“You tired?” Hunter asked, leaning closer to him, becoming intoxicated from his cologne. “I’m high,” he admitted, licking his lips. “Oh, so why are you here?” “So you could rest. You making niggas nervous circling the block. I had to tell Ms. Pat not to let the dogs loose on yo ass again.” “Op, she be doing that shit on purpose?” Hunter bucked her eyes. She knew exactly who he was talking about because every time she approached the block, the old woman was sitting on the porch rubbing the top of the Pitbull's head. “Hell yea. You be in the hood wildin with them tickets.” “I’m doing my job.”
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