I looked around and didn’t see Mylo anywhere. He was gone. “I’m not leaving you.” I said and held onto Freeze.

How could I have been so stupid?

Why didn’t I take Mylo’s gun right away?

It’s my fault that Freeze is dead. Even though they tell me that it’s not, I know better. Freeze is dead ’cause I got careless. And even though I avenged his death so Freeze could rest in peace, I haven’t found any peace for myself.

Freeze started workin’ for Black when he was sixteen years old. He was a kid, but Black saw something in him. That’s what we used to call him, The Kid. Back then, all Freeze did was run little errands for Black and hang out at the club messing with the ladies. That all changed one night after we robbed a warehouse and somebody robbed our load.

The next night when I got to The Late Night, Freeze was there talkin' to Black. They sat there for most of the night, and then Freeze jumped up and headed for the door. A couple of days later, Freeze had caught all of the guys that robbed us.

After that, Black made me work with Freeze. I had mad respect for the kid for catching them muthafuckas by himself. But he was just a kid; I didn’t wanna work with him. The way shit worked was, since Black doesn’t like to drive, whenever he had a little job to do, he would call me and say “come scoop me up.”

Only this time when I get there, Black is nowhere to be found and Freeze gets in the car. “Let’s go.”

“Go where? Where’s Black?”

“Black wants me to go with you.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t say why. He just said when Nick gets here that I should go with you.”

I put the car in drive and pulled off. “Where to?”

“Spot off Boston Road.”

“Who we goin’ to see?”

“You know Harry Walker, right?” Freeze asked as I drove.