Hustle Hard Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or organizations, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2007

  ISBN: 0-9792816-3-6

  Edited by Anthony Whyte

  Design & Photogaphy: Jason Claiborne

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For further information contact Augustus Publishing

  First printing Augustus Publishing paperback October 2007

  AugustusPublishing.com

  [email protected]

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  FIRST AND FOREMOST, I’D LIKE TO EXTEND MY APPRECIATION TO MY PRECIOUS SON JULIAN FOR GIVING ME THE MOTIVATION TO COMPLETE MY FIRST BOOK, THOUGH HE HADN’T A CLUE ABOUT IT, FLOATING AROUND IN HIS MOMMY’S TUMMY. TO PATRICIA, FOR HER PATIENCE THROUGH DOZENS OF LATE NIGHT AND EARLY MORNING WRITING SPURTS. TO MY PARENTS VIOLET AND CLAUDE FOR THEIR SUPPORT FROM THE CRADLE UP TO THIS VERY DAY. TO MY PNC (PARTNERS IN CRIME), TWO-THIRDS OF THE FORDHAM TRIUMVIRATE, ELIAS LOPEZ AND EVAN JENKINS, WHO ALWAYS PUSHED ME TO FOLLOW THROUGH WITH MY GOALS. TO MY UNCLE MAC, THANKS FOR SHOWING ME WHAT STEPS TO TAKE TO BECOME SUCCESSFUL; LATE’S BETTER THAN NEVER.

  TO A GOOD FRIEND OF MINE THAT’S BECOME A MENTOR, TRI SMITH, FOR REMINDING ME NEVER TO SETTLE AND TO SEIZE OPPORTUNITES THE MOMENT THEY MATERIALIZE. TO KENYA BYRD, FOR SHOWING ME WHAT BEING DRIVEN IS ALL ABOUT. TO ANTHONY WHYTE, FOR HIS INSIGHT THROUGHOUT THE CREATIVE PROCESS. TO JASON CLAIBORNE, FOR HIS CATCHY COVER DESIGN. TO PJ(DATNIGGAPROJECTZ), THANKS FOR THE ARGUMENTS. I APPRECIATE THE DIFFERENT POINT OF VIEW, AND JUSTIN (JUSSSPARK), NOW I KNOW FOR SURE YOU DON’T GIVE A...

  TO MY FORMER COLLEAGUES AT SMOOTH MAGAZINE, CEE, SOPHIA, JUSTIN, IAN, NNEKA, ENID, MARCEL, THANKS MAKING THREE YEARS MEMORABLE ONES. SEE YOU AT THE TOP. LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST, REST IN PEACE TO MY FAMILY THAT CROSSED OVER THIS YEAR, AUNT RUBY AND ALLAN.

  SPECIAL SHOUT TO THE AUGUSTUS MANUSCRIPT TEAM MEMBERS, TAMIKO MALDONADO AND THE POET, JOY LEFTOW. GOOD-LOOKING OUT ALL DAY.

  GO HARD OR GO HOME...

  FORTUNE FAVORS THE BOLD—VIRGIL, AENEID, X

  (AUDENTIS FORTUNA FAVAT.)

  Contents

  Proluge: Prelude to Bundles

  Chapter One: My Shortie

  Chapter Two: Enemies

  Chapter Three: Desperate Measures

  Chapter Four: H.S. Dreams

  Chapter Five: Reality Check

  Chapter Six: The Setup

  Chapter Seven: Robbing Season

  Chapter Eight: Back in Time

  Chapter Nine: Desperation Time

  Chapter Ten: The Jooks

  Chapter Eleven: Stick Ups

  Chapter Twelve: Training Grounds

  Chapter Thriteen: Dirty Devlin

  Chapter Fourteen: Things Fall Apart

  Chapter Fifteen: Life Without Him

  Chapter Sixteen: Partners in Crime

  Chapter Seventeen: Shawna and Bria

  Chapter Eighteen: 2001 Young Love

  Chapter Ninteen: Still My Girl

  Chapter Twenty: Feels So Good

  Chapter Twenty-One: Victor the Victim

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Three’s A Party

  Chapter Twenty-Three: The Pusher Man

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Street Test

  Chapter Twenty-Five: The Workout

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Steady Creeping

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Boxed-In

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Sid the Great

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Change of Plans

  Chapter Thirty: Beat-Down on Brodadway

  Chapter Thirty-One: A Break from the Madness

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Payback is a Bitch

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Putting Two and Two Together

