"Who are you, coming up in my face like that?" the man said. "I'm Get It Right." He slapped Brice across the face. "Go over there and talk to one of my soldiers."
Brice rubbed off the sting of the slap. "I want to talk to you. Answer my question."
"It's a party," said the teenage guy coming over to the two men. "We don't want trouble."
"It's late," Brice said. "It's important I meet with Nicholson tonight."
The kid gestured with two of his fingers for him to come. Brice caught up to him. His stomach knotted at the kid covered in gold chains and a red velvet tracksuit with eight other kids dressed identical to him. They adorned themselves among the back drop of boarded houses and debris from houses demolished. Drug dealers were treated like kings and princes.
"Nicholson believes he can protect the boys on this block from being recruit by Get It Right glorious organization," the dealer's soldier paused. Then he laughed, leading Brice to a house where the occupant held a rifle.
"Take your mess on. If the cops don't run you off, I will."
Brice held his eardrums, blocking Get It Right clacking. Then the kid slapped his back. "Let us stop before we are shot."
Get It Right snatched a gun from his back hidden under his shirt. He shot three holes into the neighbor's front window. Brice dove to the ground while the drug dealer continued firing until all the front windows were shattered.
One Death At A Time novel blog: http://wwsone.weebly.com/
One Death At A Time novel Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/One-Death-At-A-Time/757986894232119