The sun beat down on my back and sweat beaded along my neck, only to dissipate whenever a forceful blast of wind rushed through the alley. I strolled along with Holiday and Damen flanking me. We kept our head on the swivel to avoid getting jumped as we made our way through unfamiliar territory. My right hand clasped my pistol hard, the metal leaving imprints in my skin.

We were crossing a section of the Northside's massive territory. They were the largest gang in the city, feared by all. They had strong ties to the Mexican cartel and Cayden had made an alliance with them in an effort to gain power. They usually kept to themselves, but we had to be alert. We didn't want any surprises.

Eventually, we arrived at the Southside's trap house.

It was the heart of all the gang's activities. From the old worn down apartment, Cayden executed James' plans to a T. I climbed the ancient rusty stairs of the fire escape that led up to the apartment, with Damen and Holiday close behind.

We headed down the narrow walkway to the familiar white wooden door. When I opened the door, the stout smell of marijuana greeted me.

My eyes roamed around the living room, where the older members of the gang, the lieutenants, liked to chill. Some of the members were playing cards at a small fold-out table in the kitchen with bottles of liquor by their feet. A couple others sat around the coffee table, taking turns hitting lines of pure white cocaine. The remaining members were spread out on the couch, watching a basketball game on the small box T.V. to my right.

Holiday dropped onto the sofa next to Mason, a baby gangster or BG who had been initiated with me, while Damen made his way over to the guys dealing cards.

Eddie, a large black guy with an afro and tattoos of crosses covering his face, smiled at me from his spot at the table and motioned me over. I made my way to him, stepping over a guy passed out on the floor.

"Spencer. What's up, youngblood?" he asked with a big smile on his face.

Eddie placed a large blunt behind his ear, his eyelids drooping low over his bloodshot eyes. He leaned back in the chair with his arm thrown over the back of it. The light reflected off the silver watch on his wrist.

"Aye, Eddie. Not much. I came here to speak with Cayden. Holiday and Damen said it was something important."

"He's been gone about, eh,"—he glanced down at his watch and then looked back up at me—"an hour now. He should be back soon with the boss."

The word "boss" sent a shot of ice through my veins and my muscles locked.

James had been busted for the murder of a local bar owner. I hadn't been present at the scene, but I heard from other members that the owner had refused to serve a drink to James. Without a second thought, James put a blade through the man's heart. He left the bar with cash in his pockets, a bottle of liquor in his possession, and blood on his hands.

"You mean, 'head honcho,' boss?" I questioned as I watched him spark the end of another blunt.

"Yeah, youngblood. James is coming home. He will love to see his newest YG." Eddie inhaled a deep hit of smoke.

I had been waiting for the day when I would get to meet James. He was my only way of reaching OG status. As an original gangster, you were able to be more laid back; you didn't have to grind so hard. You still touched the money, but you didn't have to get your hands dirty. The runners took that risk for you.

I glanced around the room and then looked back at Eddie, who exhaled the smoke. It hung in the still air between us.

"Bet. This YG can't wait to meet him, bro," I said, smiling at him as I rubbed my hands together.

Eddie laughed and leaned the chair back against the wall. "Hm. You got a lot of promise, Spence," he said, holding out the blunt to me.

It would be disrespectful to turn down a lieutenant's offer even though I didn't mess with the drugs I sold anymore. I took it from him, putting it to my lips and inhaling the thick, sweet smoke. I held it in my lungs for a moment, but it tickled the back of my throat, causing a coughing fit to erupt from my chest. I handed the blunt back to him and he grinned at me.

"Atta boy," he laughed, hitting it again.

I grabbed his free hand and our fingers curled into the familiar S-shape position, signifying our gang's handshake. Then I headed over to the couch, where Holiday was perched on the arm.

"I see you making friends with the big dawgs," he mumbled, but his eyes never left the T.V. screen.

I braced my forearms against the back of the couch and leaned in beside him.

"I'm trying, man. Hey, Eddie just gave me a heads up. James is coming home," I whispered, turning my head so that he was the only one who could hear me.

"For real?" He finally took his eyes off the screen to look at me.

"Yeah, bro. Cayden went to pick him up from the pen," I said.

