He trotted on the sidewalk on Schoolcraft Road then the grass where it was no sidewalks, sticking his thumb out. He got no respond for a ride. Deciding to change his tactic, he waved his hands above his head. A jet-black colored Firebird pulled near the curb.
"Need a ride," Constance said tapping on the horn. Distancing himself from the car, Constance flashed the emergency lights and met Brice at the back of the car.
"Unlock the trunk," he said.
She lifted the trunk. He stepped back setting himself to run, before realizing it was emptied. Good, no Goyo.
"Come on." Brice stared at the sporadic traffic. He rested his hands on his waist. Yanking the unlock car door, he stretched his neck peering behind the leather seats. His home had been miles away, he couldn't run all the way there.The woman had his back one moment then she was mothering the fool who couldn't leave his mother nipple.
"Starting the fire failed," Constance said, patting Brice's arm after he took the passenger seat. "The cops are involved. We should've handled this ourselves and moved on together."
Thinking only of herself, Brice thought. She didn't understand. Shawn and he were brothers. A good brother who existed by playing both sides. He forgave him for that.
They arrived on his street where a person was firing bullets at his house. The sickest kind of silence started. He didn't know what the shooter was up to during this time. Glass pieces dropped from the frame of his windows, he flung the car door open and roll from the car.
It couldn't be Hefty, Brice thought. He wants him to see the bullet coming. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and breathe, to slow his heartbeat. The fear gripped him like he was the teenage in school unprepared to attack Arcadio. Brice heard footsteps stampeding through the grass. He peeked through the bushes. PP broke the lock on his storm door to his house. Police siren sounded in the background.
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