“I’ll see you at the burial. But remember what I said, if I don’t see you nomo’ after today.” I stepped out and walked to Hurricane’s black-on-black bulletproof Rolls Royce truck. I had a fly whip like his, but I was riding passenger because I had been drinking since I woke up.
We rode the streets of Southwave. We were smoking a blunt and blasting Coast’s favorite Future song while he did two miles an hour in the funeral procession. I had my black fitted hat low over my face with dark Dior shades covering my pain.
It was I who found Coast bleeding to death from a shot to the chest in his condo. It had been ten days since he been gone, andit took the feds forever to release his body. We still hadn’t found his killer, and I hadn’t been sleeping since. I wasn’t resting either until I found out who it was. Coast was a good nigga, loyal to the soil, and he had the key to the plug.Now, he was gone.
We made it to the burial and put my nigga in the ground with his jewelry and ten dozen roses. As they tossed dirt on his chrome casket, Hurricane pulled me and our crew to the side.
“I just wanted to touch base as a team because once we leave this graveyard, it’s back to business. As y'all know, I’m in charge now, since I was the one that held this shit on my back with Coast since day one, and he–”
I cut off Hurricane from speaking before he got on his soapbox.
“Carried this shit on yo’ back since day one? You must not see me standing here.” I raised my eyebrow.
Hurricane chuckled. “You know what I mean, nigga.”
“Nah, I don’t know what you mean. To make shit clear, I don’t fall under you, I don’t stand behind you, and I only stand next to you. You try to lil’ nigga me, it’s gon’ be issues between brothers.”
We had a brief stare down before he spoke.
“We gon’ talk later, bro. I’m addressing our workers, and you know that.” I heard the trembling in his voice, almost causing me to laugh. He knew nothing anyone said went over my head.
Before I could respond to him, Yummi intervened.
“I don’t mean to interrupt real nigga hour. I just wanted to say that I’ve decided to move to Starlight Hills in Colorado. I need a fresh start where I don’t know anybody and can pursue my career as a fashion designer. I don’t think I can stay in Sable Cove, especially Southwave, without my big brother.” Yummi looked down at her polished black toenails in her gold YSL stilettos.
“You know you ain’t gotta do that. We talked about this yesterday. Whatever you need, I got you,” I assured her.
Yummi and I were gang. She pushed weight with me to The Shadows when everybody else was scared. It had been a couple years she had been my partner, so her leaving the city had a nigga feeling uneasy.
“Nah, I got her, and she ain’t moving. She is just emotional right now.” Hurricane pulled Yummi to his side by her waist like she was his Glock.
Hurricane knew he wasn’t supposed to be pushing up on our big homie’s baby sis. He was ready to fuck her before his man’s was peacefully in the ground. I saw the nervous look in her eyes, but I didn’t speak about the situation. I wasn’t a hater and didn’t get in a grown man’s business, but I was going to keep an eye on their relationship. I knew how Hurricane was when it came to women. Yummi wasn’t that kind of girl. She was about her money, but she lived a soft ass life.
Hurricane toned down his ego and then laid out his plan for the first quarter of our journey without Coast. He pulled me to the side when he was done. We got in his whip and re-sparked the blunt.
“I ain’t mean nothing by that back there. You know you a top dog, and I would never treat you less than,” he spoke sincerely. I let my guard down and talked to him like the brother he was to me.
“I appreciate you clearing that up. We all we got right now, so we can’t be beefing.”
“I know. You my brotha for life, and you the only nigga I can come to about some real shit. So with that being said, I need a loan, bro. Child support on my ass, and they trying to lock me up.” He ran his hands down his face and shook his head. I saw the stress on his face.
“Damn, how much you need?”
“A million, my nigga.”
“A million? You ain’t got that?” I turned up my nose. A million in child support sounded unreal, but I rocked with his story.
“Hell nah, that’s why I’m anxious about going hard. Them six kids are breaking me.”
Niggas knew when it came to money, I had it. Outside of the operation I ran with Hurricane and Coast, I had a few legit businesses around the city that sat my bank account at six million. I didn’t need the underworld, but the streets were an addiction. I told myself now that my boy was gone, I was going to focus on going legit, finding myself a woman, and having a few kids. I was twenty-nine, rich, single, and had no kids. It was time to take my mother's advice, and that was to get my affairs in order.
“Man, that’s a big ass loan, but if you need it, I got you. I need my shit back though.”
“I got you. I’m going to pay you every penny once my money starts flowing. Losing Coast was a big loss. We lost a lot of money taking off and lying low for ten days.”
“Yeah, we did. Like I said, I got you, but I can’t pull all that money at once. Feds will be on my ass, and I don’t need that, so give me a few days.”
“No rush and good lookin’, bruh.”