Holiday sat up straighter and let out a low whistle. "Shit. James is the real deal, Spence. He can make or break you. If you don't live up to his expectations, he'll ax you."

I let out a deep breath and hung my head. Holiday was making me nervous, but I knew he was telling the truth. James didn't play. He didn't cut deals. He expected you to do his bidding with no questions asked. I was determined to prove to him that I was cut out for this lifestyle. This was my only chance at a better life.

Suddenly, the door flung open. It slammed hard into the wall, causing a cracking sound where the door handle busted through the drywall, leaving a gaping hole. The muscles in my shoulders tensed and my head jerked in the direction of the noise. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to Cayden. His tall frame stood in the doorway, and his fists were clenched. His dark eyes scanned the room to assess who was present before he kicked the door shut behind him. He walked over to the coffee table, slammed a silver blade down into the wood and placed his hand on his chin as he stared at us.

"I've got some news to share," he barked.

Eddie spoke up from the back. "What's up, bro?"

"After we took care of the witness the court had against James, they had no evidence to convict him of murder. He was set to be released today," he explained through gritted teeth.

"Where is he at then?" asked Tick, looking up from his line of coke with wild eyes.

Cayden's jaw locked, and anger flickered across his dark eyes. "James was murdered."

My hands started to tremble. I had never met James, but he was our boss and our fellow brother. There was an unspoken bond formed once you vowed your life to the South, a brotherhood. The death of James affected us all.

A silence fell across the room for a moment before hushed whispers erupted all around.

"By who?" Matt growled.

Cayden's head snapped in his direction, and his eyes narrowed to slits. "Well, if I knew that, I wouldn't be here telling you now, would I?"

"I got word yesterday the Eastside was making moves, but I didn't know what kind of moves," Chris remarked.

Cayden's eyes searched through the crowd for the speaker, his long fingers wrapping around the hilt of his blade. He made eye contact with Eddie and Tick in the back of the room and tilted his head. They immediately grabbed Chris by the arms.

I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, clenching my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. My brothers couldn't see that I was weak, or my fate would be sealed, too.

"So, you're supposed to be our informant, huh? From the looks of what happened today, it seems like you're doing a shitty job," Cayden snarled.

Eddie and Tick shoved Chris to his knees in front of Cayden.

"Cayden, man," he pleaded. "I didn't know they had someone in the pen with the boss."

I glanced at Holiday. His own face twisted with a sense of sadness briefly, before a vacant look replaced it. I attempted to keep my face blank and control the worry I had for Chris. Calmness filled my body as I exhaled and I turned to look back at Cayden, who replaced the knife in his hand with a silver pistol with diamonds encrusting the butt. He slipped the bullets into the chamber.

"Still sounds like something you should have told me about, doesn't it, Chris?" he asked.

Chris hung his head. His chest rose and fell softly.

"Because of your lack of commitment, James is gone. You were the reason for his death," Cayden thundered.

"Yes, boss," he mumbled. "I'm sorry. I failed the gang."

Cayden flicked the last bullet into the chamber with a loud clicking noise. "It's too late to say sorry, my brother." He aimed the barrel of the gun at Chris' head.

My heart beat rapidly against my rib cage. I clasped my hands in front of me. The shot radiated through the room, sending a vibration across the floor. There was a thud as Chris' body slumped to the ground, and I cringed. It was not because of a life being taken - I saw that all the time - but because I had lost another brother.

"Clean it up," Cayden's voice ordered.

There was shuffling around the room and I glanced over to see Eddie working to slide the body across the floor while Tick grabbed a black garbage bag out of one of the drawers in the side table. Together, they slipped the body into the garbage bag. Eddie tied it up and tugged it out of the white door. There was only a pool of blood left in the place of the traitor.

Cayden knew he had to cement the fact that he ruled the gang now that James was gone. He cast his eyes to the side to avoid eye contact with us as he sucked in a deep breath. Chris was a brother, but he had failed to alert Cayden when death could come to one of our own. His loyalty to the south had wavered. There was an aching in the pit of my stomach and as uneasy as it made me feel, Chris' death was a necessity.

"The Eastside had somebody on the inside," Cayden said, shoving his gun down the front of his pants. "The warden told me that three guys incited a riot at four a.m. this morning. They jumped James with homemade knives. They killed him and injured two others before SWAT was able to move in and control the violence."

