First Daughter-NBA Youngboy

18🌻

Aliyah|Queen

"Bro, this shit ain't funny! We gotta go." Kentrell kinda sat up and caught his breath.

"Yo, you a dumb ass!" Roderick stated. "Get him up, he sitting next to you. You better hope he y'all, cause he gone die beside yo ass."

"Man, that's some bullshit!"

"Yo, shut up! Get yo hoe ass up and let's go." My brother said to Montana. "Don't go out, nobody coming in 'less Liyah approve it. You know the drill." My brother done this so many times that I know the drill like the back of my hand.

When I was younger, he taught me all the code words, situation prep, all that shit. You'd think we lived in the trenches. My brother was just in the streets too much, I just knew everything he knew. I got up.

"Come hea Liyah." I was caught off guard by Youngboy calling me. He rarely addressed me in public, just stared. I followed him hesitantly to the hallway, ignoring the stares. I walked behind him into his old room. I watched as he shuffled through the half-filled drawer and pulled out something black. He turned toward me, a gun in his hand.

"Come closer, why you being so shy?" I chewed my lip nervously and stepped closer.

"You know how?" He gestured to the mag and the gun in separate hands. I shook my head. He slowly showed me how to put them together.

"Easy."

"Um...yeah."

"Hmm." He pushed it towards me and I stepped back.

"Get that away."

"What? What's wrong witchu?"

"Kentrell, I hate guns." He chuckled, but I was dead serious. He put it back where he found it.

"Whatchu gone do if somebody break in?" I mugged him and he sighed. He licked his lips and sat on the end of his bed. "Close my door."

"Why?"

"Stop askin' so many questions." I straight faced him and shut the door. He motioned for me to come where he was. He grabbed me by the hips and pulled them downward. I took the hint and straddled his lap.

"You know you got a nigga dying on your mama's couch, right?"

"Man, fuck him. He'll be okay." He laughed a little.

"Look mane, I understand why you scared and whatever—but you gotta push that shit to the side. I'm a movin' target shawty. This house a target, too. But I can't move all y'all right now. I trust you to hold it down, ya brother got a lot of faith in you, too."

"Ion understand why! Ian got the strength for this." I quickly wiped a tear from my eye. Hate that weak shit.

"Don't cry, lil ma. Sometimes you gotta be a lil ganster—'specially out here."

"If some' happen to anybody in this house, ian gone ever find a way to forgive myself. Ion even know how to shoot no damn gun." I admit.

"Ain't no right way when you tryna protect yo people. Just as long as you hit." He shrugged. "You prolly won't need it anyway."

"Hope not." I mumbled.

"Youngboy! Aye, we gotta go!" He leaned in and kissed my lips. I got up and we walked out. I walked back in the room to see that Montana was gone and all the boys were standing shoulder to shoulder, talking.

"Aye, where that nigga go?"

"He outside, that nigga can't move though." Youngboy just sighed.