Half Court Press [Crash the Boards Sequel]

A Woman Scorned.

Zaria

"Be careful baby, you don't wanna fall and hit your head." I say to Deuce after witnessing him jump from the couch before dunking his ball into his toy goal.

"He a'ight. Let him be a boy." Allen adds in.

I quieted down and continued watching our son do what he does best which was run around like an energizer bunny.

Nothing has been the same these past few days.

By now everyone knows that Allen and his crew were being accused of assaulting a man with a firearm last week. The detectives have based their case on the statements from the so called victim who said Allen held him down and punched him multiple times while holding a gun in his other hand. Due to these accusations against Allen, he's unfortunately being charged with four different felonies.

Instead of going to jail right away, he was granted the privilege of staying home until his lawyer returns from vacation before turning himself in. Police have already searched our home but never found a gun or any weapon that matched the description that was given, which is another reason why Allen is granted the special privilege. The entire case now rests on the victim, who Allen's lawyer said is likely to be picked apart should the case ever go to trial.

Deuce jumps again from the couch, this time missing the rim by an inch.

"Almost. You gotta keep goin til you make it. Try one more time." Allen encouraged him.

I stood up from my spot on the couch and headed over to the window that's facing the front of our home. The small crowd of reporters and camera operators were staked outside a few yards away at the gate, waiting to get some type of attention.

"I wish they'd just go away." I say to myself.

The media siege was triggered by the announcement that the detectives intended to charge Allen with crimes that could total seventy years in prison. The allure of a celebrity scandal stoked public and media interest in a city bereft of A-list celebrities. The Iverson saga has been front-page news, overshadowing other major changes in the city.

But none of that beats the torment I've been through lately.

When I told Allen about my slip up with another man he played it off like he wasn't upset but I knew better. Within a day he proved that the thought of me being intimate with someone else is where he draws the line.

As usual, Allen preferred confrontation, so I tried to distance myself from his aggression by choosing to deescalate the conversation to prevent another storm from swirling into our home. So each time he brought up the topic, I chose to walk away. But just like the classic Allen I know, he still managed to find me wherever I was in our massive home and say what he had to say and continued to drill it into my head until he either made me leave or I left on my own.

And since he couldn't leave, I found a way to go without catching the attention from the camera crew who camped outside our gate. Then when I would return, Allen was drunk and still angry. Still, I tried to ignore him and mind my own business but it never failed, he always found a way to pick a fight with me.

Before all of this even started, I could see that the bad boy image was consuming Allen.

The flickering candle light of his innocence seemed darkened by a spreading set of bad examples and a lack of discipline. He was drinking more now, staying out later, and mama Ann's phone rang occasionally with panicked calls from me. Over a relatively short period of time, Allen seemed less entertained by things like family time; instead he withdrew into strip clubs and parties to throw stacks to the needy.