Brooklyn Boys

By Sabrina A. Eubanks

Growing up in hard and gritty Do-Or-Die Bed-Stuy had been a tough and often perilous road for Justin Wilde and his brother Tony, but they refused to succumb to life's vicious blows. Left as virtual orphans by a father doing a terminal bid and a mother who became strung out and gave up, they were left to fend for themselves. Since well-paying, gainful employment had shut its heart to these young men with minimum skills, they quickly find their niche in easily gotten drug money; slinging on the corner for a flashy old school dealer named Cicero Thomas and making undesirables disappear. They are known on the streets as Cutty and Crush.
Life hasn't been easy, but they've always been smart. When they're made an offer they can't refuse by Prometheus Burns, an upstart from Trinidad with primo product, they start on a course for a takeover that will leave a major dealer bodied and put them in position to have the venerable status of true drug lords; but coups are not always easy. Sometimes a war must be fought to reign supreme, but Cutty and Crush are more than ready to rise to the occasion with their old friends Shade and Josie to help clear the path.
The kingdom of the original gangster and old regimes are at hand. The time has come for Brooklyn Boys.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sabrina A. Eubanks
• Release date: Oct 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781540126498

Book preview

Chapter One

Crush exchanged a look with his brother, Cutty as they walked into the park on Suydam Street and Knickerbocker Avenue, stuck on the fact that he hated pussies. Not pussy... pussies. Yep, pussies, snitches, and brown nosin’ fuckin’ weasels. The only people I can’t stand more are assholes and haters. And these slimy dudes are all those things wrapped up in a funky little package. Crush’s mouth turned down in disgust. Alvin Mackenzie and his boy, Nardo had been bad mouthing them and making all kinds of noise against Crush, Cutty, and Shade in the hopes that Cicero Thomas would listen. Stealing money and shit; as if the beef that already existed between them and Cicero weren’t bad enough.

Crush was pretty sure that Alvin and Nardo were wise to the fact that their little powder-keg, whispering behind their backs, was enough to set off a full-fledged war between them and Cicero. Time to nip this in the bud, though. They must not know who they fuckin’ with. Somebody ‘bout to die just ‘cause they ain’t mind they business.

Alvin and Nardo were relatively new to this bad boy shit. They were neighborhood niggas who couldn’t manage to find a job decent enough to take care of themselves, their women, and their squads of kids, that decided to sling a little to get their money up. Crush, Cutty, and Shade – hell, even Josie, had cut their teeth on this shit and been in and out of trouble for most of their lives. There wasn’t a single one, among the four of them, that had never been arrested or didn’t have a juvenile record that had been sealed... and that was just for the shit they’d been caught for. True, they hadn’t always been and weren’t always D-Boys. As a rule, they always kept their collective hands in a lot of shit, but the drug game seemed to be what was working for them right now. Crush smiled in the dark, Nah; they really didn’t know who they were fuckin’ with. Don’t no niggas jump up out the box, brand new, and act like they got the balls to kick no fuckin’ dust at us. They ‘bout to get dealt with.

Look... there them niggas go right there, Josie said, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. Real anger coloring her voice as she popped her chewing gum. Crush looked down at her as she fell in step beside him as if she thought she was as much man as either of them. He would have laughed at her, but he knew Josie was just as formidable as they were, in her own way. Crush would never turn his back or sleep on her because he might just wake up with his nuts in his mouth. Josie was a dirty little chick. After almost ten years of knowing her, Crush was still trying to figure out exactly how he felt about her.

They sittin’ their stank asses over there like they ain’t got a care in the fuckin’ world. Let’s go give ‘em somethin’ to be worried about, she said and pulled out her .32.

Shade calmly put his hand on her arm and gently forced it down. No flyin’ off the handle, Jo. No guns. We don’t wanna make no noise.

That’s right, Cutty said, looking at them over his shoulder, Chill, Josie, we got this. We just wanna shake these dudes up. We ain’t really tryin’ to kill nobody tonight unless they make us.

"Fuck that, Cutty! These niggas gon’ learn today! Don’t nobody try to play us like that!" Josie said with loud indignity.

Crush winced at the loud sound of her voice in the quiet park and pushed her roughly. Yo, shut the fuck up. What’s wrong with you, yellin’ out like that? Once again, he decided he probably didn’t particularly care for her little loud mouth, hair trigger ass.

Fuck you, Tony. Your dumb ass don’t know nothin’, she said, and sucked her teeth at him, pushing his ass back with her elbow then falling in line with Cutty.

