3. Givens
GIVENS
“Daddy?” Faylin called my name from the door of my room. I stopped doing my pushups and stared at her. “I need a solid.”
“Always,” I said, then went back to working out. Whatever my baby needed, I was going to make it happen. There wasn’t a force on this earth strong enough to stop me. “What do you need me to do?”
“I need in on Mercy DeCorte’s camp today,” Faylin announced, and again I stopped moving.
“Faylin, didn’t you tell that woman you would see her today?” I asked, and she nodded. “Then why do you need an in?”
“I’m not signed up,” she replied, and I grunted. “Mama told me no, but I want to go. That was the reason we got into it yesterday. Can't you pull some strings? She plays for the Queens now. I know Pyrite can work something out.”
“That ain’t how it works.” I stood and wiped my hands over my face.
Faylin didn’t ask me for shit often, which was a blessing.
At fourteen, she could be maxing out a card regularly or trying to run behind some little nigga, but she wasn’t.
Her focus was on playing ball, which her mama hated, but she was good as fuck, and I wasn’t staying that just because she’s my daughter.
Faylin had court vision, dedication, and drive.
Shit, to be honest, she was better than me when I was her age.
“Alright,” she said, nodding. Her eyes filled with tears, and I ran my tongue over my teeth to keep my cool. My baby was disappointed, and that shit wasn’t going to work. “I’ll be out back practicing.” She left my doorframe, and I shook my head.
“I need a solid,” I said as soon as Pyrite answered the phone. I was moving through the house, trying to get my shit together and figure out how to make shit shake for Faylin. Little mama had too much faith in her pop at times.
“What’s the word?” Pyrite said.
“That camp that Mercy is holding. Where is it?” I questioned as I grabbed my keys from the table. “Faylin wants in.”
“It’s full,” Pyrite replied, and I shrugged. That shit didn’t mean anything to me. I’d buy the spot of every child there, and my baby would only be trained by Mercy fucking around with me.
“Location, Pyrite,” I said. “I don’t got time for nothing else.”
“Give me a second,” Pyrite replied, and then the line went silent. A few seconds later, he came back but with more noise in the background. “It’s at the center, starts at nine.”
“Bet.” I knocked on the door to get Faylin’s attention. “I appreciate it.”
“Don’t make me regret it,” Pyrite replied. “Mercy DeCorte ain’t as nice as folks think she is.”
“Am I supposed to be scared?” I laughed.
“Shit, I would be if I were you,” He replied, then hung up.
I put my phone in my pocket and opened the door for Faylin. Even though she’d only been outside for a good fifteen minutes, she’d managed to work up a sweat. I closed the door behind us, and without saying anything, we headed to the garage to leave.
The drive to the gym was quiet. I knew that Faylin was nervous as fuck about this by the way she was acting.
She’d followed Mercy’s career since college, and I couldn’t lie; I was right there with her.
Mercy was cold as fuck on the court and had brought a lot of attention to the game over the years.
I parked in my assigned spot; we got out, and I popped the trunk.
Faylin was indeed my child; she kept a gym bag in the car and was always down to play ball.
She grabbed her bag, and I grabbed mine, and we headed into the center.
The court was on the opposite side of the center, but the walk was quick because we were both in our own little world.
“Daddy, what if I don’t make the team?” Faylin asked as we stepped into the gym. I expected it to be empty, but to my surprise, Mercy was already here putting in work.
“Aint no way you don’t,” I replied, shaking my head. “You’ve been putting in the work, and it shows. Now all you gotta do is prove it.” I threw my arm around her shoulder and guided her to the court. “I’ll be in the workout room.”
“Alright.” Faylin sat in one of the chairs and switched her shoes. I stood back, watching her get ready. If Faylin wanted to be on this court, she had to prove by her talent that she deserved to be here. My name wouldn’t do shit for her in this game; if anything, it would hinder her.
I made eye contact with Mercy and gave her a slight nod.
Her eyes went from me to Faylin, and I couldn’t help but linger on her for a little while.
She was fine as fuck, skin the color of chocolate that she kept well hydrated.
Full lips, round nose, high cheekbones, dark, expressive eyes, and a head full of curly hair.
Her body was on point; part of me thought it was because she was a pro athlete, but I could also tell it was natural.
“I keep telling you she is dangerous, and you are ignoring the fuck outta me,” Pyrite said, coming to stand next to me. I chuckled but didn’t say shit. “You are letting them big ass eyes fool you into thinking she a regular chick, and she ain't.”
“You sound like you know from personal experience.” I cut my eyes to him and grilled him.
“Let me find out you got your eyes on Mercy DeCorte.” I ran my tongue over my teeth and nodded.
“Yeah, let me find out, Pyrite, and see how much I turn this organization out.” I patted him on the chest and then walked away, not waiting for him to question what I was saying or where my head was because I didn’t even know right now.
“Only professionally,” Pyrite said, coming up next to me. He kept up with my stride because of his height. “And it ain't from me not trying, but Mercy don’t fuck with niggas like that.”
“She gay?” I questioned.
“Nah,” he answered with a laugh. “She was with that nigga Ben Harden in college, and he fucked her over. Nobody knows the details, and the fact that he is still breathing only means she didn’t spazz on him too bad.”
