Chapter Two
Tyson lay on the bottom bunk inside of his cell staring at the bars. His torso was wrapped in two inches of news paper and two prison made knives known as Bone Crusher’s were concealed inside the sleeves of his shirt. His eyelids were heavy, but he didn’t dare to blink them; some of Grief’s goons could rush into his house at anytime and give both him and his cousin a stabbing as brutal as the one Montoya Santana got in American Me. He couldn’t have that so he knew he had to stay on point in that b***h.
“Ty?” Cody called from the top bunk where he was wiping his dripping nose with the back of his hand, having just snorted the last of his secret stash of heroin. The way he blinked his moist eyes and coughed it seemed like he was coming down with the flu but that wasn’t further
