Page 17 of Suleem and Yahzi (D-Ville Projects #1)

A year after Yahzi was born, that muthafucker got what he deserved. Someone pulled up on him at a traffic light and sprayed his car. When Yahzi turned fourteen, her mother was still fighting the habit and ended up copping some shit that fucked her up bad. Yahzi had been on her own since then.

If her father wasn’t already dead I would have snatched his soul for what he took from my baby. The only thing I could do now was make sure she was good and I would give my last to ensure she was. Yahzi was just gonna have to learn to not hide from me so I could do that.

I shot Kassir a text letting him know what was up and that we would be missing the reception. He hit me back letting me know to hit his line if we needed anything before I locked my phone and dropped my head back, prepared to ride this shit out.

The block party was thick. This shit started small but over the years it damn near tripled in body count for attendance. I had to show my face but didn’t plan on being here all day.

After last night I was tired as fuck. It was after three in the morning when we made it back to the crib.

They tried to kick us out at eight, when visiting hours ended, but I worked it out for her to stay as long as she wanted.

She needed the time with her mother and my job was to give Yahzi whatever she needed.

I was leaned against my ride, a 1987 Grand National GNX.

Shit was rare, mint condition, and I wrapped the body in a charcoal gray with a matte finish.

My rims were clean and the interior had been customized to match the wrap.

My shit was sexy. Some of the other DP members pulled up in their classics too and had them parked on the block.

Today was more or less a flex. The kids loved to sit in them and we liked to put our shit on display.

From where I was posted up, I had a good vantage point to see most of the block.

Yahzi was with my aunt by the DJ booth smiling and dancing.

Some viral social media shit my aunt didn’t have any damn business doing but Yahzi was teaching her.

They were both doing too fucking much but Yahzi was smiling, and after experiencing her stressed last night over her mother, she needed a minute to just be.

Today was a good day so I was gonna let them live.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to accept that my nigga Bank is all in love and shit because that ruins my optimism about being a player for life.”

I smirked at Kove’s words and yanked at my beard, keeping my eyes on Yahzi for a minute longer before I turned his way and extended a closed fist which he met with his.

“Make that make sense, nigga.”

He locked his arms over his chest and grinned. “You’re my blueprint. If this is what your life looks like, then this might be me in another decade or two.”

“A decade or two ? Muthafucker, how old do you think I am?”

Kove chuckled and shrugged. “Shit, I don’t know, thirty-five, maybe forty. Your ass lives like a gotdamn senior citizen. You don’t be in the streets anymore and you barely show your face outside the shop.”

“I’m thirty-two. Damn, not that fucking old. That shit is called maturity.” I chuckled but his words lowkey killed my high.

“I mean, shit, that’s close enough.” He shrugged and I shook my head.

YaaKov would graduate from CFU in the fall so he was young as hell in age but wise beyond his years.

He was DP but lowkey with his shit. His older brother Yoel had been DP since a year after we created our legacy but Yoel was with the shits and a shooter.

The only reason Kove joined was because he wanted to ball in our league a few years ago.

I ran that shit by Kassir and we agreed to let him be the exception and ball for DP without the tag but he refused.

He didn’t want a pass so he got inked and started running with our people. He kept his hands clean though.

The only thing Kove pushed was a ball down the court.

Everyone expected him to get drafted because he was talented as hell.

It wouldn’t be first round because he was a street baller, with raw talent and more finesse than his coaches respected.

He put points on the board, secured wins, and embarrassed their All-American players; so they tolerated him.

He walked on at CFU and came off the bench all four years but had the highest stats of anyone on their roster.

Not one fucking dime of scholarship money was offered but we made sure his tuition was covered.

In return, he kept our pockets laced by winning the streetball tournament for the team we sponsored.

Between YaaKov and Tariq, not a damn soul could fuck with the D-ville Ballerz.

“Aight, nigga, chill.” He grinned. “The streets have been whispering about your ass too.”

“The fuck you mean?”

“That’s what I mean.” He pointed at Yahzi. “Got these hoes out here having secret meetings and shit to lean on each other for opportunities lost.”

“Nah, they’re good.”

