Boosters

By Sabrina A. Eubanks

Quinn Whitaker is too smart for his own good. He and his close friends, Lonzo and Fitzi, have made a steady income out of shoplifting and petty thievery with Quinn masterminding their every move. The stakes change when they're presented with the opportunity to rob a drug dealer and increase their cash flow but that move also changes the game. It whets Quinn's appetite to move on to the next big thing, and awakens his diabolical genius to master the craft and conquer the art of the heist. Lonzo and Fitzi come along for the ride of stealing big with Quinn as orchestrator, but when a simple job and blind luck leaves them with more money than they ever dreamed of, the foundation of their friendship is eroded by greed, ego, distrust and murder. Quinn pushes past his aversion of taking lives and sets his sights on grabbing the brass ring...a job so big, so out of their league, it's unimaginable but Quinn knows it can be done. They say the love of money is the root of all evil. Will their friendship survive their quest to have it all, or will greed, envy, secrets and lust destroy them all? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sabrina A. Eubanks
• Release date: Nov 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386305644

Book preview

Chapter 1

The summer Quinn Whitaker turned twenty-one was the one defining summer of his life. It was the summer he met Stacey Summerville, and it was also when he decided there was more to life than boosting.

A morbidly hot day in late July started out with Quinn sitting on his front stoop with his old friends, Fitzi and Lonzo—all of them broke, bored as hell, and pondering their next move.

It’s too hot to do any damn thing, Lonzo complained. He leaned over the railing of the steps and poured the last of his bottled water over his head. He proceeded to shake himself off like a fucking dog, soaking everyone around him.

Quinn threw his hands up in disgust. Come on, man! What the fuck is wrong with you? Why you gotta wet me up too? He shook Lonzo’s offensive water off him like it was poison, his mouth frowning down at the corners.

Fitzi laughed. Damn, Quinn. It’s only water. It ain’t like it’s battery acid.

Quinn looked at them both with disdain. "Yeah, but it’s water off his damn hot-ass body. He looked at Lonzo sideways. We tight, yeah, but we ain’t that damn tight."

Lonzo ran his hand over his wavy Caesar and pushed the water out of his hair. It ran down his handsome face in rivulets, and he brushed it out of his eyes. Sorry, Quinn. It’s just too hot to stay outside like this. Let’s go find a place to hole up. We could go get somethin’ to eat or somethin’, he suggested, still shaking water.

I got a better idea, Fitzi said, standing up with a smile. Let’s go shoppin’.

Quinn smiled back at him. Sounds good to me. I could use a new pair of Jordans. This nigga just ruined these. He looked down at his brand new $200 red-on-white sneakers, and they all laughed.

It’s just a little water, Lonzo said, repeating Fitzi’s earlier sentiment as he hopped down the steps.

We’ll meet you on the corner, Fitzi said to Quinn as he followed Lonzo down the block.

Quinn went upstairs to the apartment he shared with his mother and his sister.

Sherry, who was the oldest, sat at the kitchen table behind a pile of nursing books, and several of them were open. She looked up when Quinn came in.

Quinn gave his sister and irresistibly charming smile. Hey, Sherry. Studying?

She smiled back. Uh-huh. What you up to?

Goin’ shoppin’. Need anything?

Sherry sat back in her chair and tapped her pen against her pretty lips. She looked at Quinn contemplatively. Hmm. Well, I could use a new pair of jeans. Size—

I know what size, he said, shaking his hand in the air and winking at her. He went into his room and got his knapsack out of the closet. He checked to make sure no one had been in it, and when he was satisfied that nobody been breaking and entering in his shit, he flung it over his shoulder. Back in the kitchen, he put his hand on Sherry’s shoulder. Is that all you need?

She nodded. That’s it. And Quinn...

Yeah? What’s up?

"Don’t

He went to the door. All right.

I mean it. Be careful.

Quinn went back outside and met Lonzo and Fitzi at the corner. They took the subway down to King’s Plaza Mall. After spending a little time bullshitting with some other guys they knew and flirting with a few girls they wanted to get to know, they settled into the food court. They got down to business over tacos, cheese steaks, and chicken lo mien, a feast courtesy of Fitzi.

Quinn and Lonzo weren’t new to being low on funds, but Fitzi rarely ever had a cash flow problem. His brother Fisher was a very successful drug dealer, and he always threw cash and trees Fitzi’s way. Fish even hit Quinn and Lonzo up like they were his little brothers. Every time he saw them, he gave them something; he’d gone as far as offering to set them up with their own little hustle, an offer they’d collectively declined. Money aside, they all knew the drug game was dangerous and nearly impossible to retire from with a pulse still intact. They’d set their sights elsewhere. Sure, they knew everybody needed a hustle of some kind, but not every hustle had to be as dangerous as that drug-dealing gig. The three boys had their own game going, and it was a lot safer—or at least it seemed that way.

Quinn, Lonzo, and Fitzi had been boosting since they were fifteen. It was hard at first. Young and stupid, they’d snatch stuff and run, then have to get the anti-theft sensors off the merchandise later, without damaging it. This was no easy feat. They were older and wiser now, though, and they’d stepped their game up since then.

