Animal by K'wan Foye Read Free Book Online Page A

bodega. When he realized who he was looking at, his heart leaped into his throat, and he almost cried out. He started to hit the horn, but caught himself. He wasn’t in New York on a social call and had to keep his focus on his mission.
    Ashanti had gotten taller since the last time Animal had seen him, but he still had the same baby face and wore the same mischievous scowl. His jeans were sagging off his ass so you could see his boxers and he was flamed up, with a red bandana tied around his neck and one hanging from his back pocket. His whole appearance screamed gang related, and he wore it like a badge of honor. Animal used to always warn Ashanti about making himself a target for rivals or the police, but big brother wasn’t around to scold him anymore so the youngster was marching to his own beat.
    On Ashanti’s heels was a young girl. She was short with a pretty face and curves so nice that you couldn’t help but to take a second look. From the way she moved Animal could tell she was too young for him to ever consider going in on, but she was just Ashanti’s speed. Animal smiled like a proud father as his young boy handled the girl with the poise of an old head. In all the years Animal had known Ashanti, this was his first time ever seeing him interact with a girl, outside of trying to avoid getting slapped for something he said or did. It was an emotional and proud moment for Animal, and he had no one he could share it with because he was supposed to be a ghost. Ashanti and the young girl ended the conversation, and he sent her on her wayin the direction of 3150, while he, himself, climbed back on his mountain bike and went his way.
    Seeing Ashanti made Animal think of young Nickels Clark and how what he planned to do would affect the grand scheme of Nickels’s life. He wondered how little Nickels would make it in the world if he was left to raise himself. Would he still chase his hoop dreams or become like the rest of them—another bastard child of the ghetto?

FIVE
    T HE PROJECT APARTMENT WAS A WHIRL OF noise and activity. In the kitchen, a crackhead named Patty stood over the stove, shuffling pots and adjusting the level of the flame as needed like a master chef. She took a pot off the stove and eyeballed it, making sure the cookielike object was in the bottom of it. Once the cookie began to coagulate, Patty removed the pot from the stove and placed it on the table, where two chicks sat chopping up the cookies that had hardened already and placed small pieces into baggies to be sold on the street. Welcome to the trap house.
    King James stood near the window staring out intently, stroking his goatee occasionally. He wore a red and white Nike tracksuit with the matching red and white Nikes. Hanging from his neck was a thick cable chain with a large medallion dangling at the end of it. The medallion was black onyx with a diamond-filled number seven nestled in a crescent moon. For all who saw it, the piece was a symbol of his faith and his ruthlessness.
    The sound of raised voices drew his attention from the windowto the middle of the living room. Two young men, Dee and Meek, sat on the couch in front of a big-screen television engaged in a heated game of NBA 2K12. Dee was getting the better of Meek, and Meek wasn’t happy about it, cursing every time he missed a shot. King James had tried ignoring them, but their bickering had finally gotten on his last nerves.
    “Fuck is y’all making all that noise for?” King snapped.
    “This nigga is mad because I’m getting in that ass,” Dee laughed.
    “Fuck you! The only reason you’re winning is because you got the Heat and I’m playing with these bum-ass Hawks,” Meek shot back.
    Dee flicked his thumb on the controller and nailed a three-pointer with Mario Chalmers. “My nigga, you could have the Dream Team and I’d still be busting your ass because you’re garbage!”
    King walked over and snatched the cord from the wall, abruptly ending their game.