“He a weak nigga,” I grunted. Ben and I had crossed paths a few times in the past. He was a nigga that was used to dealing with bitches and niggas a certain way.
He had a habit of using his hands when he didn’t like the answer to a question, and I wondered if he’d touched Mercy.
I ran my hand over my mouth and nodded; yeah, that nigga was going to see me soon because I needed the answer.
“Why are you looking like that?” Pyrite questioned, and I looked over at him and lifted my brow.
“Don’t play dumb, nigga, what are you plotting?
” To fuck with him, I smiled and shook my head instead of answering him.
Pyrite sighed and ran his hand over his waves.
“Am I going to need the lawyers on speed dial?”
“Nah.” I patted him on the shoulder before walking away. “I move smarter now.”
“Givens, don’t be stupid, nigga!”
“Never that!” I laughed. “I’ma behave! Trust the process, nigga!”
A few hours later, I was walking into the front door of Aceyn ‘Hood’ Bowlin with a bag of food ready for some laughs. Our friendship had lasted decades, and Hood was one of the few niggas that I never had to question or wonder about his loyalty.
“Where you at?” I yelled as I pushed the door closed and then kicked off my shoes. Hood was a big-ass germophobe, and I didn’t have time to hear his mouth about walking around his house with my shoes on. “Hood!”
“Kitchen!” he called out, and I nodded.
I made my way to the kitchen and chuckled. This nigga was in here looking lost as fuck, standing next to the stove with a spoon in one hand and a bowl in the other.
“The fuck you trying to do?” I set the bag on the island and sat down. “I know you're not trying to cook.”
“I thought I could make some muffins,” he chuckled, and I shook my head. “This shit is complicated.”
I thumped the box in front of me and chuckled. “Nigga, it’s box muffins, you need like four things, and that’s it. How the fuck is it complicated?”
“No fucking clue,” he said as he put the spoon and bowl down. “I can figure out ligaments and muscles with no problem. But the second you start adding food to the shit, I can’t understand a damn thing.”
“Spent all that money on an education, and yo ass can’t even make muffins.” I picked up the box and threw it at him. “Let me call Pyrite and tell him you been hustling him all these years.”
“It ain’t a player on the team that feels that way,” Hood replied with a shrug. I was fronting hard as hell, and we both knew it. Hood was good as fuck, and the team was lucky to have him as the sports therapist. We stayed healthy and in a good space because of Hood. “Now, what the fuck you want?”
“I can’t come and kick it with my boy?” I laughed.
“Fuck nah,” Hood denied as he cleaned up. “Yo ass want something.”
“How you know?” I questioned and crossed my arms over my chest.
“You brought food and ain’t denied you want something.
” Hood wiped down the countertop and laughed.
“If you were on some just kick it shit, you would’ve called first to make sure I wasn’t entertaining nobody.
You took the chance of dealing with people, and you ain’t friendly. That means you want something.”
I laughed and wiped my hand over my face. Hood knew me better than most people, so I wasn’t about to deny shit. “I want the info on Mercy DeCorte.”
“Nope,” Hood said, shaking his head. “Let that one go, Givens. That ain’t your cup of tea.”
“How the fuck you know?” I laughed. The fact that Hood was telling me no had me intrigued as fuck. “Huh, Hood? You fucking with her?”
“Shit, nah,” he laughed. “I like my damn life too much to fuck around with Mercy.”
“You and Pyrite acting like the girl is a killer or something,” I grunted. “He warned me about her earlier today at the center, and now you sayin’ no.” I sat back and shook my head. “What the fuck is up with y’all?”
“Take our word for it then, nigga,” Hood said as he grilled me. “If both me and Pyrite are saying stay the fuck away, that should tell you something. He owns the team; I make sure y’all stay healthy. That means we know shit you don’t.”
“She crazy?” I lifted my brow and smiled. Hood stared at me for a few seconds without blinking. “Like crazy-crazy or just a little crazy, and niggas not used to it?”
“She’s a fuckin’ lunatic,” Hood grunted. He grabbed the bag I’d sat down earlier and started pulling food out. “Like, been to the asylum a few times and probably should stay there. Her entire family is off.”
“I’m gonna fall in love with her then,” I laughed and nodded.
“Givens, leave that girl alone,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s calmed down a lot, and if you step into her life and fuck it up, she will probably kill you.”
“She not about that life,” I laughed as I stood. “And it ain't even like that.”
“You just said you were going to fall in love with her, nigga!”
“I’m just fucking with you.” I shook my head. “Honestly, I was just checking on her cuz Faylin wants on her youth team. She started her camp today.”
“That’s it?” his face twisted like he didn’t believe me, and I laughed. “Legit, Givens, don’t start anything with that girl if you not trying to lock her down. Between her and her family, they’ll hunt your yellow ass down and kill you.”
“Nigga, you are being dramatic!” I laughed as I left the kitchen. Hood knew me well enough to know that all this talk wasn’t doing nothing but making me want her ass more. I might have said I was interested because of Faylin, but in reality, I wanted Mercy DeCorte’s fine ass for myself.