with the image, wanting to become one. And Mike knows this…Trey is emotional blackmail. I felt both anger and pity for the naïve kid I’d babysat as he stood alongside my assailants.

“Betta speak the fuck up” Mike said in a calm, collected voice, tightening his grip on my forearm, “I ain’t ‘bout to get capped yet.”

“Th-those kids in the red Impala?” I asked, looking between Mike and the other kid.

“No,” Mike said, narrowing his eyes at me, “some outta town mothafuckas lookin’ for me. Who the fuck is they?”

The angry kid slapped me across the face with the back of his hand, “Don’t fuck with us you spic cunt,” he was talking even faster now.

“Guys…” Trey sa...

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