4. Offensive Scheme
Chapter 4
Offensive Scheme
Marcus
B ryce and I met each other at the front door.
We both planned on running this morning without having a conversation about it.
“Let’s hit it,” he said and opened the wooden front door.
I followed him outside and down the front steps.
We both broke out into a sprint.
Not being familiar with the area, I followed Bryce off the street onto a trail.
We both hit the first hill without any issue, picking up speed as needed.
Running gave me clarity as my mind fell back on my daughter.
I could tell she missed me last night listening to her side of our bedtime story.
She dozed off on me, but she was the reason I sacrificed.
Harley’s life will be better than mine.
To give her the life I envisioned, I needed to take Clark’s spot as wide receiver two.
Riding the bench wasn’t going to secure my daughter’s future.
Considering I planned on adding a wife and more children, my expenses are bound to increase.
As the trail narrowed, Bryce spoke through his heated breath.
“This next hill isn’t nothing to play with. You need to increase your speed to make the incline.”
I smiled because I wasn’t running at full speed to appease his ego.
He was also my navigation guide, surpassing him wasn’t going to benefit me.
Bryce increased his pace, and I followed his lead.
Once the hill became visible, I found my grind and hit it with intensity.
“Shiiiiit,” Bryce yelled through gritted teeth.
I didn’t say anything, but I understood the words as my calves burned.
We both dug into the ground to make the incline.
Landing at the top, I stopped and tossed my head back to catch my breath.
My heart pounded in my chest like a drummer in a southern worship service.
Taking short, hard breaths allowed me to regain control of my body.
Bryce lifted, but he still struggled to settle his chest.
For professional athletes, it took us longer to recover than it should have.
“All right, Marcus, I see you,” Bryce said, and I shrugged.
“In order for us to have the connection I want us to have, I need you to talk to me, man,” Bryce said.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my shirt.
“What do you need to know?” I asked.
Bryce’s brows furrowed at my question as he folded his arms across his chest.
I could tell he was at a loss for words.
“How about you ask me the shit you didn’t find online,” I said, and he smiled.
Like most quarterbacks, I bet Bryce was analytical in life, as he was with a playbook.
“All right, what’s the deal with you and your baby’s mother?” he asked.
I re-adjusted my stance before I answered.
“I haven’t seen her since the day before she had my daughter. The hospital called me. She left my daughter and my contact number. What’s crazy is I was about to get jumped into a gang, but I went to the hospital instead to pick up Harley.”
“Damn. Have you heard from her? Is she involved in her life?” he questioned.
I didn’t share the intimate details of my life with most people, but we needed to establish a connection.
Without us being on the same page, we couldn’t help each other.
“Nope, not a word. She never returned to high school. From what I heard, her parents sent her off. Harley asks about her from time to time. It was hard being a single father at sixteen, but I did what I had to do. My little football princess saved my life,” I said.
Bryce approached me and slapped my hand.
I knew I gained his respect.
“What’s the deal with you and Vick? He did some foul shit. I would’ve beat his ass for his stunt. Why didn’t you?” I asked.
Bryce chuckled, but anger flashed in his eyes.
“I haven’t forgotten. I go about things differently, I plan to use you to dethrone his ass. Consider yourself the new number one wide receiver for the Houston Armadillos. I need us to be connected before you leave in three weeks. You down with it?” he questioned
This time, I chuckled at his statement.
“What choice do I have? If you throw the ball at me, I’m going to go get it. I need the starting position to take care of my daughter and grandmother. The reality of the matter is we feed off your arm. I’m involved whether I want to be or not. As a man, I can’t get down with what Vick did. I already don’t trust his ass,” I said.
Bryce and I glared at each other as he extended his hand.
After a long, hot shower and the meal prepared by Mrs.
Prescott, I rested my body across my bed.
Hill and Austin handed me my ass today.
I caught one ball against Hill after I fought for separation and he turned it up a notch.
Austin critiqued my footwork constantly – I couldn’t move off the line of scrimmage without a restart.
But, the connection between Bryce and I sparked once the ball fell into my hands.
I lifted my phone to call my daughter and saw a message from my mother.
Unknown
Marcus, son, please talk to me.
I know I messed up.
Don’t push your half siblings away.
I toggled over and called Harley.
The tablet rang once before she answered.
“Daddy!” she sang into the video.
“Princess. I miss you.”
“Good, now can you come home?” she asked with bright, hopeful eyes.
I hated disappointing my daughter, but glaring into her round face wasn’t going to make my answer any easier.
Outside of football, we were inseparable.
“Not yet,” I said, and her eyes lowered.
“Hey, hey. I know things are hard right now, but hang in there with me. Why did Daddy leave?” I questioned.
She pinched her lips together and pushed them to the side.
“To make a better life,” she quoted.
“And,” I encouraged her to continue.
