Free The Family Business by Eric Pete, Carl Weber Page A

us.”
    “Fuck that. I ain’t going out there.” I reached inside my bag and pulled out the little semiautomatic .22 Junior had given me a few years back. I pulled back the hammer and let a bullet slide into the chamber.
    Trevor was staring at me with more fear than he had for the men outside committing the robbery.
    “What?” I snarled.
    “You have a gun?”
    “Ah, yeah,” I said sarcastically. “This is New York City we live in, not Disneyland. My sister was almost raped ten years ago. I don’t go anywhere unless I’m strapped.”
    Bang! Bang! Bang! Three more shots. Poor Trevor started shaking so bad, I thought he was about to have a nervous breakdown.
    “Oh God, they’re gonna kill us,” he whispered. “They are going to kill us.”
    With my free hand I reached into my bag for my cell phone and started dialing.
    “Who you calling? The police?” He looked relieved, but that didn’t stop his tears from falling.
    “Hell no. You can call the police. I’m calling my brother.” Sure, I talked a lot of shit about Orlando leading the family, but when the chips were down, he was the one who always got my ass out of the fire. I just hoped he could get me out of this.
    The phone rang six times and then was answered by Orlando’s voice mail. I didn’t even give it time to finish playing the full message before I hung up and dialed Junior’s number. I probably should have called my father, but the last thing I wanted him to know was that I was out at a club and had gotten myself into a situation I couldn’t handle.
    “Hello.”
    “Junior, I’m in trouble. Big trouble.”
    “What do you mean, you’re in trouble?”
    “I’m at that spot on Sterling Place, the Nightlife Café, and some dudes just busted in the club and are robbing the place. Me and Trevor are in the bathroom, but it’s not gonna be long before one of them figures out that we’re in here.”
    I could hear him sigh, but then he flipped on me. “Didn’t Orlando tell you to keep your ass out of Brooklyn?” he yelled.
    “Yeah, Junior, but Orlando ain’t my—” I stopped myself, remembering what my father had told me about thinking things through before I spoke. Now was not the time to be starting a fight with my brother when I needed his help. “Yeah,” I started again with a more respectful tone. “He did, and I should have listened, but that ain’t gonna help me right now. I need you to tell me what to do.”
    He sighed again. “You on the first floor or second floor?”
    “First floor.”
    “Is there a window?”
    I looked around. “Yeah, but it’s small.”
    “See if it will open, and then get your asses outta there.”
    Damn, with everything happening so fast, I didn’t even think about looking for a window, and obviously neither did Trevor.
    I pulled the phone from my ear and turned to Trevor, who’d just ended a call. “Trevor, see if that window will open.”
    He ran over to the window and pulled it, but it opened only halfway, probably to prevent people from sneaking in. “It won’t open all the way. We won’t fit.”
    I studied the window. “You won’t fit, but I will.”
    He looked at the small opening, then at me. “You really going out that window?”
    “Yep, if you give me a boost.”
    For a quick second, he looked pissed, like I was deserting him, but then he finally manned up, cupping his hands for me to step into them.
    “I’ll call you when I’m outside,” I promised.
    He took a deep breath. “All right, you go ahead. I’ll be okay. The cops are on their way. I’ll meet you at the car when this is all over.”
    “Nah. My people are on the way—and trust me, you don’t wanna be here when my brother shows up. He’s not gonna be a happy camper, and he’s gonna blame it all on you.”
    “But-”
    “Time to go.” I threw my bag out the window. “Bye, Trevor.” I gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “I had fun.”
    “Paris, please. I had a good time. I know I’m a little bit nerdy by