Tick stood beside him, pouring bleach onto the pool of blood on the floor. The clean, sterile smell made me uncomfortable.

"Damn. They decided to act the day he was supposed to be released," Matt said, shaking his head.

"What's our next step?" Holiday asked.

Cayden's piercing dark eyes landed on him before shifting to me. He flashed an empty smile, but it contorted into an evil grin. "We send them a message."

"Turf war?" I questioned.

"Exactly that, Spence. They tried to burn this hell hole down last month, and now they've murdered our leader. I think it's time we make a move on them," he snarled, folding his arms across his chest.

Eddie returned to the apartment with a large smile, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "I heard the words turf war. Does this mean I get to kill tonight?"

"We move in on the Eastside tonight, and we leave no survivors." A malicious grin twisted back onto Cayden's face.

"A few dead brothers should be enough to get them to back down," Eddie insisted, cracking his knuckles.

Something had changed in Cayden. He was in the Southside's driver's seat now. He knew which direction he was headed.

His eyes danced back to mine.

"Spencer, my room. I have some matters to discuss with you." He flicked his wrist in the direction of the hallway.

Cayden disappeared around the corner. I stood to follow him, but Holiday grabbed my arm. "Be careful, bro," he muttered.

I rolled my eyes and shrugged him off. "A'ight."

I walked down the hallway where Cayden had disappeared and stopped next to the open door, leaning against the frame.

"What's up?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

Cayden sat on the edge of his bed. "Spencer, you're my newest YG, but I'm looking for a new OG to step up in my place. There's plenty of other guys, but I see potential in you."

Cayden grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the desk, pulling one out and lighting it before taking a drag. He closed his eyes as he blew out the smoke.

I straightened in the doorway. "That means a lot, Cayden. This gang gave me a family, and I'd die for my family."

"Yeah, youngblood, I know. I see a lot of myself in you." He exhaled another cloud of smoke. "You've got what it takes, but you'll have to earn it."

"I'm up for the grind."

He smirked at me. "I figured you would be. I've got a lot of shit to handle since James died, but I need you to collect and sell a load of Malcolm X from the supplier on the west side of town tomorrow," he said as he reached over to put the cigarette out on the side table by his bed. "There's a festival going on and those young kids love to party. It should be easy for you to drop the load."

I nodded my head. "Hella easy. I'm down."

He nodded as he rose and walked over to where I stood. His tall frame levelled his face with mine and he held his hand out to me. I shook it and Cayden took the opportunity to slip me a wad of bills.

"Get it done, Spence. I'm putting my trust in you. You haven't let me down yet," he said, hitting my shoulder.

"Will do, boss." I smiled.

"Now get the fuck out of my room," Cayden ordered and I backed out, pulling the door shut behind me.

As I rounded the corner back into the living room, I smacked into Rodney. His muscular frame was as firm as a statue.

"Watch where the fuck you're going kid," he snarled at me.

Dammit, I hated when he called me kid. Rodney was also a YG, though he had been in the gang for much longer. He had hated me from the beginning. Rodney thought I didn't belong, but Cayden was quick to silence him. His gold grill shimmered in his mouth as he narrowed his eyes at me now.

"You ran into me, bro," I raved back as we stood toe-to-toe.

He was the one guy in the gang I couldn't stand. He was also the only other guy in the gang ambitious enough to attempt to claim the newly opened OG rank.

"Whatever, Spencer. Move. I have a meeting to get to," he said, pushing past me.

My eyes followed him as he headed down the hallway toward Cayden's room. I wasn't going to let Rodney take my rank in the gang. He could forget that all together.

I clenched my fists. My blood boiled. The anger inside me had to be subdued. I crossed the living room and pulled open the front door, stepping out into the cool alleyway. The wind whipped across my face. I let out a deep breath. Going to school would be a good way to relax and ease the tension that consumed my mind. If I had to skip a class or two in order to return early for the gang war, so be it. The gang was the most important thing in my life. I started down the rusty steps of the fire escape, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

Cayden had removed his mask, and now his inner demons were about to be released on the city. I didn't even want to imagine the chaos to come.