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little friend Marty, be my guest, but don’t bring my kid down with you.”
    Mr. Thompson’s remark cut Persia deep. It had never been a secret that he didn’t care for Marty, but to speak ill of the dead was uncalled for. “See, I was trying to keep from disrespecting you, Mr. Thompson, but your ass is out of line. It’s easy to point the finger at Sarah, and even me, and talk about how much we’re fucking up, but what about the part you play in it as an absentee parent?”
    â€œThat’s ludicrous! I’ve been in Sarah’s life since the day she was born,” Mr. Thompson said proudly.
    â€œPaying the bills and throwing money at her to keep her out of your hair doesn’t qualify as ‘being there.’ Half the time you don’t even know where Sarah is because you’re either too busy working or entertaining your private clients,” Persia spat. A look of shock came across Mr. Thompson’s face. “Don’t look so surprised, Herman. Just like you know my dirt, I know yours. Don’t sling mud if you aren’t prepared to have it slung back at you.”
    Mr. Thompson was so embarrassed that his face turned beet red. “If you were my kid, I’d knock you in the mouth for what you just said.”
    â€œWell I ain’t your kid and if you even think about raising your hand to me, what’s going on with your kid in school will be the least of your concerns,” Persia said in a matter-of-fact tone.
    Mr. Thompson stood there, glaring at Persia as if he was trying to decide whether he wanted to test her. He was angry, but he was no fool either. For as much as he wanted to slap the taste out of the teenage girl’s mouth, he knew there would be repercussions. Mr. Thompson had enough to deal with already and didn’t need the kind of problems that would come with getting into it with Persia.
    â€œMr. Thompson!” Father Michael called from the doorway of his office. He was leaning against the doorframe, thick arms folded across his barrel-like chest. He had seen and heard enough.
    Mr. Thompson gave Persia one last look before addressing his kid. “Let’s go, Sarah.”
    Sarah snapped to attention like she had just been struck by lightning. The whole time her father and Persia exchanged words, Sarah stood in the corner, too afraid to move or speak. She knew her father had a bad temper and didn’t want her friend getting hurt trying to defend her. Sheepishly she followed her father to the door. Before she left she looked over her shoulder at Persia and mouthed that she would call her later.
    Persia took slow deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She had known Mr. Thompson since she was little, and he had always been kind to her so she felt bad for disrespecting him, but she felt like he forced her hand. When the time was right, she would reach out to apologize, but it wouldn’t be any time in the near future.

CHAPTER 4
    â€œSee, that’s the problem with you cats. You spend all your time living for the now and don’t give much thought to the future. I’m all for enjoying life, but I wanna enjoy it for more than a day. I wanna enjoy it for all my days,” Tut was saying to the young men gathered around him. There were about four or five of the young cats and all their eyes were locked on him, hanging on every word that he said. Tut was young, but he had the charisma about him of an old head, which is what put him on Ramses’s radar.
    Tut was a kid from the rough side of the Bronx, trying to make the best out of a bad situation like everyone else. Unlike the other kids he hung around with on street corners, Tut was from a two-parent household where both mother and father worked and neither of them did drugs. They weren’t rich, but they weren’t poor either, so Tut getting caught up in the streets was by choice and not circumstances. He watched his parents bust their asses day in and day