“Take care of me and Granny,” she said lowly.
An email notification and text message came through, but I pushed them to the side.
“Tell me what you did today,” I asked, and she sighed.
“My teacher said she would give me her telephone number,” Harley said.
I bet she did.
Ms.
Denver tried several times to give me her personal phone number after the first parent teacher conference.
She was expecting Ms.
Renee, my grandmother’s helper, until I walked in the classroom.
Ms.
Denver was slim with a long weave, brown-coated skin and eyes.
But, she was too thin for my liking.
I preferred a full-figured woman.
“Sounds good, Harley. I found us two houses. First, we will move into our temporary house while the forever house is being built.”
“Will I get my castle bed?” Harley questioned.
“I will build it with my own two hands,” I promised.
“Can I help paint it?”
“You are the best painter I know. Are you going to work for free?” I asked.
“Daddy,” Harley sang, followed by a round of giggles.
I rented a four-bedroom house in the best public school district in Houston, thirty minutes from the stadium.
The fixer upper I bought stood a few blocks away from the rental.
A five-bedroom modern traditional style house.
With an all-cash offer and needed repairs, the seller came down on the price.
I stayed on the phone with Harley until she drifted off to sleep mid-way through our story time.
I kissed the screen before ending the video call and checked my messages.
Unknown
Marcus, I’m sorry.
How can we fix this?
I dismissed the message and opened my email from the Armadillos’ human resources department.
The subject read: “Please review the revised changes.” Opening the email, my heart raced at the offer and incentives.
Denise Jordan hiked everything by several millions.
She offered a four year 40-million-dollar deal with 30-million guaranteed and a standard fifth year option.
She added incentives for yardage gained after the catch, touchdowns and Elite Bowl appearance.
I signed this deal with a hard hell yeah.
The weight of securing Harley’s financial future was lighter, but her upbringing was still a question mark.
Granny had more days behind her than in front.
Ms.
Renee graciously took on more responsibility, and I awarded her with vacations and bonuses.
I’m financially stable.
I wanted a wife and more children, but it had to be right.
My daughter would model whatever woman I introduced her to because she wanted a mother.
Outside of her being a full-figured woman, she needed a pure heart and a willingness to love my daughter more than me.
Mia
Addison kissed my cheek before he put on my red helmet.
I tried not to cringe at his show of affection and pretended to shy away.
He stood behind me and helped with adjusting my bat.
“When the ball releases, do a quick three count and swing as hard as you can,” he said.
“I’m going to load the machine,” he whispered as he moved away.
I froze in the position he placed me into, readying myself for the ball.
“Here it comes,” he said from outside the enclosed cage.
The first ball passed me, and my head didn’t move.
“Mia, the next ball is coming. Swing,” he said with a shake of his head.
As the next ball came, the tip of the ball hit my bat and bounced.
I stepped back to slow my heart.
The power from my swing excited me.
Stepping upward, I zeroed in on the machine and smacked the next ball but it didn’t get far.
“Yea! Swing and release,” Addison said.
On the next pitch, I swung harder connecting with the ball, and it traveled past the machine.
I released a tear, along with emotions I’d bottled up for far too long.
“Let the ball have it, Mia,” he said, and I unloaded.
An hour later, I swallowed a piece of greasy cheese pizza and closed my eyes to savor the taste.
“See, I told you this place had good food and fun,” Addison said.
Dancing in my seat, he chuckled at my movement.
Connecting the balls with the bat freed my anger and frustrations.
In the morning, I knew my body would remind me of the workout.
Fuck it, I might do this once a week.
At this point, it was cheaper, and a faster release than therapy.
“This pizza goes on the list, but no one could beat...”
“Carl’s,” he interrupted.
We both agreed with our heads, Carl’s Pizza was a staple in Houston.
You had a better chance of hitting the lottery than getting a pizza on the weekend.
“Mia, you were smacking those balls. Have you ever played softball?” he asked.
My brows hiked to the ceiling before I giggled.
“Absolutely not. I spent my days in dance class, on set, and shopping,” I said.
“Who were you hitting out there?” he asked and I lowered my eyes.
“No judgment here,” he said.
I scanned the room to discover the couple next to us had deserted their table.
“Nathan,” I said under my breath and Addison squeezed my hand.
“From what I pieced together, he cheated and brought you home a baby,” he said.
I shook my head yes and lowered my eyes, but he lifted my chin.
“Love is weird sometimes. I was hitting my ex-wife’s affair partner with each swing,” he said
“What happened?” I asked.
“High school sweetheart returned,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured.
“It was three years ago but I want love again,” he said.
Silence lingered between us as we both were unsure of our next move.
“I don’t know. I’m trying to work on being open,” I said to keep the conversation flowing.
Addison smirked at my comment before biting down on his pizza.
“You could start by being open with me,” he said.
Why?
