Dirty Little Angel

Sweet smiled and replied with, “I don’t know what I would have done if he killed you last night. I probably would have gutted that muthafucka fo’ real, Chaos. I’d be on some real suicide shit up in his crib.”

Chaos smiled. “I got your back and you got mine.”

They hugged each other tightly and knew that they had to come up with a plan to leave Crown. It was now or never for them.

14

YB woke up on his mother’s couch with his cell phone ringing near his ear. He sluggishly reached for his phone, but by the time he picked it up, it had stopped ringing. He sighed and tossed the phone on the floor and fell back against the couch, closing his eyes.

He had a slight hangover from drinking at Magic’s spot. It was his first hangover, and he hated how it felt. He thought about Rufus and his constant drinking and thought, How could a nigga go through this on the regular?

Instead of driving to his own place, he crashed on his mother’s couch for the night, since she was closer. He knew she wouldn’t mind.

YB was still in his clothing and didn’t want to get up, but his mother came down the stairs in her soft Turkish terry cloth robe and began opening the blinds to the living room. The bright morning sun beamed onto her son’s sleeping face. YB squinted and said, “Ma, why you doin’ this to me?”

“You need to get your ass up and off my couch and start your day already.”

YB tried to block the sun from his face. His mother opened more blinds, further irritating him. “You want breakfast?”

YB grunted, “Yeah, since you ain’t gonna let a nigga sleep.”

His mother smiled and walked into the kitchen. YB sat up and took a deep sigh. He looked at the time and saw that it was only fifteen minutes after ten. He sucked his teeth and looked for his phone.

He picked it up and saw that he had ten missed calls and had eight new voice messages.

“YB, what do you want for breakfast?” he heard his mother shout from the kitchen.

“I don’t care, Ma, anything is good. You know you can burn whatever in the kitchen. Shit, I’m in the mood for one of your home-cooked meals.”

“I’ll make you up some blueberry pancakes and bacon.”

“A’ight.”

YB stood, did a little stretch, and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He looked at his phone once again but decided he would check his messages later. He walked upstairs to the bathroom and took a much-needed piss.

When he was done, he looked at himself in the mirror and liked what he saw. Despite the scar across his face, he knew he was a handsome brother. He thought about what Chaos had said to him last night. YB had respect on the streets and was making some paper. How would look for him to have a woman like Chaos on his arm? Everyone knew what she did and she probably fucked some of the niggas that he had beef with. Then there was Crown and Harlem. He knew them two niggas were nothing to sleep on—but neither were he and Rufus. He knew Chaos was right; was he really serious enough about her to go down that road?

YB knew deep down that he and Chaos had something special brewing. She was the girl for him, but he cursed her for being a ho. “Probably in another city, or in another life,” YB said aloud as he continued to look at himself in the mirror.

“Yvonne, you need to answer your phone, it’s ringing down here,” his mother shouted from the foot of the stairs.

“A’ight, I’m coming.”

YB washed his face, brushed his teeth, and tried to make himself look fresh for the day. After he was done, he went back downstairs and into kitchen.

“Hey, Ma,” he greeted, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Morning. Here, take this thing. It’s been ringing and gettin’ on my damn nerves.” She handed him his phone.

YB took the phone and saw that Rufus had been calling him.

“Everything okay?” his mother asked.

“Yeah, everything’s good.”

“A’ight. I know it

’s your business when you be on them streets doin’ what you do but you watch your back out there.”