A year prior, Quinn had started to spend a lot of time with a girl named Shana Embry. Shana was twenty- three, the same age as his older sister Sherry. Quinn had found it odd at first that an older woman like her would want to spend time with someone three years younger, but he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was an exceptionally good-looking young man; women flocked to him like moths to a flame, and he was sure they always would. Shana had fallen head over heels for Quinn very quickly, and he used that infatuation to his advantage. She was no lovesick fool though. She was a smart young woman who attended Baruch, where she was studying for her business degree. She worked part time in the mall as a cashier in the sneaker store. Quinn laid it on her, and when he was sure she was feeling him hard enough, he asked her for a couple of deactivators to take the sensors off the clothes. She hadn’t wanted to do it at first, but he’d sugared two of them out of her, and that was enough to put them in business.

It really was easy. The three would walk into a store and start browsing, splitting up as if they didn’t even know each other. The two that held the deactivators would drift to separate corners, far away from each other like they were strangers, but close enough to keep an eye on one another. The third usually chose one of two roles: He either acted like the neediest customer in the world, or if the sales associate on the floor was female, he gamed her and got his mack on. It went without saying that they preferred the stores that employed girls.

You gonna stop and see Shana? Fitzi asked.

Quinn shook his head slowly. Naw, man. I think I’m about done with her.

Lonzo’s eyebrows went up, and he put his taco down. For real? Why you don’t want Shana no more?

It ain’t that I don’t want her.

Fitzi frowned. What is it then?

Quinn smiled, but there was a touch of remorse in it. Me and Shana don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. I think sometimes she forgets that I’m a little younger than she is. I mean, I got plans for the future and all that, but she ain’t necessarily in ‘em—not all serious like that anyway.

Lonzo smirked. Oh. Well, she must’ve bumped her head. Did she forget you just turned twenty-one? Man, she gotta know you ain’t thinkin’ ‘bout rings and shit like that.

Quinn nodded. Yeah, that’s what I’m sayin’. She’s tryin’ to tie a nigga down, and I ain’t even lived yet.

Fitzi looked at him with humorous reproach. I told you from the get-go that she’s too old for you.

Quinn waved a hand at him dismissively. Whatever, Fitz. That girl’s fine as hell. You woulda got with her, too, if she wanted to put your ass on.

Fitzi laughed. Yeah...you right. That ain’t no lie. That shit true as hell.

I know it is, Quinn took his knapsack off the floor between his feet and put it in his lap. Anyway, let’s get down to business. He reached into the bag and gave them both a deactivator. Y’all do your thing. I’m gonna run interference today. Quinn said, gulping down the rest of his soda.

They both made the devices disappear into the pockets of their shorts.

Works for me, Lonzo said.

Me too, Fitzi added. You got a place in mind?

Quinn shrugged. Sherry needs a new pair of jeans.

Cool. Let’s hit that new spot downstairs by the arcade then, Fitzi suggested.

I’m cool with that, Lonzo said, standing up and stuffing the last greasy, sour creamy bite of taco into his mouth.

Quinn grinned as he stood to his feet and put his backpack on his shoulders. Let’s move.

WHEN THEY GOT TO THE store, they cased it from the outside. It was just after 1 p.m. on a Tuesday, in the height of summer. The teenagers still out on summer break hadn’t descended yet—at least not in full force—and a lot of people were still at work. There were some shoppers lingering around the mall, but most of them were old people, and it was hardly crowded. It was just the way they liked it.

They caught notice of two girls working in the store: one at the register and the other on the floor. There were three other people in the store: a woman, her prepubescent son, and another girl, who was already making her way to the register.

Perfect. Quinn gave Lonzo his backpack.

Lonzo went in first and browsed for a bit. The salesgirl asked if he needed any help, and he told her he was just looking. He made his way to the expensive jeans as Fitzi walked in and followed his lead.

Fitzi had an identical conversation with her, then drifted off to the left, where the really popular jeans were kept.

Quinn counted two minutes down in his head before he walked in. The girl on the floor perked up the moment she caught sight of him. She’d offered help to Lonzo and Fitzi almost immediately, but she hung back from Quinn like she was afraid to talk to him. He wasn’t put off by it; he was used to such a reaction from females. He hadn’t paid her too much attention, but he looked over his shoulder at her and was pleasantly surprised. She was really pretty, and he was sure she’d be absolutely beautiful in a couple of years. She was medium height with smooth, flawless milk chocolate skin—so perfect it looked creamy, like a dessert. Quinn didn’t act on his first instinct. If he’d licked her cheek like he wanted to, he was sure she would have slapped him and called security. Her eyes were huge and luminous, with lush fringes of long lashes. Her mouth was dangerous, and it made Quinn think of her licking him. It was small, but her lips were full and shapely, wet with some nude cherry-scented lip gloss that Quinn caught scent of; it made him want to find out if it tasted the way it smelled. Her hair was dark, glossy, and luxuriously thick. She was wearing it in two Pocahontas braids, like a little kid. They hung down to the tops of her perfectly round and lovely breasts. Her waist was small and tight, and her hips curved away from it with promise. Quinn wished she’d turn around so he could see her body; he had a feeling it wouldn’t disappoint.

