r lying on the floor of my basement. It had taken me a decade to find my mother's killer. Th

ieces of light inside of me extinguished. It was all darkness, pit

rgei had

ve in the shadows. We are not

was a ridiculous feeling for a monumental moment like this. Perhaps it was because this hitman was just the first domino to fall; merely the beginning of the chain. I didn't have the clout

'd feel something, have peace, and find a spark of light in the darkness shrouding

auntered in, bringing with him the s

"Good, you're finished

s the house is on fire,

ap, which led down one of two roads; rage or a thirst for violence. Ever since his girl had lef

ouse," Vla

I don'

those ominous word

they could cut in on our gun trade

ll of burnt flesh hit my nose. It couldn't be one of our soldiers; Vladimir wouldn't have been th

the one thing that brought me

izzling remains of my dog. They gave me

in is for the weak. Only the weak give

ng me while he spoke those words. He'd been beating the shit out of me for going against one

lver collar a few feet away. They had taken it off so

he soldiers left to return to thei

me flipping out over a mutt. I was the one who decided to feel rage,

inst the wall, lurking there like a gargoyle. "Som

my dog again. They'd set him on fire.

s know ab

ld them yet what the Jamaicans did.

an legends. But the stories all had one thing in common: they spoke to the twins' love for animals. Either of them wo

losely. "What do y

een burned to a crisp? Apparently, I w

me a s

hole lot of AK-47s. L

had to show them I was cool, collected, and in control. But the morning after they le