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Trey went around the back of the house and down to the sidewalk.

He had Tuell and Pete with him now. Ashton and that other guy he couldn’t stand and never remembered the name of were around the back with the delivery truck. They were going to load it up fast and get the hell out of Hughes Heights. Those two worked fast when money was involved. Such hard workers—they were so going places someday.

Trey was going to leave the last stash they had over on Alexander Blvd. It wasn’t big enough to worry about. And that stupid cop MacNamara lived up the street there. He was always watching everybody on that street. Getting in the way.

Someone should take him out. It would make life so much easier. Just pop, pop, while the dude was right there next to that hot-ass wife of his.

But MacNamara was someone else’s problem now.

Trey had made the decision. He was getting the hell out of Finley Creek. And staying out. He was going to take his dad with him. And the little bitch-brat. Couldn’t just leave precious Leena behind or nothing.

His phone rang. His dad. Wanting to know where he was. Trey gave him some bullshit about visiting a friend by the park. His dad actually thought Trey was trying to do things right or something.

Sometimes his dad was so fucking naive it was pathetic.

He had just disconnected the phone when he saw them.

The streetlight was just enough to show just who was coming right at him.

Trey slipped behind the garage and sent a group text.

They had trouble coming. Erickson.

About to walk right up to the sidewalk where the guys were loading. If Erickson found them, they were beyond screwed.

He looked at Pete and Tuell. They had to do something. Fast. Trey texted Ashton and his asshole friend.

They were going to do what they had to do.

Not like they hadn’t done it before.