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“Easy ... I like that name.”
    Early took his young new protégé to McDonald’s to fill his empty belly and then to the shopping mall to buy some new clothes. After a shower and a few hours of sleep, Eric felt like a new person. Early took Easy under his tutelage and they formed a quick bond. Easy didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Early promised to protect him, and he did just that.
    â€œPunch this punk bitch one more time,” Early instructed, twirling the end of his mustache nonchalantly. Easy did as he was told. He pulled back his fist and laid it into his uncle Doobey’s lower abdomen one more time.
    â€œAggh,” Doobey coughed. Early laughed.
    â€œYou ain’t so tough now, are you?” Early hawked up a mucus-filled wad of spit and spewed it into the center of Doobey’s face. “I ain’t got no respect for a bitch-ass man who puts his hands on a helpless kid,” Early observed as his follow-up.
    Easy looked on as one of Early’s henchmen kicked Doobey square in the balls. His aunt would definitely not be producing any more children in the years to come. Watching Doobey double over in excruciating pain gave Easy a sense of satisfaction that he’d never felt before. Revenge felt like a drug he could indulge in often.
    The beating continued for what seemed like an eternity. “I’m sick of looking at this chump-ass pussy. Take his ass outta my sight,” Early instructed.
    His workers hoisted Doobey’s badly battered body from the floor. They stopped in front of Easy. Early walked over and grabbed a handful of Doobey’s Afro and lifted up his head.
    â€œSay sorry to this fuckin’ kid,” Early instructed.
    Doobey moaned. His lips were so swollen that Easy couldn’t even understand his words.
    â€œDid you hear him say ‘sorry’?” Early asked Easy.
    Easy nodded his head up and down. He didn’t think he was ready to watch someone he knew die.
    Easy never saw Doobey or any of his family members after that day. He worked for Early, and in his Brooklyn neighborhood that meant something. No-body fucked with him anymore; in fact, he was gaining a lot of respect around his way.
    Easy’s job was to pick up packages from a Spanish dude in the Bronx and bring the goods back to Early. Early paid Easy $100 for each delivery, which was more money than Easy had ever seen in his life. He grew to love the feel and the smell of money, and the freedom it could buy him. With Early’s generous pay-checks, Easy bought his own clothes, his own food and anything else that he desired. Early even provided a roof over Easy’s head by offering him a cot to sleep on in the small living space in the back of his pool hall.
    Easy quickly became known at the hangout spot and all around the neighborhood as “Early’s kid.” Easy liked being claimed by someone; it made him feel wanted. He looked up to Early, and he wanted to be just like him.
    Easy would stand in the tiny pool hall bathroom and practice walking, talking and looking like Early. Over the years Early would kick little jewels of knowledge to Easy, like telling him to never, ever trust a man who couldn’t look him in the eye.
    â€œIf a man can’t look you straight in the eye,” Early lectured, “the man is hiding his real self.”
    Early had even gotten Easy his first piece of ass. The advice that followed was invaluable.
    â€œNever fall in love with your first,” Early had lectured. “If you do, you’ll never have shit to compare it with, so you’ll never know what you’re missing out on.”
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    Tuck wondered how much Candy knew about her father’s upbringing. There was so much more to Eric Hardaway than met the eye, and so many loose ends that needed tying up.

Chapter 5
    Deal with the Devil
    Candice followed the small Hispanic woman with her eyes. The petite, raven-haired woman balanced a