Slag Row.
Victor stood up, casually extended his hand. “Elias bro—hook me up with a smoke.”
“Who you calling bro? I’m old enough to be your dad!” Elias rolled his eyes.
“Street rules—you gotta call big brother for respect.” Victor grinned. “Don’t be stingy—give me one.”
Elias rolled his eyes again, pulled a pack of oven-cured cigarettes from his pocket. “When can you get Stephen and Alexander out?”
Victor snatched the whole pack shamelessly, grinning. “We’re on the same side now—think I won’t handle it?”
“Give me back my smokes.”
“No way—your channels run meds in and out, easy to get real tobacco… we barely see cured ones all year.” Victor pocketed the pack without shame. “Thanks, big brother.”
“Get lost.” Elias ignored him, turned to the more reliable Julian. “When can they get ou
