, and my front door was open. I haven’t gone inside yet because I know if niggas still in my shit, I’m going to commit murder.”
“Don’t do that. I’m about to get the fellas, and we’re headed your way. Please don’t risk your career or freedom.”
“Man, Texas is a stand your ground state. If niggas broke into my shit, I have every right to defend me and my property. I’m going in.”
I hung up and left the car. I stomped up the large staircase to the front door. I pushed open the door and turned on the lights.
Devastation wrapped around me like a thick blanket. They’d ransacked my home. All my valuables were in the downstairs safe, so that was my first stop. Luckily, the safe was made of two-ton impenetrable steel, so all my important papers, jewelry, and keepsakes were untouched. Relief washed over me.
Where was my groundskeeper? Where was my butler? Why was my home unattended and accessible to be broken into? The only option was to install a new security system since the one I’d currently had didn’t do a good job.
“Krash!” Blake called out as he and the fellas entered my home.
I met them in the foyer as I crossed my hands. “They stole a couple paintings, clothes, a few watches, and shit like that. All my expensive shit was in the safe.”
“Do you know who did it?” Deionte asked.
I shook my head. “Nah. My security system was down. I need Gary and Blake to find me a new system by tomorrow. I need that shit installed immediately. I’m willing to pay whatever.”
“We’re on it,” Gary replied. “I’ll hit up some people to see what’s the top of the market company to go through.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you need us to do anything?” Nehemiah asked.
“I need y’all to call Steph to get the crew over here to clean up my home. I’m finna take a shower and go to sleep.”
Without another word, I moved through the mansion to the main bedroom. My mood had turned to shit because I’d never expected someone would think to ever rob me, but even I was susceptible to crime. I knew when I woke up, I’d be ready to file my report and find the mothafuckas who thought they could steal from me.
Being a celebrity opened my life up to more dangers than living on the Northside of Houston did. The target on my back was huge, but I was never the type of nigga to let someone get the upper hand. My biggest fear was my father, and when he died, I became invincible.
Niggas better watch out for Krash, because I’m not the type of nigga to let anybody scare me.