In My Hood Read Online Free Page A

mouths hanging open, trying to think of something to say. Ishmael shook his head at the boys in disappointment. He reached into his pocket. The boys backed up out of fear. Everybody knew that Ishmael always carried a hammer.
    “I’m not feeling this situation right now. I’m feeling violated,” Ishmael stated as he popped a piece of violet candy in his mouth that he had retrieved from his pocket.
    “Naw, Ish man, it ain’t like that,” Rich said.
    “Rich, you’ll never make lieutenant, let alone be one of my top soldiers at the rate you’re going.” He narrowed his eyes, and a frown came across his face. “Y’all mafuckas get back on your post. And my grip better be right,” he said, growling.
    The boys took off running like scared rabbits, holding up their sagging jeans.
    Ishmael looked back at his boy Derrick approaching and shook his head.
    “Rik man, I don’t know what’s up with these knuckleheads. I need me some real soldiers,” Ishmael told his friend.
    “Yeah, like the old squad we had back in the day,” Derrick agreed.
    “Yeah, man, and the fucked-up thing about it is these little mafuckas constantly try me at all times. I see I’m gonna have to make an example outta one of them hard-headed niggaz to send a message to the rest.”
    Derrick nodded in agreement and kept sucking on the toothpick that protruded from the corner of his mouth.
    The two men continued to watch over the strip to make sure everything was on point. Most men in Ishmael’s position would send their lieutenants out to check on things, but not Ishmael. He was always on the grind, checking up on his blocks personally. He never wanted to be that type of cat who sent messages; he wanted his runners to know that he was still very much in the game. In fact, he and Derrick had just arrived back in town. They had been gone for two weeks from checking up on his territories in other states. He felt that hugging the blocks would boost workers’ morale and insure that business would be on point. His hands never got dirty by handling the product, but trust and believe he was there to make sure his grip was right.
    Back in the day, Ishmael and Derrick terrorized the town. Not that they weren’t still feared, but over the years, they had matured and were more educated in the game. Back then they were wild gun-busting, didn’t-give-a-fuck type dudes who were on the come-up and did whatever it took to get money.
    Ishmael had a squad of real soldiers behind him then. Their loyalty was unbelievable. Most of his soldiers would take a bullet for him like they were secret service men and he was the president. He treated them well and kept their pockets fat. Everybody who was linked to Ishmael ate well. But those times were gone. Most of his loyal soldiers were either dead or doing crazy numbers in prison. Ishmael kept their commentary laced for those who were locked up.
    The two men stopped in front of the local bodega.
    “Rik man, go cop me some more candy and a Black and Mild.”
    Derrick nodded, twirled the toothpick in his mouth, and disappeared into the store. Ishmael leaned up against the building and continued to survey the area.
    Ishmael was thirty years old, and he stood six-two. His body was built like a running back. His complexion was dark and smooth. He had a thin mustache and long, thin sideburns that connected to his thin-shaved beard. He had shoulder-length zig-zag-designed cornrows all going to the back. He was laced with an iced-out necklace with a cross medallion covered with tiny diamonds. His attire was thuggish but stylishly neat. He was a lady’s chocolate dream.
    Ishmael saw one of his loyal workers approaching.
    “What’s up, Ish?”
    “What’s good, D?” Ishmael said to one of his last committed soldiers whose name was Damon.
    The two men shook hands and bumped shoulders.
    “It’s all good, baby.”
    “That’s what’s up.” Ishmael nodded. “You heard anything from that kid Rallo?”
    “Naw, man. The crew