  Chapter Thirty-Four: The Hideout

  Chapter Thirty-Five: Handoff

  Chapter Thirty-Six: Hustling

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: Cat and Mouse

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Young Gunners

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Call

  Chapter Fourty: The Old Switcheroo

  Chapter Fourty-One: The Clock’s Ticking

  PROLOGUE

  PRELUDE TO BUNDLES

  Veronica’s funeral was almost too much to handle. The church bell rang loudly and sucked up all the air. The church seemed smaller. With each breath I anger puffed out my chest. Life wasn’t fair. A couple thugs took an innocent life. It must not have affected me that bad. The day after she was laid to rest, I hit the block and went to work. I tried to keep revenge off my mind by focusing on selling and watching my back.

  The grind of my hustle plus the hot-ass sun made me fall back from hunting the dudes who killed Veronica. I will catch up with them and make them pay. Veronica’s younger cousins peeped them leaning on an Acura Integra. They saw the personalized plate. 2HOOD was written on it. When I was good and ready I’d ask a friend with a DMV connect to check the plate.

  Things were looking up after about four hours on the block. Many fiends were rolling up. It was like I was serving free Thanksgiving turkeys. Every thirty minutes I rotated my post.

  Eric was taking in twice as many customers. I planned on really raking in all the dough, once the sun set. For a beginner I was holding my own. Eric hit me on the horn bragging about making four grand in just five hours. It wasn’t all from crack-heads. He handed off some bags to dudes from his building and shaved a few dollars off the price. The money was coming around with the quickness.

  “I made a yard in four hours. Not bad for a rookie, huh?”

  “Eh, you ahight, little nigga,” Eric laughed. “Let’s give this shit a break and get something to eat.”

  “Not even bro, my mother’s life depends on this. I’m a hustle hard.”

  “J, you don’t know the meaning of hustlin’ yet. But it’s good start.”

  “I’m a damn-sure learn today! Put that on everything! Watch me pitch till my shoulders get numb.”

  “Ahight nigga, I’m a order some Chinese food for us and watch you do your thing.”

  I did exactly that. Eric witnessed an athlete transforming into a dealer right before his eyes. The sun faded and I got cautious about who I served. If I thought they were police I’d turn my back and walk. The later it got; the more people I turned away. Sales continued to be good on my turf of the Polo Grounds. Satisfied customers were busy letting all heads know that I had the high-grade merchandise.

  The cool night air did something to me. My attitude changed. These people were giving me money but I detested them. I hated them for making me spend my time serving poison. They were slaves to their addiction. I was a slave to them. I was no better than them and couldn’t make it without them. I found myself hating the customers for locking me into dealing. My thoughts had me so heated I didn’t notice Eric was halfway through his beef and broccoli.

  “When did they deliver the food?”

  “See how you fiendin’ for that dough, nigga? Chinaman came up here on a bike ringing his bell and everything. Cool out for a minute, Jaden. Eat some of ya orange chicken, nigga, ’fore you slap one of these crack-heads with your piece. I told you about letting these fiends get to ya, nigga.”

  I dug into my dinner plate, pissed off.

  “Fuck them fiends, E. Yo, send one of these lookouts to stash this cash up in your spot,” I said swallowing what was supposed to be chicken.

  “Only my little cousin can do that. Derrick!” Eric hollered.

  Minutes later, a sea of young chicks wiggled their way between us. I snagged the arm
of this light-skinned, pear-shaped hottie. Her smile made my night less stressful. I wasn’t a tit man. It was on when I made eye contact with her.

  “You know, I don’t usually even think about messing around on my girl, but you got my mind filled with nasty thoughts,” I flirted.

  “Ain’t you Jaden? And ain’t you supposed to be practicing right now on someone’s football field?”

  “I see word travels fast, huh? And your name is…?” I moved to lay my game down.

  Eric worked fast. His arms were already around some cutie with purple highlights in her hair. I caught up with him and pulled out a fat blunt. A few pulls later, Ms. Fat Bootie was leaning her round rump on my package. I needed a break from Bria anyway. I gave her a shotgun and she fell in love.

