Page 6 of Suleem and Yahzi
“Say less. I wish you would have hit my line before I sold to him. That shit would have been a hard fucking no from me.”
“I got caught up with Kassan and forgot to get with you about it. That nigga got lucky with you but that was his last key. If these lil niggas can’t respect our rules, how the hell can I trust that he’ll handle business on the low? He’s a liability.”
“And we don’t do those,” I made clear.
“At all,” Kassir co-signed.
“So, you ain’t gon’ say shit about Rebel being home?” He was on my ass about Yahzi but was pretty much in the same situation. She was his one. Most people thought my nigga was foul for how he handled things back then but he was really looking out the only way he knew how.
“Ain’t shit to say that you don’t already know. She’s back and we’re making it work.”
“I’m on the same fucking time.”
“Handle yo’ business with Yahzi, bruh, and hit me when you get back.”
“Bet,” I said and ended the call. Maybe the universe was handing us both a second chance to get this shit right. I damn sure wasn’t about to fumble that muthafucker.
When I pulledinto Yahzi’s complex, I laughed at myself for knowing this shit like I was the one who lived here. I had only been to her place once. She never knew because had I seen her that day, we wouldn’t have three years between us. It was a week after I was released from the hospital.
A week later she told me that being with me was too hard. Not even an hour after she told me she was carrying my seed, we pulled up at a spot to grab something to eat. The minute I rounded the car to let her out, two Bedford Boys noticed me and emptied a clip.
I threw Yahzi to the ground and turned, busting shots just as one caught me in my jaw. I got hit two more times, my shoulder and thigh, but still dropped both them muthafuckers.She miscarried our child that night. The doctors and Yahzi both swore that it didn’t have shit to do with what happened but I blamed myself. Deep down inside, I felt like she blamed me too. That was one of the major reasons why I let her go. We lost our child that night and I could have lost them both.
I was a selfish nigga with most things in my life but the one thing, or rather, person I would be selfless for was Yahzi. If having her happy, alive, and well meant not having her then the decision was made without hesitation. At least it had been back then because I wasn’t ready to pull back from the shit I had going on.
Things were different now. I was in a new space. Kassir had his son, which meant he was moving different, and I realized that some things were more important than being heavy in the streets. I was also a man of my word so I kept my distance from Yahzi but that shit was done. I told her the minute she opened that door again, I was not letting up or backing down.
Before I climbed out my ride, I reached under my seat and removed my gun. It met the small of my back while I made my way to her door. After I knocked and Yahzi’s face wasn’t what I laid eyes on when that bitch opened, I had my shit chambered and pressed against the forehead of a muthafucker I hoped was prayed up.
I didn’t even fucking care that six more were aimed at me when I backed him into Yahzi’s apartment. When I said my life for hers, I meant that shit.
“Who the fuck are you?” I growled, testing the trigger when my finger eased back a little.
“Nah, nigga, who the fuck are you?”
I smirked. “That’s not how this goes. I don’t have to know your name to empty this clip but you handing that shit over might give you the opportunity to survive.”
Might…
“We’re East Street Fam. You might want to drop yo’ shit before we drop you,” one of the little muthafuckers behind me said with too much bass in his voice.
“East Street?” I snorted and eased my hand into my pocket, removing my phone. “I suggest you tell them to stand the fuck down, ’cause if they shoot me, I’m taking you with me.”
“Ay, y’all be easy.” Ol’ boy’s eyes moved past me for a brief second.
Dude I had my gun on didn’t move. Ego or not, he didn’t want me to pull the trigger. I swiped through my contacts and hit one I had listed just for situations like this, made the call, and put it on speaker.
“Who the fuck is this?” was how he answered. I ignored his question and asked my own.
“This City?”
“Yeah, who the fuck is this?”
“Bank.”
I didn’t miss. If I had you in my line of fire, that shit was money in the bank. Hence the name the streets knew me by. Over the past three years that name hadn’t been spoken much because I was adamant about shifting things in my life. Kassir started pulling back when he had Kassan and I was on some fuck the world shit until everything went down with Yahzi.
“Bank?”
