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“Always.”
His mother continued making breakfast while YB walked out the kitchen to call Rufus back. The phone rang three times before Rufus answered with, “Nigga, where the fuck is you?”
“What the fuck, Rufus? You don’t know how to say good morning to a nigga?” YB spat back.
“Man, fuck a good morning! We got hit hard last night.”
“What the fuck you talkin’ about, nigga?”
“Nigga, I’m sayin’ we got a fuckin’ problem. Harlem shot up our spot last night, killed six muthafuckas outside of our spot and made it hot wit’ police activity and shit.”
“We got robbed?”
“Nigga, is you fuckin’ listening? Wasn’t shit taken, but police all up in our shit, investigating every fuckin’ thang,” Rufus exclaimed.
“Fuck me! Where are you?”
“Over at the rib shack on Chestnut.”
“Nigga, stay right there. I’ll be there in a minute.”
YB hung up and went back into the house. His mind was racing and he needed to concentrate on how to handle things. He walked into the kitchen where his mom was scrambling eggs and said, “Cancel breakfast, Ma. I gotta take care of some business.”
“You need to eat?”
“Not right now. I ain’t hungry.”
“What happened last night? Who was you on the phone with?”
“Listen, you know I don’t want you up in my street shit, Ma. You better off not knowing how shit gets down.”
“Yvonne, please be careful. I don’t wanna lose you like I lost your father.”
“I’m good, Ma. You ain’t gonna lose me. I promise you that. I love you.” He kissed her on the cheek and rushed out the door.
YB jumped into his truck and sped off. While driving down 54th Street, he decided to check his voice messages. The first few messages were unimportant and came from a few chicks he fucked with and some nigga named Jeff, who needed to see him about a cash transaction he needed done. He heard the one from Rufus and then he was shocked to hear the message that Magic left last night.
What the fuck happened last night? YB asked himself.
He knew that he needed to call Magic back right away. Magic picked up with an annoyed pitch. “Fuck you at, YB?”
“I was over at my mom’s crib. What’s up wit’ you?” YB asked.
“Nigga, what’s up wit’ me? You need talk to your fuckin’ cousin. He and his goons decided to run up into my spot last night with guns out, terrifying my chicks and my customers. He was lookin’ for Crown.”
“Magic, look, whatever happened—”
“Nigga, shut the fuck up and listen! Now, whatever beef you and that idiot cousin got going on with Crown, don’t bring that shit into my club. You fuckin’ hear me, YB? He disrespects me like that again and I’ll cut off his fuckin’ nuts and shove them into his fuckin’ mouth!”
“I’m gonna go talk to him, Magic. I’m gonna see what’s up, a’ight? I promise you—”
Before YB could finish saying what he had to say, Magic hung up. YB sighed and continued to Chestnut Street to have a serious word with his cousin.
He quickly pulled up behind Rufus’s truck and stepped out. YB spotted his cousin posted up on the Rib Shack, downing a forty sitting next to some bitch. YB approached him calmly and when he got close, he shouted, “Rufus, what the fuck you do last night?”
Rufus stared at his cousin “Nigga, where the fuck was you in the first place? I’m out here tryin’ to take care of business, and your ass is laid up somewhere.”
“Walk wit’ me nigga, we need to talk,” YB said. “What happened? And why the fuck did you run up in Magic’s spot like you were on some Terminator shit?” YB continued with him down the block.
