I stared at him. "You for real right now?"
"Dead ass."
"Bae…" Yah-Yah tried to interject.
Bae
"Nah, you said when the time right, tell him. Shit, time's right as it's gon' get." Sosa looked at me dead in my eyes. "I fuck with your sister heavy, bruh. Real shit. I ain't playin’ no games."
I looked at Yah-Yah. "When was you gon' tell me?"
"I was tryna figure out how," she said quietly. "I just didn’t want you to flip the fuck out."
"Flip out? Yah-Yah, you know what we been through."
Her face shifted and I could see the pain flashing across it. We didn't talk about our parents much. The shit was too heavy. I raised Yah-Yah and Mya, I did what I had to do in these streets so she could have a life. They were the only family I had left, andthe thought of losing her, to anything, or to anyone made my chest tight.
"That's why I ain't say nothin'," Yah-Yah said, her voice stronger now. "Because you can't let me breathe. I'm twenty-seven years old, Yatta. Not seven. I can make my own choices."
"I know that—"
"Do you?" She stepped forward. "'Cause ever since mama... ever since that day, you been tryna protect us from every damn thing. And I love you for it. I do. But I need you to trust me. And trust that you raised me right."
That hit me different. I felt my jaw working, trying to find words that wouldn't come.
Sosa cleared his throat. "Look, my nigga. I respect you. I respect what you been through, what you did for your sisters. That's why I wanted to be straight up wit' you. I ain't on no snake shit. Yah-Yah mean somethin' to me."
I looked between them, the way he had his hand on her back, protective. The way she was looking at him.
"How long this been goin' on?" I asked.
"'Bout a week," Sosa said. "We’ve been vibing with each other for a minute though. She been comin' through the club, we been choppin' it up. This just... happened."
"Happened, huh?" I repeated.
"Yeah. And look, I know how this look, especially wit' the timin' and all that. But I ain't out here playin' wit' her. I ain't that type of nigga, you know that."
I did know that. Sosa ran his business tight, kept his word, moved with respect. That's why we'd been able to do business. He was solid.
I let out a long breath, rubbing my hand over my face.
"Man..."
"You gon' shoot me or we good?" Sosa asked, and there was the slightest hint of humor in his voice. I shot him a look.
"Aye bruh, don't play wit' me right now."
"I'm just sayin'. I know you stay strapped, so I figured I should know if I need to duck or not."
Despite everything, I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. This nigga had balls, I'd give him that.
"You hurt her," I said, my voice dead serious, "and we gon' have a problem. I don't give a fuck how much bread we done made together."
"On my mama, I would never," Sosa said, his tone matching mine.
I held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
"Aight. We good then."
