Cigar Bar Read Free Page A

in the direction of the speeding car. Pop! Pop! Pop!
    He almost lost control when he got to the corner, hitting the curb while trying to turn. The speeding automobile did a 360, slammed into two other cars, and got stuck. Paulie and his boys were firing at his car while running toward him but Tony didn’t stop. He kept his hand pressed down on the gas until the car ripped away from the other. He careened out of there, and all the gangsters could see was a screeching car whiz down the street. They had no chance to chase him because Paulie had sent his car down the block earlier to look for his sister.
    “Fuck!” Paulie shouted. Then he turned and ran back to the basement. When he got there, he saw Mrs. Santoro holding Sherry’s head and wiping her face with a cold towel.
    “Call for help!” she screamed at Paulie. He looked at his little sister with sadness, anger, and disgust. She was high. He thought, Not only did that motherfucker violate you, but he drugged you up too.
    “Paulie, what the hell is going on?” asked Mrs. Santoro.
    Paulie could do nothing but stare down at his little sister, who was zoned out, lost in another world. He walked over to Sherry and picked her up. As Paulie walked out of the house, Mrs. Santoro grabbed a blanket from the bed and covered the young girl’s naked body.
    His crew was stunned. The guys couldn’t believe what they were seeing. They knew that no matter what, Paulie was not to be messed with. One of them opened the front door for the boss. He walked his little sister in and carefully sat her down on the couch. He was in just as much of a trance as Sherry was.
    As soon as he got there, Sherry turned her head and threw up on him several times. He was so distraught that he didn’t even bother to wipe it off. For the first time in his life, Paulie felt powerless. Then his anger grew again, deep within him, and he knew what his next move would be. He walked out and called his crew.
    “Listen, fuck the nigger for now. We have bigger problems to deal with, so turn the fuckin’ cars around and find Tony! I want this motherfucker brought to me alive! You can whoop his ass, but do not fuckin’ kill him! You got it?”
    With that, his crew disappeared, each man cocking his gun as if he was preparing for war. Little did they know, a war was brewing right around the bend, a war that one man had planned on having.
    Paulie had temporarily forgotten about the crew in Harlem that he had disrespected over the phone a short time earlier. He incorrectly believed that the man he had insulted would just bend over and take it just like everybody else. But he was wrong. Dead wrong. Paulie was screwing with the GC crew.
    Spazo
    Spazo was a member of the GC Crew, a gang that he had formed with his partner Ghetto. GC stood for Ghetto Child. They were young boys making a lot of noise out in the streets, and everybody knew who they were. They acted out a lot while growing up. They always got into some trouble and were always fighting. The two were straight-up bad boys until they earned the respect from the people. Now people feared them.
    Ghetto was from Newark and Spazo was from the Polo Grounds in Harlem. Ghetto’s family lived in Harlem. The two became best friends, hanging out, traveling around together, and doing dirt until they grew smarter.
    They each had their own style. Ghetto was smooth but dangerous, and most people feared him. People knew not to mess with him. His style was fly: jeans and sneakers, sweatshirts and diamonds. He had a closetful of expensive kicks. He drove a black-on-black big-boy Mercedes V-12 with low-profile tires.
    Spazo wore expensive suits. He was a dark-skin brother with deep dimples and muscles that ripped through his clothing. He fancied his muscular body, working out every day in his custom-built gym. Women loved the hell out of him. He brushed his hair quite often, forming waves as tight as the ocean. He considered himself a simple man, although he wore $3000 Armani