Young-Love

CHAPTER 6: ROSCOE'S POV

They say you never forget your first ride-or-die.

Andre Youngblood was mine.

From the sandbox to the streets, we was tighter than blood. Slept on the same pissy mattresses, skipped school together, stole candy from the corner bodega when we was ten. Back then, we had nothing—except each other.

And now he’s gone. Just like that.

One bullet. One f****d-up call. One second of being in the wrong place, doin’ the wrong job... and he’s gone.

And I brought him into that s**t.

I’m the reason he stepped foot into the five families' world. Told him we’d make bread—fast. Told him it was just a few runs, some easy pickups, no heat. Told him Zuri would live in a mansion, not them roach-infested Queensbridge cribs. Told him we’d be out before forty with our own real estate and respect.

But that was a lie. Or maybe a dream I had no business sellin'.

I held his body, felt the weight leave him like a whisper in the wind. That moment... it don’t leave you. You feel it in your bones. You hear it in your sleep.

I shoulda not made that call. Bet he’d be at Queens High supporting Zuri like he wanted. Bet he’d still be alive. Fuuuck!!! Hell, I shoulda taken that damn bullet.

Now all that’s left is Zuri.

That girl… she don’t even know what’s comin’. She don’t know her pops took a slug for tryin’ to make her life better. For tryin’ to be present.

And I can’t even tell her the truth.

How you look a 14-year-old girl in the eye and say, “Your dad got capped for shootin’ the boss’ son”?

You don’t. You lie.

I told her it was a g**g fight. Wrong time, wrong corner, wrong crew. She stared at me long and hard—like she knew it didn’t add up—but she didn’t say nothin’. Just nodded, real slow. Wiped her face. Said, “Knew it’d be the streets that took him.”

That broke me all over again.

Her mom? Man, don’t even get me started on that white devil. Ain’t never given a s**t ‘bout Zuri. Been more concerned with vodka and scratch cards than raisin’ a daughter. Andre raised Zuri solo, even when he was in the streets. Even when he was behind bars. He was her mom, dad, protector, teacher, all that.

Now she got nobody.

Except me.

So, I did the only thing I could. I took over. Not officially—not yet—but I let her stay with me and Kiki. Least I could do for her, Dre was more than a brother to me. I cooked her dinner, made space in the backroom. Girl been quiet as a mouse since the news. But I see it. In her walk. In her eyes. Same fire Dre had. Same cold rage behind the silence.

Zuri’s alone now. But I ain’t gonna let her fall.

I owe Dre that much.

Maybe more.

She’s family. And in this world? Blood ain’t the only thing that binds you.

Sometimes loyalty cuts deeper than DNA.

So, I’m here now. Standing in the ashes of my best friend’s death, lookin’ at the kid he left behind—and I’m sayin’ this to the universe, to God, to whoever the hell is listenin':

I got you, Zuri.

I got you.

Even if it means putting my life on the line.

It has been hours since the docks. Hours since I watched my best friend bleed out like a broken man under Malik Lovereign’s cold stare. I thought I was numb. Thought I’d cried my last tear back when we were kids, holdin’ each other down in the projects. But Andre? He was more than a brother. He was the last real nigga I got.

‎I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Kiki kept tryin’ to talk to me, but every word felt like static. My head wasn’t with her. It was on Zuri. That girl’s eyes haunted me—wide, hollow, holdin’ a storm that no fourteen-year-old should have to carry

So, I decided to check on her.

Grabbed a paper bag of takeout from Miss LaToya’s down the block—Zuri liked the fried catfish and rice from there—and made my way up the stairs. My knees creaked more than the damn boards. I had no idea how to start the conversation, didn’t know if she’d even talk to me. I just knew I couldn’t let her starve herself in grief.

I reached for the doorknob, turned it quietly.

What I saw inside made my heart stop.

Zuri. Knees pulled in. Sittin’ cross-legged on the old floorboard.

A revolver in her hand.

And I watched her pull the trigger.

Click.

No bang. But that sound was enough to make me yell, “ZURI!"

I flew across the room, my boots barely hittin’ the floor, and yanked the g*n from her hands. She didn’t even resist. Just sat there, eyes glossy and red.

