We live in a world where it's every man for himself...or should I say every thug for himself. The streets is it's own world. When you out in the streets the real world is left behind as you step into a realm of corruption, thieving, killing, drugs and no hope. Once you in, you in or you dead...lot of people learn that the hard way. When I was 8 I thought being a thug would be cool. The money, the power, the hoes, I wanted it all. But I didn't know the cost to have it. Now I was in it...and there was no escaping it.

"Yo, Esco! Sage got a job for you!" Being in a gang is more than just selling dope, shooting people and stealing money. There's a cycle and everyone has a place in that cycle. Mine was to off anyone and everyone who got on Sage's bad side...kind of like an assassin.

"Aight tell him I'll be dere in'a minute." $184, $189, $200, $210...that sums up my pay from the last job. Quickly stashing my cash in a hidden drawer under my desk I threw on my leather jacket, chain and headed downstairs. Yea, I know what you thinking, but a nigga gotta stay organized too ya'know?. Our "headquarters" was a 2 story building that was actually a bank down below. You were expecting, what? An abandoned building? Well that's exactly where all them other bitch ass niggas who dare call themselves a thug would be expecting us to be. Plus a lil extra dough for all of us wouldn't hurt.

"Alright, who is it now? D-Ray? Gemini? Slade?" I asked popping some Extra in my mouth and plopping down on the $2,000 brown leather couch.

"None of the above. D-Mac." Sage was a guy who was definitely not one to be messed with. He was one of the most notorious thugs in all of Woodcrest, not many would even think to cross him which made my job that much easier. He was black like me and pretty much every other thug, don't get me wrong we got a few whites and latinos but not many, bout 6'7, black hair always fresh and trimmed, suit & tie kind of guy, and there was just this aurora around him that said 'Don't fuck with me'. He kind of reminded me of Huey...not the attitude but the facial expressions. He was always all business.

"That gay ass nigga tryna steal from you, again?" It was nothing new really. D-Mac was of course the leader of one of the most powerful and dangerous rival gangs; over west. He was constantly tryna steal the throne from Sage, but never got close.

"And he succeeded. Stole over half a million from me last week and I'm not happy about that."

"Who was on watch?" I questioned now suddenly very interested. People rarely succeeded in stealing from us and when they did it was huge. And half a million? That's chump change to Sage, but money is money.

"Doesn't matter now they won't be on watch again." Dead.

"So...what? You want me to take him out?"

"No, not him...I want the Jewel." He can't be serious.

"You want me to kill the Jewel? The Jewel?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The Jewel was by far at the top of every single one of D-Mac's rivals wanted list. Whether it was the kill list or the fuck list every thug in Woodcrest wanted her. Yes, her. The Jewel is D-Mac's most prized possession, she's not just a hoe or some bitch. They called her the Jewel because she was said to look like a goddess and was strictly off limits.

"Well, he took something from me and now I want to take something from him. Then maybe next time he'll think twice about stealing from me." Without another word he got up and walked out of the room. Usually I would just accept the job without complaining, but this was a suicide mission. Any dumbass would know that he keeps her heavily guarded, especially when he's not around. He barely ever let's her out of his sight and when he does oh you can bet that it'll be hell getting to her.

Sighing I got up and sulked back to my office. The floorboards creaking as my size 15 custom Jordan's slowly descended onto the floor step, after step. I decided to head out for a little bit before checking out her file on my desk back up in the office. Hopping in my new, well earned, Rolls Royce I turned blasted the radio and drove off heading for the one place I used to call home. Everything still looked the same..., but the big fancy houses didn't seem so big and fancy, the shiny cars didn't seem so expensive, however the white residents were still as they've always been; stuck up and racist. As I made my way down Timid Deer Lane I couldn't help but have old memories flash in my head. Me and Cindy hooping down at the court, all four of us walking down the street late at night just hanging, painting the neighbor's houses...it was all just a dream now. Stopping in front of the house I paused for a second. What if he hates me? What if he's forgotten all about me? What if he's better off without a brother? Shaking the thoughts out of my head I got out of the car and decided to simply stop being a bitch. Taking a deep breath I knocked on the door and waited...

"Coming!" Well I'll be damn. The door opened to reveal the mulatto girl from across the street. She still looked the same...only older...and sexier. Her two big puffballs for hair were gone, now replaced by a high ponytail. It was still as curly as before but just a little straighter. Surprised Huey even let her do that. Puberty did her justice...her hips and ass had grown out quite a bit, guess that's from the black side, her boobs weren't big but they weren't small either, she had to be at least a C and quite perky.

"Riley? Is that really you?" Before I could respond she launched herself at me in a bone-crushing hug. Damn, who knew the girl was so strong.

"Jaz, who's at the-" I looked over her shoulder to see none other than my big brother; the one and only Huey Freeman. He hasn't changed much either. Still had that same oversized 70's afro, still wore the same gay clothes and still had that same scowl on his face. Only difference was the little girl in his arms. Wow, I really missed a lot.

"Jazmine, can you take Trinity upstairs and put her to bed, please?" He asked, well sounded more like an order, never taking his eyes off me.

"Sure, honey!" As she grabbed the little girl from his arms we never once took our eyes off of each other. It wasn't hatred or annoyance like when we were kids, but...something else.

"Wassup...can't you at least show a nigga some love?" I teased trying to lighten the tension. Without so much of a response he stalked toward me and I expected a punch or karate kick or something but what I did not expect was for him to wrap his arms around me in a bro hug. I was shocked for a second but returned the gesture.

"Good to see you, Riley." His voice didn't hold the usual cold, sarcastic tone I remembered but it was more light and...caring. Figured Jazmine would turn him into even more of a bitch.

"You too. So...Trinity?" We moved the little reunion over to the living room.

"Yea...she turned 3 yesterday. There's a lot I need to fill you in on...and you owe me an explanation as well."