“I don’t snatch chains anymore,” Jah said easily as he sipped his Jack. He cut his eyes to the door as two young women came in, escorted by a dude wearing rhinestone-studded sunglasses.

“So it seems.” Dollar sneered. “Say, do you remember when we used to run you up outta the game room? Shit, you were always trying to hang around the big boys and pop your li’l cherry. I used to give you dollars for going to the store for me,” he said loud enough for the new trio to hear. Booby slapped the bar laughing, only making the situation worse.

“Times have changed,” Jah said with a chill in his voice. “I don’t go to the store for dollars.”

“I can respect it with you being all grown up.” Dollar downed his drink. Fishing around in his pocket, he pulled out a five-dollar bill. “So why don’t you take this and go get me a pack of cigarettes!” Dollar roared as if he had made the funniest joke of the century.

By the time Dollar had turned to tell Jah he was just joking, a glass was being broken against his face. Jah followed with a left hook, staggering Dollar. The older man tried to right himself, but the knee Jah slammed into his gut doubled him over. With the wind knocked out of him, Dollar crumpled to the ground. Booby slid off the bar, but Jah already had the drop on him with his .40.

“Booby, that’s my word, if you try me I’m gonna paint that fucking jukebox behind you,” Jah warned him. Booby thought about it and sat back down. “Look at me,” Jah said, lifting Dollar by the front of his shirt. “I know you’ve been away for a while, so maybe you haven’t gotten the wire. I’m a beast on these fucking streets, son. The next time you come at me like that, you better be ready to murder something, faggot!”

Everyone in the bar was silent, waiting to see what Dollar’s fate was to be. Jah dropped him back to the ground and looked around cautiously. “What happened?” Jah asked Jackson, pointing the .40 in his direction.

Jackson raised his hands in surrender. “Shit, not a damn thing, blood!”

Jah backed out of the bar, keeping his pistol down, but ready. He kept looking from the front door to the people assembled in the bar, ready to pop off at the first sign of trouble. Booby was shooting him a murderous look, but he knew better than to challenge Jah. Dollar had been getting him high all day, but they weren’t cool enough for him to go against a hammer.