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Pat A pat.mysterywriter@gmail. com

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Latin Boyz
by Pat A pat.mysterywriter@gmail. com   

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Books by Pat A pat.mysterywriter@gmail. com
· Forest of Corpses
· Geography of Murder
· L.A. Heat
· L.A. Mischief
                >> View all



Publisher:  AmberQuill Press ISBN-10:  1611249244


Copyright:  March 21, 2012 ISBN-13:  9781611249248

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Latin Boyz

Gabe's entire world is gang-ridden Cypress Park, in South Central L.A. He dreams of escaping and rescuing the rest of his family before the gang jumps him or finishes the hit on him. Gabe's life is further complicated when the shooters return and young LAPD officer Alejandro Cerveras answers the 911 call. To the

Thanksgiving, Cypress Park, South-Central Los Angeles

P-Bull swung the thugged-out Buick onto Merced Street.

Sadboy shoved the barrel of his gun out the car window. “Gonna get us a piece of White Fence ass,” he screamed. “Bang, bang. Fucking lame-ass chuntaros!”

“I’m down with it.” P-Bull jacked a load into his Raven and checked the sight. Beside him Sadboy rocked and grinned and waved the chrome around. Happy as a shitbird. “Don’t go shooting your ass off, mijo.”

P-Bull knew this street. He grew up here. He rolled past yards he’d spilled blood in years ago, before the Locusts jumped him in. Down the street little kids played some little kid game, making noise. Old chocho pushed a lawn mower and spit grass all over his skinny legs. The puta, Gabe’s mother, and his sister, Nattie, came out of the house beside the White Fence crib. That little girl gettin’ all grown up. Gonna have to pay her a visit soon. That sweet little fox about ready to meet a real man.

“There he is!” Sadboy shouted when a scrawny boy P-Bull recognized as Ruiz, the new White Fence banger, came out of the house. Sadboy bounced on the Buick’s seat, waving his chrome around. P-Bull was gonna tell him to cool it when the fool opened fire. He yipped and hollered while he sprayed the front of the houses with brass. “The White Fence pussy ocho make a run for it.”

P-Bull lit in a second later, blowing the running man down. Gabe’s mother ducked. Her and Gabe's sister went down in a tangle, her fine strong legs in the air for everyone to see. Man, he had to get a taste of that.

“Where you from now!” Sadboy screamed. He punched P-Bull’s shoulder. “Lay it down.”

P-Bull stared at the front yard where the old woman and daughter lay sprawled on the ground. “Later, Sancha.”

Gabe flew down the stairs. P-Bull laughed. When the man who had once been his best friend screamed and fell to his knees beside his mother, P-Bull's lip curled.

"Balless coward, should go back and cap your ass." Before he could throw the Buick into reverse, a black and white, followed by another screamed around the corner. P-Bull slipped the Raven under his belt.

Sadboy grew so excited, P-Bull thought sure he'd start firing out the car window again like Clint Eastwood as some baddass cop. P-Bull reached over and clipped the back of Sadboy's head.

"Idiot, you lookin' to get 5-0 after us? Put that away."

Sadboy sullenly did, glowering at the dashboard.

P-Bull slipped the car into first, driving slowly, to avert 5-0's attention.

He cranked the music up, rocking to words about killing cops and banging whores. His hand slapped against the car door in beat to the rap.
All the time he watched the activity behind him.

The cops swarmed out of their cars. One checked Ruiz, then spoke into his shoulder mic. The others approached Gabe, guns coming out when Gabe stared at them blankly, not reacting to what they were telling him to do.

P-Bull couldn’t hear the words but he knew what was coming. Gabe ignored 5-0 and crawled over to his sister, cradling her in his arms. Both cops screamed and drew nearer.

Even from the slowly moving car, P-Bull could see the blood on both Gabe and his sister. From beside Sadboy, he roared when one cop, female, finally proned Gabe out, yanked his hands behind his back. She hauled him, his face and T-Shirt soaked in crimson, to the curb and stuffed him in the back of a cruiser.

“Don’t need to P-Bull threw his head back and laughed.

"5-0 do it for us." With 5-0’s attention somewhere else, he turned the car down a narrow alley to Pepper.

Once on Cypress, P-Bull laughed and punched down on the gas, spewing oily smoke and burnt rubber when they left Pepper passing Merced where cops and ambulances turned the street into a carnival of lights.

P-Bull didn’t hear any sirens following them while they fled to Eagle Rock, looking to chase some dragon.

“Takin’ care of business,” he said and knuckled Sadboy. “Right on. Locusts rule!”

“Fuckin’ A.” Sadboy giggled. “You see that cabrão go down? Fuck White Fence.”

“Fuck ’em all.”

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