Page 47 of Rayzor: Tell Me It’s Mine II

“My life ain’t no fucking publicity stunt.”

“I’m not saying it is but listen. You’re the hottest boxer out right now, and honestly, you’re on the hot-headed side, but you’re… what’s the word I’m looking for? Plain.”

I dropped my leg from on top of my knee.

“Plain?”

“Nigga, you were just having them spray-paint tattoos off me and shit, and now I’m plain?” I retorted.

“Not like that. I mean, you treat your career as that. The people barely see you unless it’s charity or you’re spotted somewhere; other than that, it’s nothing. No clubs, outbursts or anything. It’s not clean-cut, but it’s not spicy either. We can use this to our advantage because whether you believe it or not, you were supposed to be my star bachelor.”

“And I’m not, nigga, now what? You ain’t about to use my life as your paycheck. I do what I love, and that’s it. That’s all you get paid for.”

“But we can sell this… You and Eris on magazines. Make you the newest, hottest couple. It’s already been in the making. They’ve always gotten you two in blogs, but magazines can turn into interviews, and next TV, and the sky is the limit from here.”

“You must got a fuckin’ hearing problem. My life ain’t your movie, nigga.”

“So, are you denying that rock on her finger because it wasn’t there just last month?”

I stood up to leave because this mothafucka was annoying me, and I wasn’t about to sit here and beat a dead horse when I already told his ass what it was. That’s why I kept shit professional with Morrison because he was always trying to turn piss into lemonade.

“Get this shit off the internet,” I warned before grabbing my phone from his desk and heading toward the door.

“You’re making a big mistake with this, Kirkland. This could be your big moment, and Eris’s too!” he yelled as I walked out, leaving his office door wide open.

I walked into the house. Eris was coming out of the kitchen, snacking on a cucumber.

Levi was running around the house, and I assumed Erin was in the room.

I grabbed Eris’s hand.

“Let’s get married.”

“You already asked me that baby,” she said with inquisitive eyes.

“Nah, like now. Fuck that three-month shit.”

“Huh? Why so early?”

I dropped her hand and headed to the kitchen.

“I don’t wanna wait no more. And with everything coming out about the engagement, I feel like Morrison wants to use this as a payout.”

Morrison didn’t force my hand; he made the anticipation of making E my wife more prevalent.

I opened the fridge, grabbed a beer, popped the top and threw the cap on the counter.

“What? I thought you were getting him to fix it.”

I turned around.

“I’m making it happen on my end, but he ain’t gon’ do shit. He wants this to be the highlight.” I put the beer down and went for Eris. “I’m not trying to put you or our family in the spotlight.”

She grabbed the side of my face. “I know you’re not, baby.”

A heartbeat felt like eternity.

“Every day is a new day. Being with a celebrity is a challenge, but through it all, the lights, glitz and glamour- I know you’ll protect us. As long as they stay away from the kids, they can take pictures of me all they want.”