Chapter 5
P's Impatience
P, fueled by aggression and a desire for recognition, grows frustrated with Capone's measured response. His impulsiveness leads him to take matters into his own hands, creating a dangerous opening for their enemies.
The city breathed a heavy, humid sigh, the kind that settled into your bones and clung like the exhaust fumes from a passing bus. P felt it in his chest, a tightness that had nothing to do with the summer heat. It was the gnawing impatience, the itch under his skin that Capone’s careful, calculated moves just couldn’t scratch. He sat in the back of a souped-up Charger, the leather cool against his sweat-slicked skin, watching the world blur outside the tinted windows. Terry was in the passenger seat, a silent sentinel, his eyes scanning the street with that unnerving calm that always irked P.
“Another night, another stakeout,” P grumbled, running a hand over his shaved head. “Capone’s playin’ chess, man. What we doin’ here? Watchin’ paint dry?”
Terry didn’t flinch. His gaze remained fixed, his jaw set. “Capone’s got a plan, P. You know this.”
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