Tuck held his phone up to his ear with a shaky hand. He dialed 9-1-1 to report finding Broady’s body. Junior pressed forward toward his parked car, preoccupied with thoughts of how he would give his mother the news. He didn’t think it mattered that she didn’t care for her youngest son, but he knew witnessing his mother’s pain was going to kill him inside. Her guilt over the way she’d treated Broady over the years would probably hurt her more than the knowledge of his death. Tuck grabbed the door handle of Junior’s Benz and began to pull the door open. Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering cut through the air, and Junior’s windshield glass rained into the car’s interior. Tuck sucked in his breath and snatched his hand back like he had touched fire. “What the fuck!” Just then a bullet whizzed past his face. Instinctively, he dropped to the ground, taking cover behind the passenger side of the car. More bullets flew. This time one of the headlights popped. “Oh shit!