  “Let’s go upstairs and chill, Jaden.”

  Shortie was licking my ear.

  “In a minute, sweetie, let me finished this food right quick.”

  “Don’t get too full. Save some of that appetite for Renee,” she whispered grabbing my shirt.

  “Who’s Renee?”

  She shot me a seductive smile then slapped her hand on her hips before replying.

  “That’s me, silly!”

  I licked my lips watching her hips rolling deliciously as she backed off, turned around and walked away. I swear her smile lit up the Ave. I realized too late that she was slick. She rejoined her friends a few feet away and I noticed she’d finessed the blunt from my hand. She blew me a kiss and laughed. I returned the gesture and like a magician, I reached in my pocket and pulled out a fresh blunt. She cracked up when she saw that move. My cell phone went off. The ring-tone announced my sister. She never called me unless she needed something or there was big trouble. I answered with curiosity.

  “What’s up, sis?”

  “Mom fainted, Jaden! She’s feeling really sick. You gotta come to St. Luke’s right away!”

  Shit! I thought I had a few months to stack paper. I told Eric the bad news.

  “I’ll roll with you,” he said.

  I caught up with Renee and put an arm around her waist.

  “I’ll get up with you as soon as I get back,” I said pulling her from the pack of broads.

  Thick gray clouds started spreading across the blue sky. Thunder clapped and streaks of lightning made the broads shriek. I tightened up when a streak of lightning shot down to the pavement. We were making real money from our hustle but I was feeling untouchable. Life was really starting to change too quickly.

  “I’m going over there under that shelter,” Renee said pointing to the corner store.

  The rain suddenly came down in buckets. I laughed when I saw Eric’s dinner getting soaked before he could even close the container.

  “I don’t know why you laughing, yours soaked too fool…”

  I glanced at Eric hoping he could provide an answer to our dilemma and noticed people dashing back to their buildings in groups. We were the only two fools still out there, posted up like we were waterproof. I could tell that he felt the same way I did.

  “Ain’t nothing but a little rain, baby! I take this over a shootout any day, bro!” He smiled yelling.

  “True…”

  Our mentalities were changing. In the past few months, we’d seen a lot of action. There had been shootouts, chases and kidnappings. We’d seen it all. At eighteen years old, Eric had four years of solid experience in crime. I was playing catch-up.

  We forgot to post the lookouts today. They doubled as security. We were in the open, pitching like nobody cared. I tried to keep my eyes on the fiends and off the big booties walking by.

  When the rain let up a little, we looked back and saw the two shorties. They were standing under an awning in front of the building. All of a sudden, they turned and ran into the building. I looked at Eric.

  “Jaden... just the young man I wanted to see, mi hijo…”

  The voice was ice-cold and so raspy; it was sandpaper to my ears. I looked up to find that it was Cuban Rico. He was sharp as a tack with his snakeskin shoes, slim slacks and rings full of diamonds weighing down both hands. He wore a scowl and appeared composed but I could tell that he was pissed.

  Cuban Rico was flanked by ten men with hands in their jackets. The man closest to him held a huge umbrella over Rico. He carried a long pump shotgun by his side. In the pouring rain Eric and I knew we were outgunned. We were in deep shit.

  “You steal my coke, Jaden? You had the nerve to steal my fucking coke?”

  I played it cool. If I showed weakness, they’d step all over us like ants. My deodorant melted and ran down my ribs. Sweat spilled over my brow.

  “What coke, fam?”

  “Do you believe this guy? He has the biggest set on him, no?”

  “Hmm, so tell me, Jaden. What inspired a promising athlete, no, let me say it right, a national football sensation, like you, to step into my arena, huh? I mean, if I had the talent that you had, mi hijo, you think I’d be out here pushing poison? No, no I wouldn’t. I’d keep my nose clean, keep my penga out of white women and behave myself. Why did you choose the hustle?”

  “I didn’t choose it. It chose me,” I said rubbing my chin.

  Cuban Rico laughed. Everyone else joined in. Eric started for his piece. I signaled him and he eased off his waist.

