Street Soldier 2 by Silhouettes Page A

and yo’ mama ain’t got it like we used to.”
    â€œI already gave Mama some money. If you need some, why don’t you just ask her?”
    â€œBecause she ain’t here right now. She left yesterday and told me she would be back later. I’m sure she’ll be back later today or tomorrow, but even when she does come back, she don’t have the kind of money I need right now. If you let me hold ’bout ten Gs, I’ll be sure to get it back to you as soon as I can.”
    I hesitated, only because Raylo had never done much for me. He’d been in my life since I was eleven years old, and all I ever saw him do was drink, smoke weed, cheat on my mother, and kick her ass. I knew Mama loved him, though, but I didn’t feel right giving his ass no money. I also knew that if Mama needed it, she would ask. She never had any problems asking me for anything, and if the ten Gs weren’t going to benefit her, then my answer was a big fat no.
    â€œMan, things kind of tight, and I ain’t got that kind of money right now. If you would have said a couple of hundred, maybe. But ten Gs is a lot for me to give up.”
    Raylo’s face twisted, just that fast. “Nigga, you know you got it. I said I’d give it back. I got myself in a li’l jam that I need to get out of. I thought we were like family and I really ain’t got no other place to turn right now.”
    I stretched, then yawned. “I repeat; I ain’t got it right now. And even if I did, I’m not sure if I’d want to help you with your so-called jam. Tryin’ to save my dollars, and if I keep on givin’ when I ain’t got, then I’ll be without. Tell Mama to hit me up later. I gotta go.”
    â€œYou’s a stingy-ass motherfucka, Prince. I’ve taken care of you since you were ten or eleven and when yo’ whack-ass daddy didn’t want shit to do with you, I stepped in. I have never asked your punk ass for nothin’ and now that you keepin’ a li’l change in yo’ pockets, you actin’ all high and mighty like you can’t help a nigga who paved the way for you. That’s some cold shit, bruh, but I’m not gon’ kiss yo’ ass. Just remember that you may need me one day. I’m gon’ turn my back on you, like you just did me.”
    My eyes shot daggers at Raylo, because he was a damn liar, claiming he paved the way for me. How? I wanted to cuss his ass out, but realized he wasn’t worth my time. Just like my deadbeat father, Raylo wasn’t nothing to me. If anything, taking his path would have led me straight to hell. I wasn’t trying to go there. Instead of saying all of that, I snickered and shook my head before walking away. Raylo hated when people didn’t stoop to his level, and ignoring him was always the wrong route to take. Before my hand touched the doorknob, he already had the back of my shirt gripped in his hand. He shoved me toward the living room so hard that I almost fell. Weighing every bit of 180 pounds, I could never go toe-to-toe with Raylo, who was nearly twice my size. My Glock could but, unfortunately for me, it was in my car.
    â€œMan, I’m not goin’ here with you today,” I said, shaking off my anger and taking a few steps toward the door.
    He shoved me back again, then pointed his finger at me. “Don’t you walk away from me when I’m speakin’ to you, nigga! You ain’t that damn grown, and who in the hell do you think you are, talkin’ to me like I ain’t shit? I will kick yo’ ass, boy, then call the police to tell them you broke into my house! And when I tell them you were the one who killed—”
    Threatening to snitch on me was not the direction to take. My forehead swelled with wrinkles and my teeth gritted. “You do what you have to do, punk! But remember, yo’ rap sheet is much longer than mine. I got mega shit on you, too, so