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All of a sudden, the wounded white man felt the courage of a lion sweep over him. He opened his eyes and jumped to his feet. “Come on, you bastard!” He clinched his fists. “Come on! Right now!” Daniel’s heroic attempt was too late, for the shadow was gone with the moneybag. “Fuck!” the manager screamed. “Fuck!”
So ended the night . . .
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Roxanne had seen a lot of violence in her life and had been around a lot hardcore men. To her, Carleaf was hard and was a man prepared to do anything. She had seen him beat people, rob people, shoot people, and stab people. To her, a man couldn't have gotten harder, until now. For what she had just observed; what she just witnessed; and what she had just been subjected to—she realized that the man in front of her was not to be reckoned with. She thought she had seen it all, but now reality dawned on her. She had just found out that the man they call Yo-L was a cold-blooded killer.
Just when she felt that Carleaf and his partners could handle anybody—she was set up to vick a maniac! After this awakening, she had lost all confidence in them. She knew now that all the rumors she heard were true. Yo-L was a killer. He did not just kill. He actually enjoyed what he did. It seemed almost like he fed off it. By observation alone, she could tell it was not the first time that he had murdered someone, and it would not be the last. She had seen people get killed before, but just because a person took another's life didn't necessarily make them a killer or a murderer.
To kill is to take another's life. To murder is to take another life. But to be a murderer, you have to walk murder, talk murder, think murder, and every time you get that sensation you murder. To be a killer, you have to kill people for the high, you have to kill people for your principles, and you have to kill a person because if you don't kill him today, you’ll have to kill him tomorrow—Yo-L was a killer.
