“Shaved head, and a scar that ran from the corner of his mouth to his ear. He gestured for Burke to raise his arms. Burke shook his head. “I don’t think so, brother.” “You want to go in or not?” Burke looked past him to the door. It was steel, painted brown to look like wood. The kind of door that would hold up to a Stinger ram just long enough for someone on the other side to flush dope or slam a safe shut, spin the dial. “Are we going to have an issue here?” Burke said. “Because I’m not in the... mood.” The door opened, and Damien leaned out into the hall. “Yo, Luther, what’s the holdup?” “I’m trying to check the man, but he acting all hard.” “Man, forget that shit,” Damien said. He opened the door wider. He wore a white silk jacket over a salmon-colored shirt. Burke could see the butt of a chromed automatic in his waistband. Luther held Burke’s eyes for a moment, then stepped aside. Burke went past him and through the door. Damien shut it behind them.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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