Chapter ElevenNicky sat before his “42 flat-screen watching Lassie as he took pulls from a Salem, burning the first half of his cigarette into ashes. Smoke wafted around him like he was at the center of an explosion. Smoking wasn’t exactly the best thing for the seventy eight year old mob figure being that he had failing lungs and a bum ass heart. Although he had no business indulging, old habits die hard and he saw himself lying in a coffin way before he saw himself quitting. The old nigga couldn’t help himself. It didn’t even bother him that he was damned to spend the rest of his days on an oxygen tank.
Hearing a knock at the door, Nicky put his cigarette out and hid it in a secret place. After clearing his throat with a fist to his mouth, he sprayed himself and the air with cheap colog
