Dirty Little Angel

As YB rushed into the supply room, he thought it was stupid for Rufus to re-open the stash house on Brown Street after the murders on the block by Harlem; but that problem was the least on his mind.

YB entered the room to see a half-dozen teenage girls packaging the H for street distribution by stamping “Devil’s Play” on the glassine envelopes that flooded the production table. They were in their underwear and were focused on the product, while Ray-Lo talked on his cell phone a short distance away.

He turned to see YB in the room and said to the caller, “Yo, let me call you back. Somethin’ important came up.”

He hung up his call and approached YB with an uneasy stare. “Yo, YB! Nigga, you know I’m down for whatever. Rufus was like family to me. You know who did it? Probably those niggas from Diamond Avenue, still beefing over Shyfe Lyfe gettin’ killed over here a while back.”

“Nigga, I know who’s responsible,” YB said.

“Who, nigga?” Ray-Lo was eager to know.

“Harlem.”

“That nigga? I’m tired of hearing ’bout this faggot-ass nigga! You think he got to Rufus like that? One man?”

“I need guns,” YB said.

Ray-Lo smiled. “So we on the hunt now? A’ight, you know I’m down, my nigga.”

YB nodded and they both gave each other dap and then embraced in a manly hug. The team was dying out and both men knew that they only had each other left. Ray-Lo was tired of hearing about Harlem having Philly locked down with fear. He wanted his reputation to ring out like that and he knew that taking out Harlem—one of the most notorious killers in Philly—would definitely step his reputation up in the streets.

For YB, it was more personal than having a reputation in the streets. Harlem murdered his cousin, his mentor, and did his mom dirty with nine shots to the head. A man like that had to be put under, even if meant sending himself to the grave.

What worried YB was if Harlem could get close to his mom like that then there was no telling what other information he had on his personal life. Then he thought about Danielle and her being alone in New York. It made sense for Harlem to track his shorty down in NY for revenge—but to do that, he would need to find someone who may have known where she was.

He and Ray-Lo packed some guns in the trunk of the car and raced off toward Delaware, with YB praying that they’d make it in time.

44

Wilmington is at the north end of Delaware and about a forty-minute drive from Philadelphia. Wilmington is a prime location because it’s geographically centered between Philly and Baltimore. It’s where people go to settle down when they’re tired of the city life.

It was a temperate, serene morning and the suburban, tree-lined street, West Lea Boulevard was the new home for Bubbles, Danielle’s cousin. She’d been living in Delaware for about a year and loved her new life, which included her new house and her new job as a nurse at a nearby hospital. She always wished that her younger cousin could have obtained the life that she now had, but Bubbles knew that Danielle had to change certain things about herself first.

Bubbles, whose real name was Karen Little, hadn’t spoken to Chaos in almost a year. Bubbles did miss her cousin, but she had her own life to live and her own worries to deal with. She didn’t miss Philly much, especially with the crime being up. Plus, there were things about her past that she wanted to forget. So she moved to Delaware, where she met a guy, fell in love, and was planning to have a family. Her life had definitely changed for the better.

A dark blue Yukon was parked discreetly under a giant oak tree, a few feet from Bubbles’s home. Harlem and Crown were inside the truck.

Crown was in top shape again and trying to get back on track with his pimping and running shit in the streets again. He had his bottom bitch Cherish by his side along with Casper, but Midnight had flown the coop. She moved back to her hometown in Kentucky a few weeks after the shooting.

Crown had to restock his hoes again and get that money right. After he was finished dealing with YB and Chaos, he would be back out there once more on the streets, pimping his chicks even harder this time. He was full of rage and clenched his teeth and fists every time he thought about that bitch Chaos and YB.

He sat in the passenger seat of the Yukon with a .380. He wore a black and white tracksuit and had his head shaved bald, which was a different look for him. Losing the braids and the perm made his image look harder, more thugged out. He’d lost a little weight but was slowly regaining it. He had scars on his chest from where the doctors performed surgery and some nights, it was hard for him to sleep. But Crown felt satisfied to know that Harlem took care of the majority of his troubles. He watched the news about Rufus’s murder. The media said it was one of the most gruesome killings that the city had ever seen, next to that of YB’s mother. It gave Crown some satisfaction to know that they were close to wiping out everyone who was involved with or connected to YB.

Morning crept gradually over the neighborhood. The information that the two men had was viable—money got you whatever you wanted, and knowing the right people in the game allowed them to find where Bubbles was living her new life.

Crown definitely remembered Bubbles since her thick, curvy figure and voluptuous tits could make a nigga cum just on sight alone. Bubbles was a beautiful woman and three years ago, Crown had her working a corner for him. Like Chaos, she had been fresh out of New York, looking for a chance to make some serious money for herself. Crown was there to talk her young ass into the game. She sold crack and pussy for Crown in the early days and at night she was Crown’s personal play thing. Her pussy was so good that it was on the same level with Cherish.

Bubbles had two miscarriages by Crown because he beat the babies out of her when he found out that she was pregnant. When Crown got locked up, she found a way to escape his grip and restart her own life. She was one of the fortunate ones to escape from Crown.

Crown smiled at the thought of seeing Bubbles again.

“It’s been a long time,” he said to Harlem. “She was definitely one of the baddest bitches that I had on the block.”

Harlem nodded. “Word.”

“Yeah, her body was ridiculous. Shit, it’s hard to find a good ho like that today. Bitch always had my money right, ya know? And that pussy was like muthafuckin’ platinum baby! Shit, put that bitch on a street corner and moments later, it would be paved wit’ gold; that’s how lucrative that pussy was on the block. Bubbles had niggas lined up for blocks just to get wit’ her. The bitch was somethin’ else,” Crown proclaimed with a smirk on his face. “Now I see this bitch is wannabe Suzie muthafuckin’ Homemaker . . . tryin’ to live like the Brady Bunch.”

Harlem just sat patiently and listened. He looked at the time and saw that it was five-thirty in the morning. “Yo, you ready to do this? The sun is comin’ up all the way soon,” Harlem said.