Prince of the City Read Online Free

big, ugly ass. He’d been down for about fifteen years, and everyone had heard the stories of how he raped and robbed people. He ran the compound as if it were his kingdom, and whenever some good heroin hit the compound, all inmates had better watch their belongings, because either he was pulling a knife to take it, or he was breaking into someone’s locker. Brutus was considered without a doubt or contradiction, a real gorilla within a jungle of men.
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    As Michael reached the dorm, his mind raced back and forth from his child to his wife. He knew he was going up against death itself. If he came bullshitting with this gorilla, most likely he would be killed. On the other hand, if he killed this gorilla and got caught, he could get life and remain in prison until his death. Either way, Michael knew he was faced with death, but something inside him wouldn’t let it go. He had to claim his mark, state his position, and become the ruler of his surroundings.
    Michael went into the dorm, wet a towel with water, rolled it up, and neatly placed it around his neck to protect his jugular vein, and then tucked the tails inside his sweatshirt. He then taped a thick stack of National Geographic magazines to his chest and sides. Since Brutus had just gotten his dope a half hour ago, he would still be high, so this was the proper time for Michael to make his move.
    Before going into the back of the dorm where Brutus normally got high, Michael looked around for any signs of the CO or known snitches. Seeing that his way was perfectly clear, he headed toward the back, not knowing what his fate would be, but having no fear. When he walked into the bathroom and closed the door, he saw Brutus sitting on the sink nodding from his last blast. As Brutus looked up at Michael, a sneaky grin appeared on his face.
    â€œYeah, nigga, I took your shit. And from now on, whenever you go to the canteen, you make sure you come and get my list first,” Brutus said. “Now get your bitch ass outta here before I take your manhood and stick my dick in your ass.”
    Brutus was enormously big and known to have a one-punch knockout. On top of that, he stayed strapped. Michael knew he couldn’t turn back. Brutus had crossed the line of no return. Although it was over some petty-ass tennis shoes and cigarettes, the value of the items weren’t the point. It was about principle and respect, and whenever a man’s principle and respect were violated, justice must then take its course. On top of that, if Michael were to let it slide, every gorilla on the compound would be taking shots at him, assuming he was weak.
    When Brutus got down off the sink, he gave Michael the coldest stare, and his eyes reflected death. “Nigga, didn’t I tell your bitch ass to get the fuck outta here? What’s wrong? Is you deaf? Did I stutta, muthafucka?”
    As Brutus reached into his waist for his knife, Michael slid the long blade from under the sleeve of his sweatshirt while looking Brutus directly in the eyes. Just as Brutus pulled his knife from the front of his waistband, Michael plunged the lawnmower blade straight through the middle of his torso. The blade was so sharp that when he pushed inward, it went through Brutus’s body as if he were cutting butter.
    Before Michael could remove the knife from Brutus’s stomach, Brutus grabbed Michael’s sweatshirt and stabbed Michael on the right side of his body near his lungs. Although Michael was strapped with magazines, Brutus exerted so much force that his knife went straight through the magazines and poked Michael’s flesh, luckily never breaking the skin. Brutus held Michael so close that he didn’t have enough room to pull his blade from Brutus’s stomach. So instead of taking it out, Michael grabbed hold of the lawnmower blade with both hands and jerked it upward, tearing the insides of Brutus’s guts. The harder he jerked, the lighter