Poughkeepsie Begins (The Poughkeepsie Brotherhood #0.5) by Debra Anastasia Page A

here tonight hustling instead of sleeping. Instead of studying. Instead of holding Candy Cox’s hand.
    The Lincoln pulled to a stop in the driveway of Dello’s old place. Beckett got out without hesitation. Never slow down. Never pause. Like dogs, these fools would only respect the bastard with the sharpest bite.
    Kick sat on the couch, sucking a line of coke into his nose with five-dollar bill.
    Couldn’t even do blow like a boss. Only C notes need apply.
    “You want?” Kick gestured to the glass coffee table.
    “You paying?” Beckett looked around the room. That Kick couldn’t see the deception hiding behind the eyes around him was like an evil miracle.
    “Sure, pup. Let’s see how you do.” Kick held out the five.
    Beckett took out his own ten and rolled it. He slammed back the last two lines on the table before replacing his money. The coke was insane. It made his eyes want to jump out of his head and punch in his balls.
    He held his arms behind his back and rode out the initial mindfuck. “You needed to see me?” He was ninety-five-percent sure he sounded chill.
    “Yeah. I had a guy in your school—taking orders, delivering and shit.” Kick sat back on the couch and snapped at the girl closest to him. “You want a hit? You’re going to have to suck it out of my dick.” He unzipped his pants. The girl rolled her eyes and stood, ignoring him. She was one of the hookers. Beckett recognized her.
    It was shit like this that would do Kick in. You tell somebody to do something, they have to do it. Beckett stepped in front of the woman’s exit. He laced his hand in her hair and pulled, hard. Maybe too hard—the coke had him out of control just a little fucking bit.
    “Kick wanted his dick sucked, bitch. You think you get to call the shots here?” Beckett came close to her face and snapped his teeth. She gasped. “You’re going to suck his motherfucking dick like he told you.” He pushed her back in Kick’s direction.
    Kick looked ready to wave off the whole scene. But Beckett let his eyes go vacant, not giving the woman a choice. No weapon, just yanking on her hair, but he had to dominate the situation. The room went uncomfortably quiet as the girl stumbled backward after Beckett let her go.
    He jutted his chin at Kick and held his breath. If she laughed at him and blew him off, he sure as shit wasn’t going to hit her. And then he would be just a pup, like Kick had called him.
    Instead her eyes welled up. She looked scared of him. She seemed almost grateful to sink to her knees in front of Kick.
    Lord knew how much coke the man had had, because he had the slipperiest, softest prick in the world. When it was getting crazy embarrassing, Beckett nodded at the other guys and had them step into another room. He closed the door to give Kick the privacy he needed to either get it up or fake it.
    Five minutes later, the girl walked out, giving Beckett a wide berth. Kick called them back in.
    “Like I was saying, Jason was a pretty good runner. But he’s locked up. Now I got Poughkeepsie East uncovered, and those Westlake kids can put it back. They pay hundreds for fucking beer. Spoiled shits. So they can come to you now. You speak for me. Stay away from deals on campus. They have dogs and shit go through there.”
    Kick certainly didn’t look like a guy that had just nutted. Flaccid asshole. Beckett thought for a moment. “Sure, I can handle it. But I have a condition.” He folded his arms over his chest.
    Kick laughed. The other guys in the room laughed. Beckett waited.
    Finally Kick replied, “Not sure you’re hearing correctly. I’m telling you what to do. We’re not negotiating.”
    “I want the college too.” Beckett gave Kick the same stare he’d laid on the hooker.
    “That’s mine, you little ass pump.” A wiry but intimidating asshole with a tear tatted on his face and a string of molars around his neck stood. He walked right up to Beckett’s face, nose to nose.
    “Looks like that’s