Loud. Sharp. Then the whole world exploded with pain. My right shoulder was sagging, bringing the rest of me down with it. It was turning colors. Bright, bright red. This couldn't be good.

I crashed against the table behind me, into the drug money piled high. For all the things money can do, it didn't do shit to catch me or to stop the deafening hum in my ears. My body folded into the concrete, right shoulder first, of fucking course. Pain, so raw and real, darkened the room in ...