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I looked around, making sure that customers and the other workers weren’t looking at me before I said this next thing to them. I only wanted them to hear me when I said this shit. I was about to get unprofessional for a second.

I dropped the pendant down on the display case, leaned forward a little bit, keeping my eyes on all of them.

“Ay, I don’t know what kind of jack boys ya’ll are, who ya’ll used to taking shit from and going on to tell about it, but I can tell ya’ll right now that ya’ll stole from the wrong one. I made this fuckin pendant, along with the rest of the pendants that’s right in front of me. Sold every piece of jewelry right here to the same customer. I don’t know when ya’ll took this shit, I don’t even know how ya’ll took it. All I got to say is that ya’ll better find a way to put it the fuck back!” I snapped, all that big brother shit that I had originally been doing, going out of the window. This shit was serious now, and I needed them to feel me.

“Man, we ain’t come here for a fuckin lecture. We’ll take this shit to somebody else to buy it off us,” one of them said, and they quickly started scraping the jewelry, placing it in the clear bags.

I could have stopped them. I could have told these young niggas to leave it and get the fuck out of my store without it, but I didn’t. I could tell that they were the kind of dudes that you couldn’t tell shit to, so I was going to allow them to walk out of here with that shit and learn that very hard lesson.

Before they walked out though, I wanted to leave them with something.

“I know Oso personally. I’ve done business with him for years. Keep his shit, and I guarantee you that all of ya’ll will give ya’ll families something to do next weekend. I hope you lil niggas got life insurance,” that was all I had to say to them.

Most of them had looks on their faces as if my words shook them up a little bit. The only one that was still standing there trying to play tough was the light skin one.

The nigga they took from was a street nigga dude named Oso. Oso started coming to my shop about a couple of years ago, copping jewelry from me. He’s spent millions in here. He was one of those men who was brought up in the drug game. The shit went back generations. Every man in his family before him had run the drug operation. He was up next, taking over years ago and running it ever since.

Oso was forty years old. I’ve heard some of the craziest stories about this man. Just a couple of years ago, some lil niggas tried to rob him, and it was just him against the three of them. Killed all three of those niggas and had their heads sitting on their parents porch within the next few hours. That’s why I told the lil niggas that were in front of me that if they didn’t give Oso back his shit, they would be giving their families something to do next weekend. Without a doubt, he would kill them over this.

Oso was running one of the biggest drug operations right now out of Miami. He was a true stone-cold killer. He was the kind of man that had heavy protection, and that’s why I have no understanding how they were able to take all his jewelry like that. Then, they were so fuckin stupid that they were trying to sell the shit back to me when I was the one that sold it to Oso. It’s no way they thought that plan through. No fuckin way.

I let them run out of the store, and once they were out, a few of the employees came over to me, wanting to know what happened. I explained it to them, and that was it.

I only stuck around the store for a few minutes more. My workers will close the store down for me tonight.

My car was parked right in front of the shop, so I was able to quickly hop in. As I pulled out, I sent a text to Kingston, letting him know that I was on my way to his crib. He texted back, telling me that work went over, and that he would be home in probably two hours or so. He let me know that Mya was there with the kids, and our mom was there, so I was free to pull up. I knew my brother well enough to know that his ass was lying. He didn’t have to stay late. That business was flooded with workers. Whatever he couldn’t do, my brothers were there to handle it. I’m sure he was somewhere laid up with a bitch. You would think that after witnessing our pops get shot the fuck up by our mother, that it would have him changing his old ways, but I guess not. He was still going to move sloppily like he’s been doing.

I pulled up to his house about fifteen minutes later. If he wasn’t the kind of man to go around cheating on his wife, I would have pulled up to his crib, and allowed what was in front of me to be goals. There driveway was flooded with cars that only belonged to him, and Mya. The thing is, Mya had more cars than him. Every time the nigga gets caught fuckin around, he goes overboard with the guilt gifts that he gets for his wife. I wanted to have a driveway like this for me, and my wife, but I didn’t want all her whips to be guilt gifts. I wanted them to be just because whips, birthday whips, Christmas whips, and things like that.

I pulled into the driveway, shut the car off, and stepped out. Making it over to the front door, I went ahead and rang the doorbell. It took a few seconds, and the door eventually opened from the inside. It was my oldest nephew Malik standing there with his Nintendo controller in his hands. He paused the game, and his face lit up once he saw me. Seeing the way his face lit up made me feel a little guilty because I wasn’t the uncle to pull up on my nephews, and niece every single day. I was always on the move with work. Any time they called me though or texted me, asking me for something, I would do it.

“What’s up Uncle Wolf? I didn’t know you were coming over here. You trying to get on the game with me? Let’s play Madden,” he offered the second he opened the door, and saw that it was me on the other side.

I pulled my nephew into me, roughing through his curls a little bit, and kissed the top of his head.

“Give me a minute. Let me talk with Emaye for a little bit. What you been up to? Where your mama at?” I asked him, closing the door behind me.

Out of respect for their home, and how clean it was in here, I removed my shoes, leaving them by the door.

“I just finished my homework not too long ago. My mom is in the kitchen cooking dinner,” he told me.

His young ass asked me a million and one questions as we did a quick walk to the kitchen. When we walked in, Monroe was sitting at the table, finishing his homework. Maleah was right there next to him, coloring. Mya stood in the kitchen, cooking dinner just like Malik told me she was doing. The second Monroe and Maleah saw me walk in the kitchen, they immediately stopped what they were doing and took off in my direction.

Maleah’s little ass got to me first. I picked her up, as she wrapped her little legs around me, and her one arm around my neck. She held onto me like she was proud that I was her uncle.

“What’s up Uncle Wolf? Where my chain at? You said that when you saw me the next time that you were going to bring me a chain,” Monroe said, never forgetting shit that was promised to him.

Him and Malik acted just like their daddy. Talked a lot of shit, always in the middle of something, and even though they were young, they already mastered having a lot of girls and knowing how to lie to them. Both Kingston’s sons were going to be something else once they got older. They looked up to men like their pops, and granddad, so I had no doubt that they would grow up and probably be just like them.

“Man, let me get a hug or something before you come in here talking about a chain,” I said it to him in a playful way, even though I was being dead ass.

He hugged me, and I kissed the top of his head just like I’d done with my other nephew. When we pulled away, I slapped it up with him, and there he was, asking about the chain again. I promised him that I was going to pick him up over the weekend, bring him to the shop with me, and let him pick up whatever chain he wanted.

During that interaction, Mya stood by the stove, turning her body, so she could watch the whole thing unfold. There was a smile on her face, as she watched me bond with her kids. Malik and Monroe were standing here, still questioning me, while Maleah had her arms still wrapped around me, clinging onto me, with no plans of ever letting me go.

“Mya, what’s good? How you feeling?” I asked her, leaving the boys for a second, so I could walk over and hug my sister-in-law.

When we pulled away from the hug, she had that drained look on her face that she would often have whenever I was around her. She looked to be carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Being married to a man like my brother wasn’t easy. Then, Kingston wasn’t the kind of pops where he was hands on with the kids. That was Mya’s job. It reminded me of my mom when we were kids. Our pops wasn’t hands on with us. Our mother handled that, and this same drained look that Mya was sporting was the same look that I’ve seen my mom sport on plenty occasions.