Название: Streets of New York
Автор: Mark Anthony
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9781935883005
isbn:
When he got to Bed-Stuy, he parked his X5 and went into a nearby McDonalds for a quick hash brown and sausage, egg, and biscuit meal. Half-hour later, he met up with Squeeze and Show over at Uncle Junior’s crib again.
When he stepped in, they were doing nothing but lounging around in the basement and getting high off the marijuana they’d lifted yesterday.
“Where Pooh at?” Promise asked.
Squeeze shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know.”
“Damn nigga, why you grinning so hard?” Show asked.
“Nigga musta gotten some good pussy,” Squeeze said then took a pull from da weed.
“Nah, I’m just in a good mood.”
“Nigga, you got some pussy. Don’t front. Shit musta been some real good pussy cuz you got da ill Kool Aid smile.”
Promise didn’t respond to Squeeze’s remark. He was on a natural high. He couldn’t get Audrey off his mind. They’d just met but there was something about her he liked. They clicked this morning.
“You wanna hit this?” Squeeze asked passing Promise dat choc lit.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“You sure, nigga?”
Promise nodded.
“Should I have to remind you young blood that it’s puff-puff-pass da shit,” Uncle Junior intervened reaching for the weed.
Squeeze glared over at his uncle. They were family by blood but didn’t get along. They were cool at some points but hated each other. Uncle Junior despised his nephew because when he saw him, he saw something he should’ve been, could’ve been.
When Squeeze looked over at his uncle, he saw nothing but a fuck-up, a disgrace to the family name. Uncle Junior wasn’t shit but a leach, living off bitches and begging for dollars. And the nigga was only forty-five years old.
“Uncle Junior you ain’t put in for dis here,” Squeeze said to him passing him the blunt and doing him a favor, “so don’t ask me no more.”
“Ahight, young blood, whatever! We still fam.”
“Yeah, whatever, nigga. I gotta go take a piss,” Squeeze said rising and heading into the bathroom. “Show, hold dat down.”
Show nodded. Promise took a seat opposite Show, picked up a Don Diva magazine and started flipping through the pages.
“So, what y’all niggas getting into today?” Promise asked.
Show shrugged his shoulder and uttered, “Don’t know… chillin’ right now.”
Promise glanced around the room real quick. He saw Show getting high and slouching down in the couch. He looked over at Uncle Junior who looked to be in his own little world, still in that same wife-beater, torn jeans, and lips looking black as ever. Uncle Junior seemed to be lost in contemplation, just staring at the wall.
Promise was getting tired of doing the same old shit wit’ the same old niggas. He shook his head as he looked around the room and thought how many countless hours he had spent down in this basement getting high with these niggas, scheming with Squeeze, counting stolen money and waiting for bitches to come through. Everyday he’d drop his daughter off and bring his black ass back into Brooklyn knowing it was hot for him out here.
Everyone was in the basement when a loud knock came from the front door.
“Yo, Junior, get dat. It’s probably Pooh,” Show said.
“Man, do I look like your bitch to you,” Uncle Junior replied back. “Get da door your fuckin’ self.”
“What nigga?”
“Y’all niggas chill. I’ll get da fuckin’ door,” Promise said getting out his seat and walking to the door.
“Who…?”
“Pooh, nigga, open da fuck up.”
Promise began to unlock the door and Pooh came flying into the crib, almost collapsing over Promise.
“What da fuck!” Promise cursed but saw Pooh, bloodied face, swollen eye and his gear in shreds. Promise became concerned. “What happened to you?”
“Niggas jumped me.”
“What?”
By this time, Squeeze was out the bathroom and when he saw Pooh all fucked up, he shouted, “Pooh, who da fuck did dat to you?”
“Niggas we got at yesterday. They came back and caught me alone over on Myrtle.”
“What? Don’t worry ‘bout dat shit, Pooh. We gonna handle it for you,” Squeeze said, getting excited. “Dem pussy niggas came back at you…how da fuck did they know where you were at?”
“Nine… He was with ‘em niggas too.”
Squeeze had no more words. He was ready to take action. He got his gat and cocked it. Show and Pooh were ready to peel off at the niggas who had disrespected the team. Promise lingered behind. He wanted no parts of any street beef.
“Promise, you coming?” Squeeze asked seeing his nigga not making an effort to follow him into his truck to get revenge.
“We don’t even know where these niggas be at,” Promise said.
“I know where,” Pooh countered.
“C’mon nigga, fuck you acting like you pussy for? Niggas jumped Pooh. He family, don’t front on us Promise. Word, my nigga.”
Clearly apprehensive, Promise took a deep breath. He knew how Squeeze and the rest got down when they felt disrespected and truth be told, he didn’t want any part of that. His daughter loomed in his mind and he prayed shit didn’t hit the fan right now. Promise followed Squeeze and the rest. They all piled into Squeeze’s Dinali and sped down Throop Avenue. All were packing. Promise sat in the back while Pooh rode shotgun. Pooh’s silver nine millimeter sat on his lap, and Squeeze’s .380, was next to him.
When they got over by the Tompkins Housing area, they were in luck. Them same lame ass wanna be hustling niggas were still loitering out in front of the building and Nine was there with them this time.
“Fuck dat!” Squeeze shouted.
He busted a quick U-turn, sped down the block, and came to a complete stop. He caught everyone’s attention. All four came jumping out wit’ their guns blazing, firing at their targets. Nine and his niggas took quick cover while pulling out their guns to shoot back. Multiple gunshots rang out. Uninvolved bystanders took cover wherever they felt safe, ducking behind trees, squatting down next to cars, or running into lobbies. It was early afternoon and niggas were shooting up the neighborhood СКАЧАТЬ