Z-BRUH , livre ebook

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events in this book are the products of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Z-BRUH
Published by Gatekeeper Press
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Columbus, OH 43123-2989
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Copyright 2021 Cruddy World LLC
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Library of Congress Control Number:
ISBN (paperback): 9781662920233
eISBN: 9781662921049
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Z-Bruh has ran his D.C. neighborhood and crew with an iron fist for over 10 years. He s finally ready to leave the streets and invest in legit business which is met by disbelief from friends and family. When something goes wrong at the final re-up it begins a domino effect of bad events for Z-Bruh and his crew which could prove to be costly. Will Z-Bruh be able to pick up the pieces and still retire or will his exit from the game land him in jail or even worse the grave.
CHAPTER 1
S ilence as the Greyhound bus drove across the bridge from Virginia to Washington, D.C. Zee Zeeley was his given name but everybody in the streets of D.C. called him Z-Bruh. Z-Bruh thought long and hard as he gazed across the Potomac River. His trip to Richmond, Va went smooth as usual but the words of his gun connect seemed to echo in his head the whole bus ride back. Get out the game while you still can . These words had him in a daze that he immediately snapped out of when he heard an elderly woman next to him ask Are you ok young man ? Yes mam, just in deep thought, I m cool. Think long, think wrong, replied the elderly woman with a smile. Z-Bruh looked down at his gym bag he had placed on the floor that contained 10 newly purchased guns wrapped up in his clothes. He glanced at the elderly woman and thought there s no one better to having riding next to me on a mission like this and he was right. He had already decided the minute she had taken the seat next to him to help the lady off the bus and through the station once they arrived. It was highly unlikely the cops would stop a guy helping an elderly lady. They would probably assume that s just a guy helping his grandma or someone being a good samaritan, not a Kingpin transporting guns from Virginia s state capital back to the nation s capital. Z-Bruh texted his homie CJ - I ll be at the station in about 10 mins. CJ replied I m already here waiting . Z-bruh put his phone back in his pocket and sat back in his seat. I m done , he thought to himself. In that short bus ride back from Virginia Z-Bruh had made up his mind that he was done with the game, done with the streets. But over the years selling drugs became just as addictive if you were using them, so he knew he couldn t just quit cold turkey. New leadership had to be named, the connect had to be notified, and his whole crew had to be on the same page. He knew retirement was a process and he planned to make it simple, quick, and beneficial to all parties involved. The biggest step so far was turning toward the exit door of the game now all he had to do was march his size 10 New Balance out of that door. No turning back now, he made this difficult decision and was ready to live with it. Most Hustlers don t get to leave the game on their own terms. They re usually forced out by the police or even worse the grim reaper, so to gracefully bow out would be a blessing to a hustler. Z-Bruh had talked about leaving the game alone before but was never really serious. Now it was time. He had started his crew about 15years ago when he was about 17 years old. A small hood in South East D.C. near Fort Dupont Park is where Z-Bruh made a name for himself. Fighting in Go-Go s, hustling weed and crack up and down Minnesota Ave., robbing, stealing, Shooting, just doing whatever for a fierce reputation. His crew consisted of three parts: Homies, Soldiers, and Workers. The homies were Shazz, the second in command and Z-Bruh s hot-headed cousin, CJ the third in command and Z-Bruh s childhood friend, and Malik the fourth in command, Shazz little brother and Z-Bruh s little cousin. By the time Z-Bruh was 22 yrs old he had his whole hood on lock. Over 10 workers, about 8 trap houses, plenty of cocaine, more guns than a gun store, and plenty of respect to go along with it. No one played with Z-Bruh s Crew, they knew how to get money but also how to make any problem disappear. After years of drug dealing, beefing with rival crews, avoiding incarceration all while making a lot of dead presidents, Z-Bruh was tired. His decision