Page 16 of Rayzor: Tell Me It’s Mine II

“Don’t what’s up me. Why the hell is there money and boxing gloves in your bag, Maleek?”

He grew quiet, but I knew he was still there because of his active background.

“It’s not even like that.”

“So, money and boxing gloves from a boy that doesn’t have a job isn’t what it seems like?”

Silence.

I was holding my breath, praying for a different outcome, but I knew the truth.

“Bring your ass home now.”

I ended the call and went to my call log, hovering over the recent number.

“Buttermilk.”

I hated the sound of his breathing, the way he spoke. The fact that he was even alive. I hated his every existence.

“You won’t get him the way you did Courtland! Stay away from Maleek!” I threatened before ending the call.

I shot up from the seat, tossing everything, including the money, into the back and making a beeline to the front of the house. I grabbed the lighter from the TV stand then slapped the screen door open.

“You won’t get him. I won’t fucking let you.”

Throwing the bag on the ground, I bent down, lighting the trap on fire.

“Ma, what’re you doing? That’s my bag!” Maleek yelled out, running into the yard.

“Don’t you…” I warned him with my finger pointed at him, but my eyes were on the burning flame from the bag.

He abruptly stopped.

“Why are you doing this, Ma? Damn. I ain’t hurting nobody,” he cursed.

He didn’t know that this was doing more harm than good. He was hurting me.

We watched the flames from different views. Me, I was putting an end to a start. Maleek, he had hatred in his eyes from me trying to control his life. Either way, we were both grieving. I’d rather him hate me than me lose him to the life that came with that.

Momma was always trying to control me. I knew she had a reason to be mad, but she didn’t have to burn my bag. There was five hundred in there that I made from a match. I wanted to buy a few things. I wasn’t hurting for it, but it was my own money that wasn’t tied to Ma or Court. I deserved my own lil’ shit.

Living in the shadow of Court had its perks, but it also had its disadvantages. But one thing I had for certain was that grit and drive to box. It was about feeling my opponents’ pain and watching them crumble when I hit just right because they underestimated me. Don’t get me wrong, I hadn’t been in many matches, but I’d been in enough to know boxing was in my blood like my family. I’d tried a lot of sports, but was left feeling like something was missing. Like something else was out there. So, I went searching down at the gym, and boxing came to me.

When I punched my first bag, something awakened in me. It felt like I was keeping Dad’s dream alive. I felt closer to Court. It was different than what I was used to. I’d seen my brother’s matches on TV, never in person, but every time I watched, it felt like something I could get into.

“Ma, why are you doing this?”

“Because I’ll be damned if I lose another person I love to… this. This demon.”

“It paid the bills when Dad was alive. It wasn’t a demon then. It’s not a demon to Court. Look at how famous he is. I bet if you needed something you’d take that same blood money with no hesitation.”

She snapped her head at me. “I didn’t want either of them doing this. It was only supposed to be for fun. I lost my husband at the very place he took interest in fighting. My son watched his father die, lost an eye, himself and almost his very own life behind this very thing. And you… You shouldn’t even know this lifestyle. I’ve kept it away from you for most of your life. You don’t want this… You just wanna rebel against me. That’s the difference between you and Courtland. It was a dream for him. It’s rebellion for you.”

“At least you notice me now.”

“What?” she said.

“At least you see me for someone other than a fragile kid, Ma. I’m my own person. I’m boxing because it’s in my blood.”