Page 26 of Bruised Hearts

16- Landon “Breaker” Mercer

I could hear Pop’s car coming before it made it up the block. He was tearing ass trying to get to me. When his car rounded the corner, that mufucka was damn near on two wheels. Laughing under my breath, I watched him jump out the car barely giving it time to stop. I was still sitting on the porch as he did a light jog to me. Seeing him like this always had me grateful as fuck God put him in my life. That nigga was a great father, and he showed it time and time again. Pops looked at me and realization showed on his face, and in his movements. He was no longer burning the soles off his shoes trying to make it to me. After dapping it up with Titan, he sat next to me and looked around.

“What? Yo petty ass called me over here to take you to eat?” Laughing, I shook my head no and stood up.

“Naw, it’s a court over there and I was ready to bust yo ass. I didn’t expect you to drive up in skips, slacks, and a church vest.” Pops looked down at himself and I fell out laughing.

“Nigga, fuck you. I had a meeting. Don’t get this shit twisted though, I can still take your ass. Ummm, is you cool though?”

“Nigga, yeah. What you mean?”

“I got a court. At home. In my million dollar mansion. Why the fuck would I play out here in the hood? It’s some unsavory characters out this mufucka.” Me and Titan both fell out laughing.

“Not you done went Hollywood on us. It’s aight because you not about to tell Moms I’m the reason your ankle done slid inside out.” I could see the competitive look come across his face.

“I got gym shoes in the car.”

“Say less.” Pops ran off and Titan shook his head.

“You challenged that nigga and he done forgot he got his boujie ass out here about to play in the hood.”

“Mufucka damn near slid to the car. He really gone be mad if one of these lil jits catch his ass on camera getting whooped.” Pops walked back over with a ball in hand and his sneakers on.

“Don’t back yo ugly ass out now. Let’s go.” His ass charged off with me following behind him. The court was empty, so I took my hoodie and hat off.

“Titan this nigga be cheating, so keep score.”

“I ain’t gotta cheat, nigga. This is what I do. Check ball.” He threw the ball at me, so I bounced it back to him. Pops dropped a three immediately. “I don’t hear you saying shit now.”

“You got one point and acting like you won.”

“Shut yo hoe ass up. Money.” He shot and sunk another three. Walking up closer to him, I put my arms in the air. “Finally, you ready to play defense.” Ignoring his taunting, I watched his hands and when he tried to go left, I stole it from him. Bouncing the ball, I took off running towards the basket. “Travel.”

“Nigga, what?” I looked at Titan to say he was wrong, but that mufucka was laughing.

“You just took five steps.” Shaking my head, I threw the ball back to him and went back in defense mode. Pops tried to body check me before doing a fade away, but I blocked his ass and grabbed the ball back. Drawing back, I shot, and missed. “Damn boy, I guess being an athlete don’t mean you can play all sports.”

“Man, play ball.” He was talking big shit, and I could tell he was feeling himself. Pops laid the ball up and got another basket.

“You done got quiet, ain’t it?” Sweat was running down my face as I tried to focus. His shit talking was throwing me off my game.

“Are you going to play ball or talk shit?”

“Whewww, you gone got sensitive. Money.” He dropped another three and I couldn’t do shit but laugh when the big ass smile spread across his face.

“You can let me get a point. Damn!”

“Naw, I gotta learn you something. You think you can take your daddy on. In his sport. Gotta make sure you know who the champ is on this blacktop.”

“Top deez nuts.”

“No, thank you! Money.” That nigga popped another three and I thought real hard about tripping the fuck out his ass. “Son, you gotta do something. I’m never gone let you live this down.” I knew he wasn’t lying either.

“Hey yall, that’s The Mercenary.” Some lil jit screamed to his friends. Pops was still locked in, so he didn’t even hear someone recognized him. I felt proud as hell for him though. Even though he played here, he’s a Chicagoan, but they still show him mad love. A crowd of kids ran over, so I tapped in. I wasn’t trying to get caught losing on camera. His next shot, I blocked it and immediately took it to the hole.

“Let’s get it.” Pops looked at me shocked before laughing.

“Nigga, you get one point and now you wanna talk shit.”