Crush turned his mouth down and raised an eyebrow. He didn’t appreciate her calling him by his government name in public, and her putting her hands on him had sincerely pissed him off. He looked at her blankly as she walked off with his brother, wriggling her fat, little bubble ass at him like she thought she was cute. I hate her. Disrespectful little heifer, he thought to himself.  He turned his head to find Shade looking at him as if he thought otherwise. Crush’s attitude instantly turned up a notch.

Fuck you lookin’ at, Shade? he asked, narrowing his eyes at him dangerously.

Shade smiled pleasantly and looked at Josie’s retreating form, then back at him. Funny, I was gonna ask you the same question.

Crush stared at him for a second before he started walking again. Man, fuck you, he muttered, Let’s catch up.

They walked fast and caught up with Cutty and Josie as they neared Alvin and Nardo, approaching them from the rear. The two, soon to be unfortunate, gentlemen were perched atop a park bench, sitting on the back of it with their feet on the seats like a couple of fucking crows sitting on a telephone wire, cawing and giving each other dap like the lame-ass birds they were.  Cutty never stopped walking as he took his hunting knife out of his pocket; unsheathing it and slickly signaling for Crush and Shade to approach these two assholes from behind. Josie walked so close to Cutty; you would have thought she was his girlfriend, holding her gun slightly behind her with the barrel pointed down. The four of them picked up speed and closed the distance while Alvin and Nardo were still laughing at the same old dusty joke.

Heard it’s some bitch-ass niggas over here lookin’ to get their wigs pushed back, Cutty announced resoundingly into the still night air, Maybe it’s these fools right here!

Before Nardo could turn all the way around, Shade pulled him off the back of the bench and slammed him backward to the ground so hard; Crush wouldn’t have been surprised if he had snapped his neck. Alvin tried to raise up and run, but he proved to be a clumsy bastard as his right leg slipped into the space between the back of the bench and the seat. Crush had him in a headlock before he could start screaming. There was a gurgle of protest behind him, and he turned his head to see Josie with her foot in Nardo’s chest and her gun pointed at his head. Shade had Nardo’s dome in his sights as well.

Cutty took his knife and quickly stuck Alvin in the thigh with it three times. Cutty didn’t carry a regular street knife; he carried a 6-inch hunting knife, the kind you could skin a deer with and that would crack and saw through bone, and he kept it very sharp. Alvin yelped with pain and surprise like a hurt dog. Blood started to seep through the surface of his jeans. Put that leg in the fuckin’ hole too! You ain’t runnin’ off while I’m tryin’ to talk to you.

Wait, Cutty! I can explain what happened, man! Just... please! Just let me explain! It ain’t gotta be all this, for real, Cutty! Please man... Alvin bleated against the crook of Crush’s arm.

If there was one thing Crush knew Cutty hated to hear, it was the sound of a weak-ass nigga begging. He’d said it was like someone dragging their fingernails down a chalkboard. It was Cutty’s opinion that if you were man enough to do the deed, you should be man enough to answer for it.

What you beggin’ me so hard for, nigga? Cutty asked benignly, Stop pleadin’ to me like you think I’m gonna have mercy on you. I’m only gonna ask you once, Alvin, before I start carvin’ your foul ass up. Are you and Nardo tryin’ to fuck us up with Cicero? You runnin’ game on those other corner boys and keepin’ Cicero’s money and tryin’ to make it look like it’s us?

Alvin took so long to answer; Crush put his weight on him and bent him backward as far as he could go with the bench pressing into his spine. Alvin hollered from the pain until Crush felt the resistance leave his body as if he’d sprung something deep inside of him that he really needed to stay upright. Tears rolled out of Alvin’s eyes as his hoarse holler turned into a silent scream.

There was a small commotion behind him and Crush heard Josie yell disagreeably. Uh-uh, get back down before I blow your brains out! Move again, and I’ll kill your ass!

Get off me, bitch! Nardo screamed back. The crack of Josie’s gun going off reverberated in Crush’s ears and he knew that Nardo had just bought the farm for the small infraction of calling Josie out of her name – a far lesser thing than they’d come here for.

What did you do that for, crazy girl? You fucked my boots up! Shade complained.

Bet he won’t be callin’ nobody else a bitch, Josie replied, as if she was glad his ass was gone.

Didn’t I tell you not to kill nobody? Cutty asked quietly, narrowing his dark green eyes at her as Shade shook his head and looked at the mess she’d made. Cutty turned his attention back to Alvin, eyeing him with resignation.

Guess I won’t be askin’ you no more questions, chief. Since your boy couldn’t mind his manners, looks like you gotta follow him to the grave. Maybe y’all can find some ghosts to sell out.

Fright was huge in Alvin’s eyes. Cutty, please man... wait!