“Aight, keep thinking that shit. These hoes really thought they had a chance and you’re out here being a dream killer now that your girl is back.”

I chuckled and glanced at my baby. Kove was exaggerating but he wasn’t exactly lying. I had a few of them hit me up in search of understanding about why Yahzi was getting treatment they couldn’t. It was funny to me because whether she was home or not, they never would have been in her position.

My eyes were on Yahzi again as Rebel walked up and hugged her.

I looked around for Kassir, knowing he was gonna lose his shit when he pulled up because of what she had on.

I chuckled, already knowing she was on a mission to piss him off.

Rebel knew how Kassir came behind her. Her flex was gonna end badly for all parties involved. My boy wasn’t about to play with her.

Yahzi tried me on the same shit this morning with some little ass shorts and a tube top thing she called a shirt.

Wasn’t no fucking way I was letting her outside with her body on display.

She was currently in a Lampin’ and Lux tee that she cut the sleeves and bottom off, talking about she was still gonna be cute with my hatin’ ass.

I only agreed because I had my head between them thick thighs and fucked her twice before we left my spot to come out here.

“I’m not responsible for these hoes’ unrealistic expectations but you ready for the tournament?”

“That’s light work. I stay ready to ball.” He was arrogant as hell. Maybe I was his blueprint.

“Good because we got heavy stacks on that win.”

“Ain’t nothing, I got y’all.”

“What’s going on with the draft? You gonna be in the lineup?”

A scowl settled on his face and a hand brushed over his head. “I don’t know ’bout that shit. They’re not really fucking with me like that. A few people reached out to see what I was gonna do but you know how that shit goes.”

“Royals?”

“Yeah, some lady though. Said she’s part owner. Wants to set up a meeting but I’m not really feeling it.”

I removed a blunt from behind my ear and a lighter from my pocket and blazed up.

As soon as I inhaled and the smoke filled my lungs, I nodded, processing his words.

Kove was a baller; it was in him. Same way gang shit and these streets were in my blood, being on the courts was in his.

He just didn’t want to be disappointed. That’s how shit went for us out here.

“Ay, don’t count that shit out.”

“I’m not.”

I pulled from my blunt again, tilted my head back, and released the smoke with a cocky grin. “Yes the fuck you are. If this is what you want, take it. Don’t wait for them to hand that shit over, and whatever you need, you know we got you. That’s on gang. Cradle to the casket.”

He nodded and smirked. “Cradle to the casket.”

Kove pushed off the side of my car. “Let me go see what I can get into out here before I take my ass home.”

The smile on his face told me everything I needed to know. He was trying to find someone to fuck.

“Strap up, nigga. Don’t get caught slipping.”

He laughed and brushed a hand over his head. “Yeah, your ass is old. Out here sounding like my absentee father and shit.”

I grinned and pulled from my blunt. “Gotta look out for the youth.”

We dapped, and after he was gone, my eyes were on Yahzi. Just in time to see her dropping and circling her hips before she was up with a big ass smile on her face which brought one to mine. Seeing her back here in my world made me understand the simplicity of how life worked.

Love made you patient. For the past three years I employed patience to let Yahzi heal from the destruction I caused in her life.

As much as I wanted to be the resolution for any troubles in her world, I had to understand that I couldn’t be the problem and the solution.

But because I loved her, I was patient enough to give her the space and time she needed.

I was also an arrogant nigga. My confidence was never lacking.

She was mine from the first time I blessed her body and experienced the way her soul poured into mine.

The distance had always been temporary, there was never a fucking doubt in my mind that she would be back in my life, in my care, mine to love, worship, and protect.

She must have felt me watching her because Yahzi lifted her head and smiled softly. She said something to my aunt then pointed in my direction. When my aunt rolled her eyes, I chuckled, watching as she moved in one direction while Yahzi was on her way to me.

As soon as she stepped between my legs and locked her arms around my waist, I kissed her forehead.

“You cool?”

“Yep, are you?”

I pulled from my blunt, bent my neck, and blew the smoke in her mouth before I kissed her. “Yeah, I’m cool.”

She turned against my body, placing her back to my chest. My arm hung loosely around her neck. “It’s so different than it used to be.”

“What you mean?”