A thick trail of smoke rises upwards, assaulting my eyes with its potent force. I grab the lit cigar hanging from my mouth by its middle and pull it from my mouth, exhaling a plume of smoke about as thick directly in front of me, into the faces of the two men seated across the table. One of them, a tall skinny black man wearing a Yankees hat waves the shit outta his face but the other guy and coughs. The other guy, his little brother; short, squat, and built like a fucking brick shithouse simply smirks at me and lays his hands on the edge of the flimsy ass table separating us. The still smoldering remains of a cigar hang outta his mouth too, smokeless but burning nonetheless. We sit at this flimsy ass table in the middle of the main room of a vacant apartment building, on ratty fucking steel folding chairs and while we sit in silence, I start to get a little impatient. Though, I guess I can't blame them for being just a little bit suspicious about the chick sitting beside me, shaking like a beaten dog. After a few more seconds of this goddamn quiet, Bones, the tall one clears his throat and asks for the fifth fucking time:

"And yo' sure she ain't a cop?"

Which makes me laugh and shake my damn fucking head like I was Peter Gilmour or something.

"No, I'm not a cop."

Well yeah, I guess I coulda said something but Kendall's a big girl. She can talk for herself, shit she talked nonstop most of the fucking time anyway so I just motion to her and nod.

"Yeah man, you heard it right from her and you know cops can't lie about not being cops."

"Man that's some bullshit and we both know it. That shit's how Jimmy went down."

"Jimmy was a fuckin' idiot so it ain't like we lost much on that one anyway. But yeah, she ain't a cop so cool your fuckin' self. You think I'd help out a cop? Nah man, she's a fuckin' pro wrestler, stop being so goddamn paranoid."

Both Bones and J look at her, confused, before looking back at me. Then J starts to laugh like a fucking hyena, so in other words like himself.

"Nigga, you ain't tryna get us to believe that shit is you? Her, a fuckin' wrestler. Fuck man, she look like she a three hunna pound or somethin or did ya confuse her with a mirror?"

"For the fuckin' record J, I'm four hunna pounds."

"So you an even bigger than we thought?"

That's enough to get both Bones and J to burst out in laughter, and even Kendall joins in on it before I smack her fucking leg under the table and raise a backhand to shut her up once I get her attention. I don't need her fuckin' getting up the courage to talk shit; I got enough to deal with from these two fuckwads. I clear my throat which gets them to shut up and start to focus up.

"Nigga you gotta answer the question before we get down to business. Why the fuck you bring her 'round? Couldn't ya like drop her off at a fuckin' NA meeting or something?"

"NA?"

Aw shit and now she's starting. Fuck you guys, you had to rile her up.

"Yeah, NA, you junkie bitch. Ya know what those two letters mean, don't ya?"

"Yes, I do. Do you?"

"Bitch don't get smart with me, I'll smack the shit out you."

"I'd like to see you try."

"All right, all right. You're all gonna fuckin' dead this shit right now before I knock you both fuckin' silly. I brought her here cuz I figured she oughtta know what she's getting into, hirin' me to help her ass out and shit. There Bones, you happy?"

"Reasonably."

He eases back into his seat, still shooting a death glare at Kendall. Fuckin' fine by me, not my job to make them like each other. Meanwhile, J shakes his head with a smile on his face, trying his best not to laugh, before Bones punches him in the shoulder and gets him to drop it.

"Well aight then, onto business."

"Fuckin' finally, we get this show on the road. I was startin' to think maybe you guys ain't had shit to talk about and just wanted to cop some of these fine Cubans."

"Nah man, J might try that shit but not me."

"Nigga, fuck you."

"This is business? Shit, this is fuckin' preschool from where I'm sitting."

"I was gettin' there man. Shit, business is goin' pretty well, hey what the fuck you want me to say? How much shit we're moving, how much we're making approximately? The cops ain't got shit to go after us with, Jimmy ain't turned snitch. J's got one of his boys on the inside making sure of that."

"Nigga's already servin' life, what else he got to lose?"

"Right, there's one problem."

I crack my knuckles and lay my hands on the table.

"Oh? And what's that?"