She smiled at him and revealed pretty, sparkly, white teeth. Quinn smiled back. Her name tag claimed her name was Stacey. Do you...um...need any help? Her smile turned flirty, and so did his.

That depends on what you want to help me with, Quinn came back at her.

She put her hands in her back pockets and stuck her chest out at him, a gesture he gladly stared at. Well, I can help you pick out a pair of jeans.

Yeah, I guess you could. He repressed an urge to roll up on her and kept a respectable distance between them.

Are they for you?

Quinn hadn’t forgotten why he was there, and he knew he should have been checking for Fitzi and Lonzo, but he just couldn’t seem to peel his eyes off the salesgirl. For me? Naw. They’re for my sister.

She looked at him like she didn’t believe him. Your sister? Yeah, okay. Well, ladies’ jeans are this way. She looked him over very slowly. Her smile became tiny, secretive, and a little smug as she turned and started across the room, teasingly gesturing with her finger for him to follow her.

Quinn’s eyes dropped down, and he was far from disappointed.

Stacey looked over her shoulder, and this time her smile said she knew he was looking at her. Come on, she said and kept walking.

Quinn tore his eyes off of her and glanced at Fitzi and Lonzo. They were both pretending to casually flip through racks and stacks of jeans like they were looking for sizes, but he knew they were really taking the sensors off the pants and moving them to a separate pile that would go into the knapsack.

Stacey stopped in front of a pile of jeans herself. "Do you think your sister would like these?"

Quinn turned his attention back to her. I-I= don’t know. Do you like ‘em?

She shrugged. "They’re nice. Everybody’s wearing them. Do you like them?"

He smiled at her suggestively. Yeah, but I like those a lot better, he said and pointed to her well-filled-out jeans.

She laughed. "Well, she can’t have these. These are mine, but I’ve got some like ‘em over here."

He followed her to another rack.

Do you know what size she is?

Eight.

Again she looked skeptical, but she nodded and started going through the rack. Is it her birthday or something?

Yeah, somethin’ like that.

Well, she’s got a nice brother to be out shopping for clothes for her. I don’t know a lot of guys who’d do that.

You think so?

She looked him over again and smiled. You’ll do.

Fitz left the stack of jeans he was looking through and moved closer to the front of the store. Their little scheme was almost over. When Fitzi left the store, Lonzo would move to the pile Fitz had left him, tuck them into the knapsack, make a small purchase to diffuse suspicion, and leave. Quinn would decide he didn’t want anything at all, casually wrap up his distracting conversation, and meet Fitzi and Lonzo outside.

I’ll do? I sure will, Quinn shamelessly flirted with a smile.

She shot him a quizzical look as Fitzi went out the door. So do you want these or not?

Quinn chewed his bottom lip and looked at her directly. He shook his head. "Naw. Like I said, I want those." Quinn looked at her pants with a whole lot of interest.

Stacey looked a bit shocked and bit her lip again.

Quinn glanced at the girl at the register: She was looking at them openly, refusing to mind her own damn business.

Wow. That was a little...forward, Stacey said, frowning.

Quinn was distracted watching Lonzo, so he really couldn’t talk to the salesgirl the way he wanted to. He also didn’t want it to be the first and last time he ever saw her.

Lonzo was stepping up to the register with a pair of socks in his hand.

The nosy girl turned her attention to Lonzo to do her job, grudgingly taking her eyes off them.

Quinn pulled out his cell phone. Yeah, you’re right. It was a little strong. Why don’t you give me your number, Stacey?

She laughed, even though she looked flattered. "Are you serious? I’m just supposed to give you my number just like that? Just ‘cause you asked me for it?"

Quinn smiled at her patiently. Yes.

Her laugh turned into a giggle. "You’re trippin’ hard. You think that much of yourself? You think you spit a little game at a girl and she’s just supposed to fold right up?"

Quinn’s smile never wavered. There was no way in the world he was leaving without her number. She’s fucking fine, and Fitzi and Lonzo just gonna hafta wait a minute. Besides, she was putting up a fight, and Quinn loved a challenge. He stared at her and said confidently, Yeah, I do...and the customer’s always right, right?

She looked at him like she couldn’t believe his arrogance, but she kept smiling. "No. I don’t even know your name."

My name is Quinn. Now give me your number, Stacey.

She tried to look at him like she wasn’t feeling him, but her body language said otherwise. She wasn’t shrinking away or trying to run from him. She actually took a step closer and returned her hands to her back pockets, where he wished his hands could be, still pushing her chest out at him. Her head was even tilted at an angle, like she wanted him to kiss her or something; he planned to eventually, of course, but now was not the time. No, Stacey said. "You’re fine, but you ain’t that fine."

Lonzo looked at him and walked out of the store.

Quinn knew it was time to stop bullshitting, even though he didn’t quite get his fill of looking at her. I know I’m fine, and so are you. Now stop playin’ and give me your number, he ordered and rolled up on her so hard he bumped into her. It was a gentle bump, but it was effective, and it totally