38

YB walked out of the bus station on Filbert and 10th Street with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He caught the nearest cab into the hood and was wary about being back in Philly after being gone for so many months. It was eating away at him that he had to run away from his troubles in the first place. He had unfinished business in Philly.

YB gave the cab driver his mother’s address. He peered at the streets of Philly from the backseat window. He knew he risked running into some serious danger, but he had his gun stashed in his duffel bag and the confidence that he could handle whatever came his way.

He was changing with the help of Danielle, but he felt in his gut that his peoples were in trouble. He didn’t want them to feel like he abandoned them when they needed him.

Twenty minutes later, the cab driver pulled in front of his mother’s address. Instantly, YB knew something was wrong. He noticed the unmarked police car parked in front of his mother’s home and bits and pieces of yellow police tape dangled from the house to the sidewalk. YB’s heart beat rapidly. He was ready to jump out of the cab without paying but the cab driver quickly shouted, “Where’s my fare?”

YB reached into his pocket and peeled off a fifty-dollar bill from a small knot of fifties and twenties. “Keep the change,” he said as he dashed out of the cab.

He rushed toward the house in a panic, knowing something terrible had to happen for police to be parked outside his mother’s crib.

“YB,” a young neighbor called out to him.

YB turned to see Shelly, a twenty-year-old friend who cared for Monica as a neighbor. They were like best friends despite their age difference. YB’s mother even wanted her son to hook up with Shelly, but YB felt guilty, knowing that he and Rufus murdered her boyfriend three years earlier over a drug corner. The murder was still being investigated and Shelly had no idea that the son of a neighbor and close friend had done the dirty deed.

Shelly walked across the manicured grass in a pair of denim shorts and a black tank top. “Shelly, what the fuck happened here?” YB asked apprehensively.

A sad look crossed Shelly’s smooth, caramel face. “You don’t know? Oh my God, you haven’t heard, have you?” Shelly asked softly.

“Where’s my mom?”

Shelly began to tear up again, knowing that she had to be the one to break the disturbing news to YB.

“YB, we need to talk,” she said.

“Nah, fuck that! I’m goin’ inside and lookin’ for my mom,” he shouted.

“YB, not here!” Shelly looked over at the police car. “Come over to my house.”

“Shelly, what the fuck is goin’ on?”

“They might be lookin’ for you and if you act out here, what the hell you gonna do when they lock your ass up? Just come wit’ me,” she said in low tone.

YB choked back tears. He knew that he wasn’t ready for the news she was about to tell him, but he followed Shelly to her place.

The cop looked up from reading his paper and glanced at the man following the young woman. He shrugged it off and went back to his paper.

Once inside Shelly’s home, she closed the door behind him and stared at YB. She hated to be the one to inform him about his mom.

“YB, I got somethin’ to tell you and you ain’t gonna like it,” she said.

“Shelly, don’t bullshit me or sugarcoat it. Just say what the fuck you gotta say.”

Shelly took a deep breath. “Your mother was murdered the other night. Some monster broke into her home and shot her in the head nine times.”

YB’s dark face tightened with anger but he couldn’t keep the hard image after hearing the news about his mother. Tears of grief flowed from his eyes and then he let out a loud scream that caught the attention of the cop parked outside. His knees buckled and he grabbed onto Shelly for support.

“What the fuck, yo? What the fuck?” he cried out.

Shelly fell down with him to the floor, holding onto the man that she once thought would be hers. She let his grief pour out onto her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, YB. You know she was like a mother to me too,” Shelly stated.

YB cried for a long time and Shelly tried to ease his grief the best she knew how. She asked him questions to take his mind off of his mother’s death. She inquired about his whereabouts over the past few months. He told Shelly that he was out of town with a woman, trying to stay cool and out of sight. He left out the name of the city and state because he didn’t trust anyone, especially after his mother’s murder. Shelly wasn’t happy with the news of him being with another woman since she’d loved him from the age of fourteen. Shelly offered to cook him something to eat, but YB wasn’t hungry. The only thing he was hungry for was revenge. She also told YB about Magic being murdered in his own club and YB knew that it was Harlem’s revenge for murdering Crown.

YB wanted to tear Harlem apart with his bare hands. For Harlem to do his mother that way made him sick to his stomach, and YB knew he would go medieval on him once he saw that murderer again.

YB remained with Shelly for a few hours because he needed to get his mind right. After he mourned for his mother, the killer in him came back out. He needed to get in contact with Rufus, knowing Rufus would be next on Harlem’s list. However, Rufus could handle himself.

YB wasn’t afraid that Harlem was looking for him. He wanted Harlem to find him and he wanted to destroy that muthafucka. It was war, and now it was personal.

He asked Shelly if he could borrow her car. He needed to get around the city and paying for cabs just wouldn’t do for him. She agreed but only if she could come along too. YB didn’t want her along, but it was her car and on her terms, so reluctantly he agreed. The two got into her dark blue Maxima and hit the streets of Philly.

YB eyes were bloodshot from crying and filled with hatred. Revenge was in his heart. He checked his gun and knew he needed more firepower to come at Harlem. He was ready to hit the street and hear who was saying what about the murders committed by Harlem.

He soon forgot about Danielle and her pregnancy, because his mind was wrapped up in revenge of the deaths of his mother and Magic. Somebody needed to pay, and someone had to die.