"There's this mothafucka tryin' to worm his way into our turf. He hangs out on the corner of Hall and Humboldt. Real ornery mothafucka, wears a bright red hoodie like he's inviting niggas to take a swing at him. Says he's got friends up in New York who'd kill anyone who steps to him. Don't know why anyone believes that though."

"White guy, black guy? Big, little?"

"Darker and smaller than you, nig."

"So, you want me to take care of him, right? Break his legs or go all the way?"

"All the way nigga. I doubt he's got friends but if he do, I don't want them getting up in our shit. We got too good a thing goin' on to let 'em turn it to shit."

"Yeah man, I got it. I'll head out there tonight and give him a special."

"Nah man, fuck! No special man, nothing tying us to it."

"What happened to him not havin' friends?"

"He might and I don't wanna deal with it. Just clip him, damn."

"Whatever man. That's all I need to know?"

"Yeah, 'less you want me to get the figures."

"Yeah, I'm fine there. Come on Kendall, let's get outta here."

We both push our chairs out and stand up, but we don't get too far before J speaks up.

"Wait, Kendall? Shit, she's Kara's girl?"

"Nah nigga, Kara ain't a fuckin' dyke."

"Coulda fooled me."

"Looks like it did nigga."

While those two had their little discussion, I walked Kendall out of the room. I hoped that she wouldn't catch it, but she did. Guess I should've expected that.

"How do they know Kara?"

"Long story."

And that it fuckin' was. Though it really wasn't something I needed to get into right now.


Here we go. Midnight. The sun's long since set and the only light on the street comes from the streetlights hanging overhead and even those are faulty and prone to flickering on and off. I keep the brights off and pull J's old, busted ass sedan up to the curb, keeping the keys in the ignition and the engine running.

"This car smells like ass."

And then there's Kendall Sawyer in the front seat, a bottle of vodka resting between her thighs.

"Fuck off with that shit. Now, you know what you gotta do, right?"

"Slide into the driver's seat once you get out, keep the car running, then dart out the second you hop back in? Yeah, easy enough. I've only had about a fifth so it's not like I'm too fucked up to drive."

"Only a fifth? What the fuck?"

"Don't worry about it, partner. Just do whatever it is you're gonna do."

"Riiiight."

I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the car. As I push the door shut, I see Kendall, bottle in hand, settling into the driver's seat. Yeah, I'm gonna have to get the bottle away from her so we don't get pulled over. Fuckin' drunk bitch. I shake my head and make my way around the front of the car and onto the sidewalk, where I walk in complete silence, before reaching the corner of Hall and Humboldt. An empty vial rolls down the sidewalk in front of me, before getting caught in one of the cracks. As I step over that crack, I angle the front of my foot so that I crush it under my feet as I pass over it. The crushing of glass puts me at ease. That's when I see him.

Bones wasn't kidding when he said he was inviting motherfuckers to step to him. Dude was wearing a bright fucking red jacket, like he just stepped out of a Revolutionary War reenactment on the British side. However, he was less flamboyant about what he was or wasn't carrying. I figure he figures his "friends" can bail him out of any situation and doesn't bother to carry a gun but anyone inviting that kind of attention wouldn't just leave themselves open like that. He's gotta have something. Better not push my luck then. I grip the handle of my Glock and slide it from the back of my waistband to the side. And for good measure, I keep my hand hovering over it, like a cowboy in a draw.

I approach Redshirt with all the casualness in the world. If you weren't in the know, there's no way you'd expect what was about to come next. As I walk up, he says some shit that I don't quite catch and offers a baggie to me with his other hand open to receive payment. Instead, I pull out my piece and unload a round into his stomach. He grabs his gut and slowly drops to his knees, but not before I put three more rounds into his chest and he lays there, dead on the corner. Before I look to see if anyone's around I run down the sidewalk from whence I came and slide into the passenger's seat. I snatch the bottle from Kendall and toss it out my door before closing it, which elicits quite the reaction from her.

"What the fuck?"

"Fucking go, bitch!"

And so she does. She speeds off into the night. My bet? We'll be long gone before anyone even calls the police and even then; no one saw anything. I'm sure that much is assured.