their problems would be fewer when they got up there to the real doghouse.
As Baby Brother was led down the hall he passed between a row of cells where inmates grasped the bars and checked out the new meat. He walked like the niggah he was. Upright. Confident. He didn’t grill nobody, but he didn’t avoid nobody neither. Shit was talked on either side of him, but that was to be expected. He didn’t take it personally because these niggahs didn’t know him.
At least he didn’t think they did.
“Yo, Acqui!” a short, powerfully built dude named Rayz called out to his man on the other side. They were both down with the Brooklyn Borne click and had gotten knocked a couple of weeks earlier for kicking down the door of a state witness’s house and tying up the man and his whole family before pouring lighter fluid on them and setting the house on fire.
“I know that cat, son. He looks real familiar…. Look at them eyes. That’s that niggah Farad’s brother, yo! One of them Davis dudes.” His hand went to the spot where his right ear had once been. “Yo…what the fuck that niggah doing up in here?”
Across the way, Acqui frowned. The degradation Farad and Finesse had put him and his boy through had been so severe and humiliating it was like a living thing, never far from his mind. “Oh, he up in here about to get served, that’s what the fuck he doin’,” he said.
Acqui grinned. A cold breeze seemed to come from his direction. He had been itching to pump lead into Farad and Finesse for a while now. Them niggahs had a tight circle, though, and kept their strap on at all times.
But he would never forget the doggin’ they’d put on him. Them niggahs had got him and Rayz in the middle of a crowd of niggahs and bitches and shit on them in the worst possible way.
“Get yo mothafuckin ass over here!” Finesse had demanded, the blade of his knife still dripping with Rayz’s blood. They’d been chillin’ in a little joint called The Bad Ass. Hoes and dice were being tossed in the back room, and them Davis twins had busted Rayz and Acqui flipping loaded dice.
Rayz had gotten the worst of it. Physically, that is.
“Don’t even step toward that fuckin’ door!” Finesse had warned Rayz when he tried to dip out the back room. They shouldn’ta had their asses up in there no way. They were from Brownsville, but had gone to Jeff High School back in the day and straddled the line between Brownsville and East New York. But still, even though they were technically still in The Ville, they were way out of Borne territory, and just about every niggah up in there was down with the Davis crew.
Rayz had kept on moving. He was only a few feet away from the door, and he coulda got through that shit too, but a thick-necked niggah named Dolla stepped in front of him and checked the door.
That was all the time Finesse had needed. He crossed the room in four long strides and snatched Rayz up in a headlock. Without saying a word, that mothafuckah yanked out a blade and sliced, and the next thing Acqui knew Finesse was holding up a bloody ear, niggaz was laughin’ and wildin’, and Rayz was on the floor bleeding from the head and hollerin’ like a punched-out old lady.
And then it was Acqui’s turn to suffer. The club owner, Jed, kept pit bulls in the back for security purposes. But Farad wasn’t satisfied with mutilating Rayz. That niggah wanted to humiliate them too.
“Get on your fuckin’ hands and knees!” he had ordered Acqui. “Crawl over there and stick ya face in that fuckin’ dog bowl!”
Rage had surged through Acqui, but survival was in him too. Ignoring the jeers from the cats in the crowd and the squeals of disgust coming from the jawns, Acqui doggy-walked across the room to where Farad stood by the three dog bowls. Once there, it was hard to lift his eyes. He was so consumed with killing somebody that his whole body trembled.
“Lap it up, bitch.”
Finesse had passed his twin the torch. Farad
As Baby Brother was led down the hall he passed between a row of cells where inmates grasped the bars and checked out the new meat. He walked like the niggah he was. Upright. Confident. He didn’t grill nobody, but he didn’t avoid nobody neither. Shit was talked on either side of him, but that was to be expected. He didn’t take it personally because these niggahs didn’t know him.
At least he didn’t think they did.
“Yo, Acqui!” a short, powerfully built dude named Rayz called out to his man on the other side. They were both down with the Brooklyn Borne click and had gotten knocked a couple of weeks earlier for kicking down the door of a state witness’s house and tying up the man and his whole family before pouring lighter fluid on them and setting the house on fire.
“I know that cat, son. He looks real familiar…. Look at them eyes. That’s that niggah Farad’s brother, yo! One of them Davis dudes.” His hand went to the spot where his right ear had once been. “Yo…what the fuck that niggah doing up in here?”
Across the way, Acqui frowned. The degradation Farad and Finesse had put him and his boy through had been so severe and humiliating it was like a living thing, never far from his mind. “Oh, he up in here about to get served, that’s what the fuck he doin’,” he said.
Acqui grinned. A cold breeze seemed to come from his direction. He had been itching to pump lead into Farad and Finesse for a while now. Them niggahs had a tight circle, though, and kept their strap on at all times.
But he would never forget the doggin’ they’d put on him. Them niggahs had got him and Rayz in the middle of a crowd of niggahs and bitches and shit on them in the worst possible way.
“Get yo mothafuckin ass over here!” Finesse had demanded, the blade of his knife still dripping with Rayz’s blood. They’d been chillin’ in a little joint called The Bad Ass. Hoes and dice were being tossed in the back room, and them Davis twins had busted Rayz and Acqui flipping loaded dice.
Rayz had gotten the worst of it. Physically, that is.
“Don’t even step toward that fuckin’ door!” Finesse had warned Rayz when he tried to dip out the back room. They shouldn’ta had their asses up in there no way. They were from Brownsville, but had gone to Jeff High School back in the day and straddled the line between Brownsville and East New York. But still, even though they were technically still in The Ville, they were way out of Borne territory, and just about every niggah up in there was down with the Davis crew.
Rayz had kept on moving. He was only a few feet away from the door, and he coulda got through that shit too, but a thick-necked niggah named Dolla stepped in front of him and checked the door.
That was all the time Finesse had needed. He crossed the room in four long strides and snatched Rayz up in a headlock. Without saying a word, that mothafuckah yanked out a blade and sliced, and the next thing Acqui knew Finesse was holding up a bloody ear, niggaz was laughin’ and wildin’, and Rayz was on the floor bleeding from the head and hollerin’ like a punched-out old lady.
And then it was Acqui’s turn to suffer. The club owner, Jed, kept pit bulls in the back for security purposes. But Farad wasn’t satisfied with mutilating Rayz. That niggah wanted to humiliate them too.
“Get on your fuckin’ hands and knees!” he had ordered Acqui. “Crawl over there and stick ya face in that fuckin’ dog bowl!”
Rage had surged through Acqui, but survival was in him too. Ignoring the jeers from the cats in the crowd and the squeals of disgust coming from the jawns, Acqui doggy-walked across the room to where Farad stood by the three dog bowls. Once there, it was hard to lift his eyes. He was so consumed with killing somebody that his whole body trembled.
“Lap it up, bitch.”
Finesse had passed his twin the torch. Farad
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