Married to a Balla (14 page)

“I don’t care, I’m tired of hiding!” Kareem yelled.

Skye slapped him across his face. “Did you tell him?”

Kareem hesitated for a moment. “No!”

Skye wasn’t sure if she could believe her son. “I’m trying to make a better life for us and you’re ruining it. I don’t know you anymore. You aren’t the son I raised. I should’ve left your ass in jail!”

“I hope you’re not trying to make a new life with him,” Kareem said, pointing to Justice.

Skye was so embarrassed. She told Kareem to apologize, but he just looked at her with a blank stare.

“Look, you’re in my house. You’re gonna respect Justice when he’s here, you got that?”

“Yeah,” Kareem said in a nonchalant tone, then walked to him and Jordan’s room and slammed the door.

Kareem was so upset with his mother. As far as he was concerned he didn’t think she was emotionally or mentally ready to start dating again. He especially didn’t trust Justice. He didn’t feel his intentions were honorable. He was sure he was playing on his mother’s vulnerability and vowed to get him out of their lives as soon as possible before she fell in love with him.

Chapter 15

Sandino shook his leg continuously while listening to his lawyer and agent during a visit about his release.

“I was able to get you off due to lack of evidence. As it turns out, the three witnesses at the night club who came forward in the beginning refuse to cooperate with authorities now. With the young man who was injured not actually seeing you fire the weapon, the district attorney felt as though he wouldn’t have a case. It also helped that your gun was registered and you have a license to carry a concealed weapon. All of that worked in your favor,” the Jewish man informed.

“It took your ass long enough. I’ve been in this jail, seventeen fuckin’ weeks! S-e-v-e-n-t-e-e-n,” Sandino reiterated. “I couldn’t even go to my mother’s funeral last month. I bet if I was one of them white quarterback muthafuckas I woulda been out by now!”

“Mr. Washington these things take time. Just be thankful that we were finally able to get the charges dropped,” his lawyer responded.

Little do you know, my man Black was gettin’ ready to take the charge for me if you hadn’t come through
, Sandino thought.

“They’re preparing your paper work so you can be released tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” Sandino asked in disbelief.

“Yes, that was the best I could do.” His lawyer placed a few pieces of paper inside his briefcase. “I hope you’ll stay out of trouble after all this.”

Sandino frowned. “What difference would it make if I didn’t? As long as you gettin’ paid, why the fuck should you care?”

“As long as you sign the checks, I really don’t care. I was just trying to give you some free legal advice,” the lawyer responded in a sarcastic tone.

Sandino looked at the freckled face white man, wanting to throw a Mike Tyson style haymaker, but knew he wouldn’t get out if he did. Instead, he turned to his agent.

“So, Bryan, have any other teams expressed interest in me? I’m ready to get back on that field next season.”

Immediately after getting locked up, the Miami Dolphins dropped Sandino from the team. Apparently he had no idea about the clause in his contract that stated Sandino would be released if he was ever involved in any criminal activity. His former agent had failed to mention that to him as well.

“Sandino, nobody wants to touch you because of your temper. Hell, did you forget that you were suspended for that illegal hit during the pre-season? Most general managers won’t even take my call because they know exactly what I want. Not to mention, you’re one of the oldest Defensive Tackle’s in the league. Everybody thinks you should retire anyway,” Bryan replied.

Sandino banged his fist against the table. “Fuck what everybody else thinks. I’ll retire when I’m good and goddamn ready! All them hatin’ muthafuckas can go to hell, includin’ you Bryan. Who’s side are you on anyway?”

Bryan lowered his voice. “You were extremely intoxicated when you were arrested. That won’t sit well with team owners right now. Maybe you should think about going to rehab and getting yourself together once you get out.”

Sandino eyebrows crinkled. “Rehab, are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? I’m not doin’ that shit.”

“Why not? I know you’ve been in here for a while, but going to rehab, might be like a sign of good faith…to show that you’re trying to change,” Bryan lectured.

“Fuck that dumb shit,” Sandino quickly replied.

“Well, if the press ever finds out that Skye took the kids and left that’ll look even worse,” Bryan added.