“That's five outta six empty chambers I pulled,” she whispered. Her voice was dead flat. No tremble. No shake. Just... hollow. “Last one would've joined me with Dad.”

I stared at the g*n, opened the chamber. One bullet sat right there. One more pull, and my best friend’s daughter would’ve been gone.

I couldn’t breathe. “What the f**k is wrong with you, Zuri?! You tryin’ to die?”

Her voice cracked this time. “Ain’t nobody else left. My mom don’t give a damn. You ain’t my real family. My dad was the only person who ever gave a f**k about me.”

I sat down beside her, hand still clutchin’ the g*n like it could jump back to life.

“I got the scholarship for him. I played hard today, every sweat drop down my face today was for my pops. To put him in a damn mansion with a marble bathtub and a chef cookin’ his meals. Now what? I'm supposed to smile and wave and act like he ain’t in a fuckin' body bag?”

“Zuri—”

“I'm done! I ain't goin' to that bougie-a*s school with their fake-a*s teachers and clean-a*s bathrooms! I’m droppin' out. f**k that scholarship and f**k school.”

I reached over and grabbed her shoulder. “Nah. You ain’t doin’ that. Not after everything he did for you.”

She jerked away. Eyes burned holes into mine. “You hidin’ somethin’, Roscoe.”

I froze.

“I know you. I’ve known you since I was three. You ain’t sayin’ everything. Who killed my dad?”

My mouth went dry.

‎“Zuri—Don’t change the damn topic, you not dropping outta school.”

“Don’t play me, old man. Who. Killed. Him?” she retaliated.

I shook my head. “It don’t matter. It was a g**g fight, some random nigga sho—”

“Bullshit!” She stood up. “You think I’m dumb? You think I can’t read a lie? Third time now, Unc. Don’t make me ask again.”

I closed my eyes. Thought of Andre’s last breath. The promise I made.

“He made me swear, Z. Swear I’d protect you. Keep you safe. Shield you from this mess. And tellin’ you the truth… breaks that vow.”

She stepped closer. Voice low now. “If you love me, like you say you loved him, you’ll tell me the name, that’s all. Actually I’ll go back to school. I’ll take that damn scholarship. I’ll make my pops proud. Just… give me the name, I need to know—please Unc.”

Her blue eyes said it all, she was sad but anger driven. But if the name got her back to school then it was worth the risk.

“Deal.” I muttered. My hands then shook as I whispered, “Malik Lovereign.”

‎“Who the hell is that?”

“I need more than a name, Unc. Who the f**k is he?”

“We agreed scholarship for name, a'ight?” I handed her the takeout bag. “Now, let that s**t go and eat somethin’ then rest.”

She took it. Didn’t say another word.

I left the room, leaned against the wall outside.

Whispered to myself, “I’m sorry, Dre. I tried. You got a stubborn daughter.”

###

I didn’t sleep that night. Sat on the couch, g*n on the table, phone in my hand, flipping through old photos. Me and Dre posted up outside the corner store. Zuri sittin’ on his shoulders, holdin’ a juice box. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come.

Morning came too fast. I had to check on Zuri first, knocked gently on her door.

“You alive in there?”

“Yeah.”

That was enough for now.

I made eggs, bacon, toast. She came out, hoodie over her head, eyes puffy but fierce. I set the breakfast table, Kiki joined in too.

“When do I start school?” she asked.

“Next week, Monday.” I replied.

She sat down and ate in silence, face looking bitter.

But I knew what was brewin’ in that mind of hers. She was plottin’. She wasn’t just takin’ the scholarship now. She wanted revenge. Wanted answers. I’ve known Zuri for a long time to know that if she wants something, she gets it and that’s Malik’s head this time round. Problem is she is going against the most ruthless man in New York City.

And me? I was caught in the middle. I have to protect her for Dre’s sake, lil’ girl don’t know what she up for.

“Promise me you’re not going to do anything stupid, Zuri.” I clearly stated hoping she gets the message and stays away from Malik.

But she just nodded and smirked, like a little devil she was becoming—well f**k me.