Page 17 of The Baller

“What the…?” he groaned, like I had.

“FEDERAL AGENT. DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING MOVE!”

I didn’t move. I was still staring up at the night sky and trying to figure out exactly what the fuck was going on, and whether the stars I was seeing were real or due to a likely head injury. Following another chorus of loud cries and heavy grunts, plus a high-pitched screech that nearly burst my ear drums, Ace and Tanner joined us on the ground.

“GET THE FUCK DOWN!” someone yelled as Tanner tried to sit up. “SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

“Sit-Rep on Bookstore,” a deep voice said, hopefully not to me, because I had no fucking clue what they were talking about, let alone what was happening. “Twenty on Bookstore.”

I attempted to lift my head, which is harder than it sounds when someone is standing over you with a gun pointed your way, and you have cartoon stars spinning around from the speed at which you hit the ground.

“I don’t think he’s the campus creeper,” Parker whispered loudly on my left, cutting through the ringing in my ears.

“You think?” A sharp pain hit between my eyes as I attempted to roll them, and turned my head his way.

“Yeah. He’s more like G.I. Joe.”

“Hey, dickheads, I’m not telling you again. Keep your fucking mouths shut!” the voice ordered.

“I think he’s talking to us,” Tanner hissed.

“Yeah, so shut up,” I hissed back, as several sets of footsteps approached.

“Stand down, it’s those fucking baseball kids. It’s the Lions center field again. He’s just been with her, and three more of them.” I heard a click as G.I. Joe holstered his gun.

Great. So much for staying under the radar. But kids? What? Like, seriously?Kids?

I wasn’t the only one outraged. “Who are you calling kids, asshole? I’d like to see you do it to my face.”

There was a deep, huffed laugh, though when the voice spoke, it was distinctly female. From the corner of my eye, Tanner’s head lifted before dropping again.

“Yeah, I’m quaking in my boots. You punch about as well as you hit. No wonder you didn’t make the World Series.”

“Hey, fuggchu,” mumbled Ace. Though it sounded more like he was underwater than laying on the ground two feet away.

I groaned. I didn’t know much, but figured antagonizing them wasn’t a good idea.

The woman leaned over Ace. “Say that one more time. I dare you. Think I care about accidently shooting the Lions’ pitcher?”

Ace stopped groaning, and thankfully there was silence for a second.

I opened my eyes a little wider than the squint they’d been held in, and what I could tell from my position,stillon the ground, was there were now three people standing over us, with G.I. Joe – formerly the campus creeper – to the left. All of them had guns, and/or were members of law enforcement. That made sense. There’s no way one guy could take all four of us down at the same time in less than ten seconds.

Though it still begged the question, who the fuck were they?

“Get Bookstore to the dorm, we’ll be right behind you,” snapped G.I. Joe, one thick hand easing along his neck. “No, Agent Fordly. Get her to the dorm, and that’s an order.”

“Who’s he talking to?” asked Parker.

Okay, enough was enough. I pushed up on my elbows. “Hey! Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck are you talking to? What the fuck is Bookstore?”

I waited. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Not even an acknowledgment.

“Hey! I’m talking to you.”

“Did he say federal agent?” Tanner mumbled ten seconds later.

I was trying to listen to what G.I. Joe was saying, but Parker was hissing in my ear again, and tugging on my sleeve.

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