CHAPTER ONE (partial):

 

“Is yo daddy gonna win that big fight?” the old potbellied cab driver asked, as he made his way inside the crowded barbershop and took a seat beside Antonio. His mouth hung open in anticipation. The young boy looked back at him puzzled, what the hell was he supposed to say? No, sir I think he’s going to lose? Sometimes, grown-ups asked the dumbest questions, Antonio thought. Ever since his father Zeke had landed a title fight for the heavyweight championship of the world, he’d been bombarded by stupid questions from everybody. “My daddy aint neva lost a fight he’s got 24 straight wins, I suppose after this fight it’ll be 25!”

 

                            

“21 by knockout.” Antonio’s older brother Zo added from the barber’s chair in front of them. “Sh-i-i-i-t, aint gonna be the same this go around,” the cab driver drawled, “this time here he’s facing the champ! Mr Wallace Prim an he aint neva lost either!”

 

“Well his ass gone lose tomorrow!” A deep voice resounded from seemingly nowhere. The entire barber shop turned to acknowledge Zeke Richards as he emerged from the office in the rear of the barbershop. With the title fight just around the corner, his already imposing 6ft 4inch frame seemed somehow larger than life. His stature was unmistakably that of a man who knew full well that history rest in his hands.

 

As Zeke gathered his two sons and exited the barbershop, it was not whether or not he could take Wallace Prim that worried him the most though, it was his conscience, and it proved a far more formidable opponent.

 

A group of prominent small businessmen that controlled the gambling action in the neighborhood had promised Zeke 4 times as much as his purse, to throw the fight, and it sounded tempting. Even more disturbing than that was, although he never actually agreed to accept the offer, he was somehow being congratulated for cooperating, and the fix was already in, without any confirmation on his behalf. They had just assumed Zeke would go for whatever proposition they placed on the table. Behind his back people were calling him stupid for accepting the 5,000 dollar bribe without any negotiating whatsoever. The stupid label was the only thing Zeke had never been able to lick, no matter how hard good a left hook he packed!

 

Before Zeke Richards ever became the number one contender for the title, he earned a living as an enforcer for a small but well organized syndicate. That organization controlled everything from numbers rackets, to drugs, to prostitution, and Zeke provided the muscle. It was rough way to make a living, especially since it involved a life of violent crime in one of Miami’s most dangerous neighborhoods.