28 Puck hadn’t been in this neighborhood since the last time he bought a baggie from a corner dealer. Eight years had passed, but some things never change. He poked his head around the corner of the building he was hiding behind and watched a disheveled man stumble toward the dealer, handing him cash with his shaking hand. To think there was a time he thought that s**t was cool. The door of the decrepit bar across the street swung open, and Jiggins sauntered out. Didn’t even look up from his cell phone to check his surroundings. Dumb f**k. Puck tucked his freezing hands into his pocket and followed Jiggins a few blocks, stopping and hiding each time Jiggins paused to chat with the various dealers and runners. He was obviously doing his rounds. So damn confident he was in his ’hood that h