somethin' like that.'

'What kind of car she drive?' said Green.

'I don't know the woman personal. What difference does that make, anyway?'

'Bet it's an Avalon or somethin' like it. Bet she went with a spoiler on it too. Chinese do love their Japanese cars.'

'Point is, you keep working hard, despite adversity, you gonna come out all right. Not just you, but the people around you as well.'

'I know what you trying to say,' said DeEric Green, pursing his lips, nodding his head rapidly.

'You do?' said Nigel.

Lawrence Graham, Nigel's enforcer, chuckled low.

'Sure,' said Green. 'You talkin' about, like, that Boy Scout thing. Be prepared to fuck a motherfucker up. If Chang had been strapped his own self, that shit never would have ended up how it did.'

'It ended all right,' said Nigel. 'Ended real good for the kids.'

'But the Chinaman musta carried that scar forever. Might as well had a sign on him said 'I got my ass punked.' How you gonna face your people after, when you got that shit tattooed right on your grille?'

Nigel Johnson, seated at his desk behind the customer counter, tented his hands and felt himself tighten beneath his Sean John sweats. Green, one of his seconds, was just dim like that. He never could see past the obvious.

'Story wasn't about the robbery,' said Nigel. 'Story was about how the man hung in, kept on doing his j-o-b. Passed on the legacy of hard work to the ones around him.'

'I feel you,' said Green. 'I'm sayin', though, for me? I'll just go ahead and murder a motherfucker, he finds the need to put a gun in my face.'

Nigel breathed out slow. He looked past Green, slouched with his elbow on the counter, his Raiders cap cocked on his head, wearing his look-at-me hookup of a thick platinum chain worn out over a bright FUBU shirt, to Michael Butler, standing by the window fronting the shop. Butler just nodded at Nigel, talked with those smart brown eyes of his, telling him he understood, that there wasn't any need to make further comment.

The boy was mature for his age. At seventeen, he had more sense than DeEric Green and most of these other knuckleheads on the payroll. Respectful, hardworking, and he thought before he spoke. Focused. Butler reminded Nigel of his own self when he was coming up, though Butler was nowhere near as tough. He had a little Lorenzo in him too, with the way he stayed quiet unless something needed to be said. Butler was good.

'Nigel?' said Green.

'What.'

'I had a little thing I had to take care of this morning.'

'Talk about it.'

'Saw this boy they call Jujubee, one of Deacon's kids, toutin' his shit on our real estate. Had to pull over and show him what I had in my waistband, you understand what I'm sayin'? Him and his boys, they walked off slow. I don't see no problem, like reoccurin' and shit, but I thought you might want to know.'

'Where was he standin'?' said Nigel. 'Exactly.'

Green described the exact corner on Morton. When he was done, he smiled proudly.

'Well, then,' said Nigel, 'you fucked up.'

'Huh?'

'That ain't our corner.'

'Huh?'

'I'm sayin', that's Deacon Taylor's corner.'

'It's close to ours.'

'But it ain't ours, DeEric. It's Deacon's. I got an arrangement with the man.'

Green lowered his eyes.

'Look,' said Nigel. 'I appreciate you takin' some initiative, but you need to get me on the Nextel, or Lawrence here, if you not sure what's ours and what ain't. You gonna start a war out here, and that is something I don't need.'

'Right.'

'Yeah, okay. Right.' Nigel was tired of talking to Green, tired of trying to impress things upon him that he would never understand. Boy had the chrome, the outfits, the chains, the Escalade with the spinners… all the things. But there wasn't no reasoning behind it, no plan. Boy wasn't going to last.

'Anyway,' said Green, 'bout time I went and picked up the count.'

'Take Michael with you, hear?'

'Nigel,' said Green, protest in his tone.

It's Nigel, thought Johnson, not correcting Green, seeing no advantage in correcting him. Man had been working for him for two years now and he still couldn't get the name right. Said he had a problem with it 'cause his cousin, boy name of Nigel Lewis, pronounced it 'the English way.'

'Take Michael,' said Nigel, repeating the order. 'Boy needs to learn.'

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