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“Damn right it does,” AJ mumbles.
“I accept that. Now you accept that you sound like a little whiney bitch baby.” I glance in the rearview and am met by his glare. “Boy, don’t make me pull this thing over.”
Nour and even Bennett chuckle.
“You didn’t see Blaze tuck tail and cry fire as an excuse when Coach chewed his ass. He knows there’s an investigation and that we need to keep this all between the family until that’s concluded.” I flip on my blinker.
“You know how much sympathy ass I could be getting right now?” AJ asks with total sincerity. “Even anal wouldn’t be a big ask for a guy who just lost his home.”
“You think a chick, who you just met, who wasn’t already getting railed in the ass, is going to be like, ‘Gasp, your place caught fire. Let me bend over and spread my cheeks so you can shove your dick in my untouched hole?’”
What. The. Fuck?
No one says a word for a good five seconds before we all bust the fuck up.
This may not be particularly funny, but when it comes out of the mouth of a kid who hardly says a damn thing—Blaze Bennett Jr.’s mouth—it’s fucking hilarious. Like, side-splitting hilarity.
AJ chuckles. “Fuck off all of you.”
When I hit my blinker and slow down again, I glance back as AJ looks up, eyes wide, mouth agape.
“You gonna be a good boy now?” I ask.
“Yes, Daddy,” he cries out. “Oh God, yes!”
Again, we all find ourselves laughing. It has to be partially because none of us got back to sleep after the fire. But all four of us napped like champs in the player’s lounge after the team meal, but it’s not the same.
In my side mirror, I notice the exact vehicle has been tailing me since we left the parking lot, and my suspicions are confirmed.
Marks is on us, and that fire was no accident.
* * *
After picking up enough Taco Bell to feed an entire team, I take a little detour, bullshitting the rookies that I’m giving them a tour of Trenton’s hottest spots and doing it at a speed that’s not entirely legal. But my true mission is accomplished—I lost Marks.
We meet facing each other at the mouth of CeCe’s driveway, where I wave him in, and he flips me off.
The boys climb out of the vehicle.
“Meet you inside in a minute.”
I watch as Marks walks up the stairs and assume he’s opening the door for them.
I lean down and reach under my seat. I pull out my little black box, punch in the combination, open it, punch the combo into the following box, open that, and pull out my Glock.
A tap at the window has me looking up at Marks.
I open the door, step out, check the safety, and shove my gun into my waistband.
“What the hell kind of Fabergé bullshit was that?”
“Safety is no accident, Marks,” I say, walking to the back of my ride, popping the hatch, and then grabbing my bag. I close it and turn to look at him.
“How the fuck are you gonna get to that when you really need it?”
“That’s a great fucking question. I have one for you. How would someone protect themselves if they didn’t know there was someone intent on doing them harm?” I scratch my head for effect.
He crosses his arms, not saying shit.
