Chapter 35 Ocean
OCEAN
I walked into the gym with Trace and Shade, the echo of our sneakers against the polished hardwood flooding my eardrums. Indoor gym, mid-afternoon, nobody else here but us...it was the perfect break from everything.
Trace was off duty for the day, which meant we could actually play without him scanning for threats.
The vibe was light and easy.
“You sure you ready for this?” I teased my brother, dribbling the ball low to the ground.
Shade grinned. “Fool, you know I’m the pro here. Don’t get your feelings hurt when I dunk on you.”
“Feelings hurt? Nah. I got you, though. Just don’t cry when I take that shot.” I went up, let the ball swoosh through the net clean, and watched Shade roll his eyes in mock disbelief.
Trace laughed from the sideline, shaking his head.
We started shooting around, passing the ball back and forth.
“So, how’s Nyx? How’s my little niece or nephew?” I asked, letting Shade dribble past me.
He smiled, his whole face lighting up. “They’re good. Nyx is officially in all things baby mode. She’s picking names, nursery décor, clothes...anything she can think of, she’s doing it.”
I chuckled. “That’s good. You look happy man. Like, for real.”
“That’s because I am. I never thought I could have something like this, and now that I do, I can’t see my life without it.”
“I feel that. You got some once in lifetime shit going on.”
“Yeah, I do.” He laughed.
We kept shooting around. I was half-focused on the ball, half-focused on the entrance to the gym, when I noticed a familiar face stepping inside.
I froze mid-dribble. It was Melina’s husband, Waylon. Like always, he moved arrogant as hell, acting like the world owed him something. And of course, he headed my way.
“Yo…” I said low to Trace and Shade. “The nigga that’s walking over here, that’s Melina’s husband.”
Trace’s eyes followed mine. “Whose husband?”
“Melina. The chick that got her ass beat by Skye.”
“Oh.” Trace laughed. “Speaking of her...did you give her some time off?”
“Sure did. Permanently,” I replied.
“Damn.”
Shade shrugged, his eyes still on Waylon. “He looks like a bitch.”
A bitch is right, and he was about to get treated like one if he came at me wrong.
Waylon made his way in front of me, and I straightened, jaw tight, letting my gaze lock with his.
“What’s up?” I said.
“Ocean,” he replied, smooth and too confident. “I heard my wife got…let go.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. She did.”
His eyes flicked over me like he was measuring me up. “I just…I mean, I’m a little surprised. You know, considering everything.”
I didn’t flinch. Even though I had no clue what the fuck he was talking about. “Not sure what she told you, but she crossed the line and I can’t have that.”
The arrogance in his smile didn’t fade. “Really? You feel like she’s the one that crossed the line?”
“That’s what the fuck I said.”
I was getting irritated. He was talking in code, and I didn’t like that shit.
“Hmm, interesting. You fired her because she didn’t want to play along with you, and you’re trying to sell it to me like she was the problem. Classic.”
I narrowed my eyes.
My hands were itching to smash the ball into his fucking skull, but I didn’t.
“Sounds like she told you some bullshit.”
Shade and Trace stepped in, ready to snap if things escalated.
“I suggest you go find you something safe to do,” Shade said, shoving his hands into his basketball shorts. “Because this ain’t it.”
Waylon’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t make a move.
I studied him carefully, knowing exactly why my skin crawled around him.
This was the man that chose a woman and his pathetic gambling habit over his own flesh and blood.
My mind drifted back to the stories Ol’ School had told me about trying to save his son from himself.
How he’d warned him about going out and doing wild shit that could cost him his life.
How he’d paid off his gambling debts more times than he could count, and begged him to stop.
But his wife, Melina, didn’t want him to stop. She liked the thrill. The money.
Every time Ol’ School tried to cut him off, Melina played on his emotions, reminding him how important family was and how he shouldn’t turn his back on his son.
So he didn’t. He continued trying to help Waylon until he couldn’t help him anymore because bills were past due, and the money he had in his savings had been depleted.
Eventually, Ol’ School loss his home, and Waylon was nowhere to be found when he did.
So, my decision to use Melina to get back at Waylon was an easy one. But now? That shit was dead.
“You should leave,” I said simply.
No threats. Just cold, calm reality.
Waylon’s smirk faltered, and I could see the gears turning in his head. He’d thought this would be a confrontation. Thought he could intimidate me. But he had no idea what he was up against.
He backed off, mumbling something under his breath, but I didn’t care enough to try and make out what it was.
My eyes flicked back to Shade and Trace. “Fuck that nigga. Let’s play.”