Back in the Hood Read Online Free Page B
Author: Treasure Hernandez
duffel bag to the backseat. Heâd come to the decision that heâd give up the streets for her, to make sure the two of them would be straight when they started their new life together elsewhere. First, though, he had to get a few kiâs off. Even if he was on his way out the game, he wasnât taking any losses.
The doctors said that Halleighâs hospital stay would be around three weeks, which gave him three weeks to get papered up.
Hand-over-fist sales were a thing of the past for Malek. He was a duffel-bag boy, but he was anything but little. In the backseat of his car, he carried a life sentence with himâfifty kilos of cocaine. Jamaica Joe had already left him with a meal ticket, so he didnât have to work another day of his life if he didnât want to, but Malek wanted stupid money.
Malek wasnât trying to ball out for himself. He was trying to build generational wealth that he could pass down to his children and his childrenâs children. He wanted security and was willing to put his life on the line to ensure that his family would be able to eat without struggling. He had watched his own mother fret over money for years. She was always robbing Peter to pay Paul, and that was something he refused to make Halleigh do. Now that she was pregnant with his baby, he felt obligated to take care of her forever.
Malek didnât have time to distribute the bricks on the streets. He couldnât hit anyone with consignment. He only had three weeks to get the dope off, and if he gave a nigga anything on credit and didnât get the return on his money, he would have to kill him, and that wasnât no front. That was on the real. He couldnât risk it. He couldnât jeopardize himself like that, because he had a girl and a baby on the way, and they were depending on him. Halleigh had given him an ultimatum, and he knew she meant what sheâd said. In so many words, if Malek didnât retire from the dope game, then Halleigh would leave him and take his seed with her. He couldnât have that.
He spun through the city streets, acknowledging his street fame, giving head nods to the corner hustlers who noticed him and showed love. He would miss the game, but not the treachery that came along with it. He had seen a lot of people murdered, trying to be boss, and he himself had taken a lot of lives on his way to the top. Now it was time to pass the crown, which he knew Mitch would be more than willing to acceptâthat is, after he helped Malek get off those fifty kiâs.
âWhatâs on your mind, Mitch? Iâve been trying to throw this pussy at you all morning, and you been brushing me off, acting all brand-new. Whatâs up witâ you anyway?â Keesha fussed as she sat up on the bed in frustration and hit a strawberry blunt.
âHalleigh was in the rehab center when it got shââ
Keesha didnât even let Mitch finish his sentence. She smacked her lips in disgust. âHalleigh? Why are you so concerned about Halleigh? Iâm tired of every nigga in the city acting like that bitch pussy canât get funky. Let me remind you of something, baby boy: Halleigh is Malekâs girl, and you work for Malek. Youâre like his little bitch almost,â she said with a patronizing smirk. âThat muâfucka say jump, and you and the rest of these small-time-ass niggas asking how high.â Keesha choked on her words because of the weed smoke. As she held her head back to let the smoke ease slowly from her lips, she closed her eyes.
SLAP!
Mitch slapped the shit out of her, causing her to fall off the bed, the blunt falling on top of her and burning the side of her face.
âLet me tell you something, ma.â Mitch got on top of her and gripped his hand around her throat. âI donât know how you talk to Manolo or that faggot-ass nigga, Sweets, but you better bite your tongue when you with me. You hear me?â Mitch
The doctors said that Halleighâs hospital stay would be around three weeks, which gave him three weeks to get papered up.
Hand-over-fist sales were a thing of the past for Malek. He was a duffel-bag boy, but he was anything but little. In the backseat of his car, he carried a life sentence with himâfifty kilos of cocaine. Jamaica Joe had already left him with a meal ticket, so he didnât have to work another day of his life if he didnât want to, but Malek wanted stupid money.
Malek wasnât trying to ball out for himself. He was trying to build generational wealth that he could pass down to his children and his childrenâs children. He wanted security and was willing to put his life on the line to ensure that his family would be able to eat without struggling. He had watched his own mother fret over money for years. She was always robbing Peter to pay Paul, and that was something he refused to make Halleigh do. Now that she was pregnant with his baby, he felt obligated to take care of her forever.
Malek didnât have time to distribute the bricks on the streets. He couldnât hit anyone with consignment. He only had three weeks to get the dope off, and if he gave a nigga anything on credit and didnât get the return on his money, he would have to kill him, and that wasnât no front. That was on the real. He couldnât risk it. He couldnât jeopardize himself like that, because he had a girl and a baby on the way, and they were depending on him. Halleigh had given him an ultimatum, and he knew she meant what sheâd said. In so many words, if Malek didnât retire from the dope game, then Halleigh would leave him and take his seed with her. He couldnât have that.
He spun through the city streets, acknowledging his street fame, giving head nods to the corner hustlers who noticed him and showed love. He would miss the game, but not the treachery that came along with it. He had seen a lot of people murdered, trying to be boss, and he himself had taken a lot of lives on his way to the top. Now it was time to pass the crown, which he knew Mitch would be more than willing to acceptâthat is, after he helped Malek get off those fifty kiâs.
âWhatâs on your mind, Mitch? Iâve been trying to throw this pussy at you all morning, and you been brushing me off, acting all brand-new. Whatâs up witâ you anyway?â Keesha fussed as she sat up on the bed in frustration and hit a strawberry blunt.
âHalleigh was in the rehab center when it got shââ
Keesha didnât even let Mitch finish his sentence. She smacked her lips in disgust. âHalleigh? Why are you so concerned about Halleigh? Iâm tired of every nigga in the city acting like that bitch pussy canât get funky. Let me remind you of something, baby boy: Halleigh is Malekâs girl, and you work for Malek. Youâre like his little bitch almost,â she said with a patronizing smirk. âThat muâfucka say jump, and you and the rest of these small-time-ass niggas asking how high.â Keesha choked on her words because of the weed smoke. As she held her head back to let the smoke ease slowly from her lips, she closed her eyes.
SLAP!
Mitch slapped the shit out of her, causing her to fall off the bed, the blunt falling on top of her and burning the side of her face.
âLet me tell you something, ma.â Mitch got on top of her and gripped his hand around her throat. âI donât know how you talk to Manolo or that faggot-ass nigga, Sweets, but you better bite your tongue when you with me. You hear me?â Mitch
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