A vein in Sandino’s neck started to pulsate. “That shit is temporary. My wife will be back home as soon as I get out of here! White players go through shit like this all the time,” he said, standing up. “Bryan, I’m givin’ your ass a week to find me a fuckin’ team or it’s curtains for you.”

The guard walked over to the table. “Do we have a problem here?” he asked. “Mr. Washington, did you just threaten him?”

“Oh, no everything is fine,” Sandino’s lawyer assured the guard. He quickly gave Sandino a look that said, “please calm down.”

Sandino stared back at the guard. “Yeah, chill the fuck out, everything is fine.”

“You’ve gotta get a grip of your temper,” Bryan advised.

“Have you had any luck findin’ my wife? Did you look in the Atlanta area like I told you to?” Sandino asked his attorney.

“Sandino, I’ve been so busy trying to get you out, I haven’t had time to deal with that issue. Besides, I’m not a private investigator. Maybe you should think about getting one if you’re expecting some better results.”

“Wit’ the amount of money I pay both y’all muthafuckas, you’ll be whatever the fuck I tell you to be! And I better have a fuckin’ limo waitin’ for me when I get outta this bitch! You hear me Bryan?” Sandino yelled.

“Yes, but please calm down,” Bryan replied. “Yelling isn’t gonna solve anything.”

“I think we’re all done here, I’ll be in touch,” his lawyer said, getting up to leave.

His agent shook his head. “Okay Sandino, remember to keep your mouth closed in regards to talking to the press tomorrow. If there’s any chance of you getting back into the league, saying something stupid wouldn’t be a good thing to do right now. I’ll call you once you’re released and get settled. Until then, lay low and keep your nose clean.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sandino mumbled.

Once everyone was gone, Sandino waited for the guard to come and cuff him.

How the fuck did my life end up like this? I had it all, a career, lots of friends, a beautiful wife, kids, we were set for life. I still can’t believe Skye would do this shit to me. At my lowest point too! After I got arrested I expected her to come back for support, but I guess I was wrong. Now that bitch is gonna be sorry she ever fucked wit’ me.

******

When Sandino was released from Dade County jail the next day, just as Bryan had predicted there were news reporters and photographers everywhere. They all seemed to ask the same question, what were his plans now that he was no longer in the league.

“Mr. Washington…Mr. Washington, how was it in jail? Everyone is dying to know what your daily routine was,” one reporter boldly stated. “Did the inmates treat you like a celebrity?

“Are you afraid this experience will ruin your career?” another reporter blurted out.

Taking his agent’s advice, Sandino jumped in the limo and told the driver to take him to Liberty City, instead of making a statement. When the driver looked at him through the rearview mirror, wondering why a former pro football player wanted to go to the hood, Sandino smiled.

“I’m in desperate need of some pussy right now, partner,” Sandino admitted.

Not wanting to pry any further, the driver nodded his head and blew his horn trying to get past the reporters and the mob of people standing in the way.

“Run them muthafuckas ova if you have to, and turn that shit up!” Sandino yelled then bobbed his head to a new Fabolous song.

“Girl you be killin’ ‘em…you be killin’ em,” he repeated along with the chipped tooth rapper.

Knowing that Black laughed every time he danced, Sandino was glad the driver had raised the tinted privacy glass so he could be at his imaginary concert alone. Rhythm was something Sandino definitely hadn’t inherited as he clapped his hands off beat.

*****

Three hours later, Sandino was laying on the bed with one of his old jumpoffs, Trina smoking weed, and drinking Coconut Ciroc. After reaching under the bed and grabbing a mirror with cocaine on it, Trina sniffed a line, then passed the mirror to Sandino. He looked at it. With all the bullshit going on in his life right now he needed to get high and the buzz from the weed wasn’t strong enough.

After sniffing the powder, Sandino continued drinking and looked over at Trina who was wearing a white wife beater that made her plump booty beg for attention. The cute, ghetto fabulous girl was sprinkling weed into a Pink Berry Bluntville cigar when Sandino slapped her ass.

“Trina, who you been fuckin’ while I was locked up?”