Cutty shook his head. Sorry, I can’t, but I’ll see you in hell sooner or later. We can talk then. Die nigga.

Cutty stuck his knife deeply and neatly into Alvin’s chest, just to the left of his sternum. He turned the blade before he pulled it out; just as quickly as he’d stuck it in. Alvin gasped with the last beat of his heart. Crush pushed him away and let him fall. Alvin’s body landed sideways on the bench with a hard thud. His blood splattered to the ground between the slats of the bench like soft rain, swiftly forming a large and growing puddle that looked as if someone had kicked over a bucket of red paint.

Let’s get the fuck outta here, Shade said. His large and luminous brown eyes touched briefly on each one of them before he turned and beat a hasty retreat.

Josie tucked her gun into her jacket as Cutty walked past her, staring with major disapproval.

What? Josie asked sarcastically, her temper not quite cooled and as if she didn’t appreciate being judged.

You gotta learn how to reel yourself in, Jo. This wasn’t supposed to go down like that. Cutty didn’t even look at her as he said it, he just briskly walked away. Crush went with him and Josie hurried to catch up.

She grabbed Crush’s arm and stared at him. You got somethin’ to say too?

Crush stared back at her with his own brand of disapproval, looking down his nose at her with his lips turned down. You need your ass whipped for that shit. Get your hand off me before I use my belt on you.

Josie snatched her hand off him and wrinkled her nose in anger to hide the flush in her face. Fuck you, Tony. You suck.

Crushed looked her up and down, but didn’t change his expression. You wish, he said then followed Cutty and Shade out of the still silent park.

Chapter Two

Cutty had never really let himself get too concerned about Alvin and Nardo’s lame attempts to make them look bad in front of Cicero Thomas. Their blatant show of force had only been meant to dissuade any other hating ass dudes from doing the same thing. It was meant to show inherently soft niggas that they were not to be fucked with. It was supposed to be an intimidation tactic, but as it sometimes went, Josie had lost her cool and took it too far.

Cutty also wasn’t very worried about being fingered for those two bodies in the park. Sure, there was always at least one nosy motherfucker watching out their window, but Justin Wilde – which was Cutty’s given name – wasn’t feeling nervous because whoever started flapping their gums would get dealt with way before they could run and tell the next man. Cutty had never been a stranger to snuffing out a life.

Justin was in this game to win it; failure was not an option. He and his brother, Tony didn’t lose at much, once they set their minds to it. They’d been thrown some pretty wicked curve balls in their short lives, but they were determined to come out on top; no matter what it took. Products of their environment? Probably so, but hey, most people’s lives weren’t like the ones you saw on TV. Jus and Tony had had their fair share of problems and emotional scarring, but Justin was a realist. Enough to know that it could have been a lot worse, and the fact that it hadn’t been was something in itself to be thankful for. A possible way out of the bleakness of their lives was another.

Justin used his key to get into the front door. He, more than casually, looked over his shoulder and walked upstairs to the small apartment that he shared with his brother on Quincy Street. He immediately heard the laughter of Gavin Lockhart – who they also called Shade – and Josie. They spent more time at their place than they did at their own, and that was cool with Justin because he never minded their company.

The four of them had been tight for years, and they all had horrible backstories. They’d decided years ago to throw their lot in together. In a lot of ways, they were stronger as a unit than they’d ever be separately. Plus, they’d made a vow, when they were still teenagers, to stay that way even after they achieved success – if they ever did. It may have seemed childish to some, like an oath kids take to be blood brothers; but the vow had been made in earnest, and they’d meant every word. They might be an odd quartet, but they were the closest thing they all had to a family.

Justin’s mind was currently filled with sad thoughts of his and Tony’s mother, Amelia. He was on his way back from making a heart-wrenching visit, but his somber mood took a sharp turn as soon as he opened the door to the flat on Quincy Street. The scent of premium bud filled the air in the front room and wrapped its aroma around him like a warm blanket. Cutty’s contact high was instantaneous enough for him to wonder if that kush was mixed with something else.

Well, well... what have we here? he asked, walking into their small, tidy kitchen to find Tony and Gavin seated at the table partaking of the primo weed, and Josie busy at the stove.

Tony grinned at him and passed the dro. You gotta hit this, Jus. This shit is sick!

Gavin grinned too. For real. I’m fucked up like three niggas, and we ain’t even finished the blunt.

Justin took the blunt and hit it hard; closing his eyes and savoring the impact of the high. He opened his clear, emerald eyes and looked at his brother. Damn... that’s some really good shit. What’s your ass doin’ with it?

"I got it from this dude from