  “Silencio! What the hell are you laughing about?! This young man has humiliated me! He’s stolen what mi familia lives on! He’s stolen the bread from your mouths! And you all laugh? Where is it, comedian? Goddamn you, calle bestia! Do you know who the fuck I am? I’ve been dumping bodies before you were born! Tell me where it is, or I lay you and boy scout down. I’ve got slugs for your family, Jaden. Si.” He walked to within inches of my face spit flying.

  I perked up. I thought of Bria, my mother, my brother and sister. I had a lot to lose. My mind flew down the list of everyone I knew, from most important to least important, in a matter of nanoseconds. Even if he was lying, he had paper. He could find out with just a few phone calls.

  “You’ve got sixty seconds. One of two things is gonna happen. Make it snappy, cabron.”

  “I’m with you, Jaden. Call it, fam,” Eric said slyly rubbing the handle on his pistol. One wrong move and we’d both be in pine boxes. We had to give up the white lady to survive. I was stuck.

  My heart banged against my chest. Time was running out on us. Cuban Rico ground his teeth and paced in front of me. He finally got fed up and pulled out a gun so shiny it glowed under the streetlight.

  He scratched his chin with the barrel of his gun. Rain dripped from his long, slick hair. He kept whipping it back with the barrel. His eyelids twitched, and I watched rain drops shake on his eyelashes. He held the piece in front of me and my thoughts became paralyzed.

  “Time’s up, mi hijo!”

  I heard his voice then the hammer cocking back.

  “Ten seconds before you meet your maker.”

  It couldn’t end now. My sister was in trouble. Mom was gravely ill. She had worked hard for too long just to see me wound up as another statistic. I wanted to show Bria the life she cherished. Hustling would help me to take her anywhere she wanted to go.

  “Diez… nueve…” He counted with his finger on the trigger.

  His countdown rang like bells shaking the thin air between us. The gun in his hand could erupt at any instant. Sweat ran freely down my back. My chest pounded out of control.

  Everything went slow-mo while my mind scrambled to make sense of it all. My life’s cycle was on playback. It felt like I was on a journey, the final lap of living. My mouth suddenly went dry. I grit my teeth, took a deep breath. The grim reaper was calling.

  “Ocho… siete… sies… cinco…”

  CHAPTER ONE

  MY SHORTIE

  She was completely irresistible. I never want to leave her alone. Picture Halle Berry with sick-ass curves, or maybe even Beyonce with hood appeal. Bria’s beauty made her the hottest of hotties. She came armed with a body that worked against a brother’s gam
e. If she was on the big screen, I swear every chick would want to be like her. She made me a stronger man.

  It was around eight pm, raining hard and we were sitting in her room. The lights were dim. Pre surgery Michael Jackson jammed on the stereo. Groans were coming from the living room. Her mother’s flavor of the month, a husky dude from South Carolina, couldn’t get enough. It was a perfect time for some boots-knocking.

  Bria was studying and I tightened my grip around her waist. She knew for sure that this thing rising between us was stronger than a nuclear reaction. She was a sweet, hot sex-kitten and I was the lion meant to stroke her kitten.

  “Jaden, stop playing… I gotta get this done or I’m not gonna graduate!”

  I twisted her body to the bed. She wiggled like a fish to get free. She was pinned underneath me. I cupped her pretty face and laced her with wet kisses. She tried to slide closer to her books.

  “So, what’s the latest with the scholarships, Jaden? How many schools trying to snatch you…?”

  “Nebraska, Virginia Tech, Florida State, a few others I don’t care too much about,” I said and watched her sighing and pout. “What’s wrong, sugarlips?”

  “I’m a junior and you’re a senior. The minute you leave New York you’re gonna be chasing those nasty football groupies.”

  I saw a sadness in her eyes that came close to killing my sex drive.

  “There’s nothing to worry about, Bria. Do I ever go buck-wild with chicks after my games?”

  “Hmmm...”

  “I’ll never leave you. We’re meant to be,” I said stroking her hair. “I’d be a fool to mess with perfection, you feel me?”

  After high school I could either take my skills to a proven program like Wyoming and not see Bria for long stretches. Or, I could go to a not-so-hot college and be closer to my girl. I was sprung but not a dumb-ass. While I should have been focusing on getting paper, I’d fell in love. Bria slammed her book shut and turned back to me with a poker face.

  “And you better be careful with Nick and Eric, your loser friends.”