She lit the blunt and exhaled. “You got a wife and you still tryna keep tabs on this pussy? Nigga, get the fuck outta here,” she said laughing. “Your ass don’t own this.”

“Wrong muthafuckin’ answer, bitch,” he said, slapping her across the face. “You think this shit is a game? Take them fuckin’ clothes off now!” he ordered.

Trina knew the drill. She’d been one of Sandino’s side chicks ever since he got to Miami, so she knew better than to fight back. Instead, she placed the blunt in an ash tray by the bed and started slowly undressing.

“Hurry up. Don’t play wit’ me Trina!” he continued.

After taking off his clothes, Sandino reached over and grabbed a wad of Trina’s off-black weave before pushing her back down on the bed. He then forcefully opened her legs and shoved his thick shaft inside her walls.

“Is that all you got nigga?” she moaned.

“You talkin’ shit, huh, bitch?” he said, flipping Trina over on her stomach. He pushed her face so far into the pillow, she could hardly breathe.

“You hurtin’ me!” Trina yelled even though her cries went unnoticed.

Beyond excited by this point, it wasn’t long before Sandino pulled out of her pussy then rammed his dick in her ass with no lubrication. Although Trina was used to anal sex, Sandino’s large dick was more than she could handle.

“Wait…it hurts Sandino!” Trina wailed.

Her pleads for him to stop still didn’t phase Sandino as he thrust his manhood back and forth at a rapid speed. Taking her pussy felt good and got out tons of his bottled up aggression. When Sandino felt himself about to cum, he pulled out.

“Come suck my dick, bitch.”

When she didn’t move fast enough he grabbed her foot and drug her off the bed. “Get on your knees!” he demanded, punching her in the face.

“Sandino, what the hell is wrong with you?” Trina asked with tears in her eyes.

“This is what happens when you talk shit!”

When he grabbed her by the neck and crammed his dick inside her mouth, she instantly gagged, which caused Sandino to get even hornier. At that point, he pushed his tool even deeper.

“Please sto..,” she tried to say.

“Shut the fuck up and suck!” he yelled, holding the back of her head.

Goose bumps covered her trembling body when she saw the rage in Sandino’s face build up as he spoke. Trina sucked with force thinking she had to get it over with. A few minutes later, she heard his breathing intensifying and the grip on her head get tighter followed by a loud grunt when he released in her mouth. Trina knew she had to swallow. Spitting out his seed wasn’t allowed.

As soon as he fell back onto the bed, Trina jerked her body away and moved to the other side of the room. Out of all the times they’d ever had sex, this time she never felt so humiliated.

“I see jail hasn’t changed your crazy-ass,” she finally said.

“Who the fuck said it would?” he responded.

Chapter 16

Later that evening, Sandino sat in Trina’s living room smoking on another blunt and waiting for her to fix him something to eat.

“Hurry the fuck up, Trina you slow as hell! You got a nigga out here starvin’?” he yelled.

A few minutes later, Trina walked out with a white paper plate that held a fried bologna sandwich and some seasoned curly fries. When Sandino looked at the food, he instantly frowned.

“What the hell is that? I’m not eatin’ that bullshit,” he said, grabbing the plate and throwing it up against the wall. “Do you think I’m still in fuckin’ jail? I’m not about to eat no damn bologna. I ain’t had that shit since I was six years old. Now, go in there and make me some real food, pasta or something,” he demanded.

As soon as Trina rolled her eyes, Sandino jumped up in her face.

“Is there a problem? Do you need to get something off your chest?”

Trina wasn’t in the mood for his temper. More importantly, she didn’t feel like getting her ass kicked over some lunch meat.

“No, not at all. I’ll find something else,” she said walking around him.

After picking up the food and the plate off the floor, she made her way back into the kitchen.

“I’m sick of these dumb-ass broads,” Sandino replied before sitting back down.

With the television up loudly, he directed his attention to Sports Center on ESPN. Surprisingly, they were showing a bad football highlight of the Miami Dolphins from a few weeks earlier. Sandino hated seeing his former team playing without him.

“You should’ve thrown the damn ball, Henne!” Sandino yelled.