one another.

"Star, Patrick is a pussy!" blurted out Lucky. "All he wants is for the soldiers to be around him to make him seem more powerful in everyone else's eyes."

"Lucky, Patrick is my Don," voiced Desmond. "Y'all are going to have to work things out."

"I hear you, my Don. But you'll soon see what I'm talking about," said Lucky.

"5-O, 5-O!" shouted a local addict, running past the trio.

"Come on, y'all!" yelled Lucky, leading the boys inside a nearby building.

Confused, Roger and Desmond trailed Lucky.

Inside the building, Lucky fumbled through a large stack of keys before making way upstairs to a second-floor apartment.

"Come in," he said in a rushed manner, letting the perplexed boys in the pad.

Rushing to a window inside the apartment, he looked outside.

A few police officersstrength to speak to anyone. He ignored everyone.

His nephew's death was beyond heartfelt, so much he couldn't cope with the public. His eyes swelled from crying, regrets filled his mind. _Why did they have to kill him?_

__ He heard the shots the night of the incident, but had no idea it was his nephew being murdered. Shootings were a regular occurrence on Newkirk Avenue, so he paid no mind to the blasts the night. It was not until he was informed it was his kin killed that he ran outside, where he saw his nephew sprawled on the ground with multiple bullet wounds to his body.

The night, a close source disclosed the identity of the shooters, which only added to the pain he was enduring. His past transgressions