seemed to be confirmed as the bus pulled into the bus station and he saw two Metropolitan Police officers and one k-9 standing by the station s entrance. As the bus came to a stop and the doors opened Z-Bruh asked the elderly woman, Can I give you a hand with your bags mam? Bless your heart, you re an angel replied the elderly woman. Z-Bruh grabbed her bags along with his and followed closely behind the elderly woman off the bus. He had more than enough guns to land him in a federal penitentiary for a few decades but tried to remain as calm as possible as he passed by the officers. One the officers spoke, Welcome to D.C. the elderly woman responded with a thank you while Z-Bruh just gave a slight head nod as they continued inside. Once inside the elderly woman said you can put my bags right here as she came to a stop next to a row of seats. How much do I owe you? she asked. Z-Bruh shook his head and replied nothing mam, you have a good day . The elderly woman smiled as she took her seat and said thanks, you too . Z-Bruh quickly proceeded to the exit hoping CJ was outside and ready to go. CJ took one last pull off his Newport before plucking it onto the sidewalk. He checked his G-shock then started to walk back to the entrance of the bus station. It had been 15mins Since he had received Z-Bruh s text and he was starting to become worried. CJ stood at the front near 2 youngins who were banging on a few buckets with drumsticks. Playing the beat of the D.C. streets, the soundtrack of the Nation s Cap, Go-Go music. CJ took out a $20 and dropped it in a tip can that sat right in front of the drumming youth. Cj stepped back, looked and seen Z-Bruh coming out the bus station doors bobbing his head and bouncing saying all say what who s your crew? CJ came back responding All nigga what This back and forth between them was the patent call and response of Go-Go. The band would call out and the crowd would respond. This exchange between the homies made the youngins start to play harder and louder. Z-Bruh walked over to CJ and gave him the hood handshake then tossed a $20 into the youngins can. The 2 homies both began to walk to CJ s 16 Buick parked about 10 ft. away from the bus station doors. Z-Bruh and CJ looked so much alike they were sometimes mistaken as Brothers. Both 6 feet tall give or take, around 180lbs, short haircuts with little facial hair. Only differences are Z-Bruh was a little bit darker and had tattoo s from his neck to his stomach and on both arms. Minus those distinctions, they were brothers from another. No one in the crew was closer to Z-Bruh then CJ. Since they were youngins running from park police through the Park, they ve been by each other s side. Z-Bruh thought that CJ should be the first to know because CJ would be real about his opinion and speak from the heart, not be a yes man like some others. The two got in the car and CJ lit his backwood full of good o.g. Kush, and took two puffs before starting the vehicle. He hit it twice more before passing it to Z-Bruh then pulled How did your trip go cuz? asked CJ. Z-Bruh exhaled slowly as he opened the bag and let his man get a peek. Lovely champ, said Z-Bruh, passing the j back. CJ s eyes got big looking at the assortment of handguns in between the clothes. Slim you jive came off! CJ said with Excitement. No question! Z-Bruh responded I got 4 p-89 9-millimeter Rugers, 4 .45 Glock 30 s and 2 .40cal Taurus millennials. Z-Bruh explained to his homie. The gun plug came through in the clutch again said CJ as they both laughed. Z-Bruh tosses the end of the j as they stop at a light on H street heading towards Benning Rd. While stopped at the red light Z-Bruh reminisces on a shoot out he and his cousin Shazz had years ago at the H street day festival. Aye CJ, you know Shazz almost got me and him killed right here years ago? Yeah I remember you telling me Shazz had started purpin on bama s or something . Jive like said Z-Bruh. Shazz Was drunk and started lunching for no reason, next thing you know slim pistols was pulled and Bullets were flying everywhere! We were outnumbered. It was just us 2 against like 8 dudes that all had hammers! How y all get out that joint alive? wondered CJ. Slim, we ran and ducked behind cars. Shazz covered me while I ran to the alley then I covered him while he ran to where I took cover. We just stayed low and maneuvered till we no longer heard shots. Damn champ That story calls for another j said CJ reaching down into the center console for a pre-rolled J. Z-Bruh nodded and replied, I ain t gone argue with that, it s a blessing we still alive brother, th