He was doing so good.
My body and mind rejected his flirtatious statement.
He lacked one crucial element: swag.
I wanted a man who pulled me into his masculine energy, without the toxicity.
Addison gave me best friend vibes.
I’m sure he could provide, but I didn’t need financial assistance.
Dr.
Choice and I discovered my love language was acts of service.
I needed my partner to need me, but not financially.
“Mia, do you think there could be a future between us? When I flirt, you cringe,” he said.
He noticed my lack of interest although I tried hard to hide it.
I took in Addison’s toned body and beautiful brown eyes and weighed my options.
No matter how hard I squinted, I couldn’t make myself produce the butterflies.
“Right now, I’m not in the place for a relationship but I would appreciate it if we hung out. Today you did something amazing for me. And I thank you for it,” I said.
He accepted my answer with a nod.
“You made it,” Stacie said, and I caught the attitude.
When she invited me to the game, I decided to go instead of watching it on TV.
With my podcast and Madison inviting me back on the set, I needed new material.
Standing in the hallway of the baseball suites, the space crawled with important people.
I had a thought to wear Rex’s jersey, but dismissed the notion.
If I wore a jersey, it would be my man’s, and I couldn’t picture myself dating an athlete.
They were walking cheaters with families in every city they visited.
Nathan’s job required travel, but he cheated right here in Houston.
Women were sending me pictures and videos of them together after our breakup was discovered.
With us trying for a baby, we didn’t use protection.
I ran to the doctor for STI and STD testing.
Waiting for test results, my rose-colored glasses dissolved.
Nathan wasn’t the prince charming I morphed him to be nor was his reputation as an agent.
My mother believed he targeted me for my media connections.
Today, I couldn’t dispute her claim.
“Hi, friend, I’m doing fine,” I said.
Stacie sucked her teeth before she extended her arms for a hug.
“We need to discuss your date last night,” she whispered in my ear.
“Whatever,” I said and pulled on my Fire Bombers baseball cap.
“But you lookin’ cute. I’m sure I can hook you up with someone else.”
I rolled my eyes as I twirled, but I was most proud of my ponytail.
It took me ten minutes to get my hair through the hat opening.
Completing my circle, my eyes connected with Nathan.
Stacie caught on and followed my attention.
My heart wanted to cave into my chest as Onna and Latrice stood beside him.
The life I wanted played in front of my face with no commercial break.
Onna’s facial features now mirrored Nathan’s with the shape of her nose and her eyes.
Latrice appeared to have pulled it together with her petite frame and a decent wig.
“He trying to secure a deal,” Stacie said, with folded arms.
I knew I should refocus my attention, but I couldn’t help but watch.
The motion of Latrice’s face as she expressed fake laughter churned my stomach.
“David Keys is the owner of the Boston baseball team and a family man. Nathan knows no bounds to his bullshit,” Stacie said.
I smirked at my friend as I tried to process the scene and the surrounding noise.
“Mia, Nathan’s reputation isn’t what it used to be. The wrath unleashed on him was brutal after you guys broke up. Players appeared to have soared after they dropped him. I, for one, encouraged Rex to follow everyone else’s lead, but he is an old faithful dog,” she said.
My eyes traveled up and down Nathan’s 6’0 slim frame and low fade.
“You get back what you release in the universe,” I said.
Nathan and Latrice moved in our direction as a family unit.
I held my nervous breath as they stopped in front of me.
“Mia, how are you?” he asked, as if we had never shared a bed.
The words I wanted to say remained trapped behind my teeth as I considered our surroundings.
“Onna has grown since the last time you’ve seen her,” he said.
Something pushed me to kneel on Onna’s level.
She gave me an empty glare and moved behind her father’s leg.
She forgot about me.
Standing, I found my bearings and entered another stare down with Latrice.
“Mia,” Latrice said, and my eyes traveled to her wig line first.
Stacie was correct.
She finally figured out how to make the lace blend with her skin.
She pushed her hair behind her ear, showing her engagement ring.
“Congratulations,” I said and a long, uncomfortable silence stood between us all.
“Stacie, we need to discuss Rex’s contract,” he said, gripping his daughter’s hand.
“Ah, Nathan, you know I removed myself from his contract because we’re fucking. Do you need anything else?” Stacie said, and my mouth parted.
“My daughter is here,” Latrice boasted in horror.
“Girl, you should have thought about your daughter before you came over here to pick. As if you had something on your arm to taunt with. Behave or I will put you out of this entire stadium because it’s mine,” Stacie said.
I locked arms with my friend and pulled her in the opposite direction.
“Stacie, let’s go,” I said.
She turned to me with a construed face and light resistance.
“ But I wanted to discuss her wig,” Stacie said in a soft, mocking tone.
“Let’s go,” I said.
As we walked away, a sense of freedom settled over me after seeing Onna one last time.