True Crime: Most Feared of the Infrequent Killers

"Our doors open and we step out into the chilled air; night has descended but we're well lit by the lamppost sentries standing guard. The duffle bag must be heavy around his shoulders, weighed down by the shotgun and the rifle and however many clips of ammo. As we walk beneath the turnpike overpass, I am Sizemore to Mike's De Niro: we are characters in that movie, we are storm bringers, awesome elementals about to conjure a metal rain. Passing Chopin Court, I can't help but think about Black; Chopin’s where he lived before Slim ruined everything. Now my thoughts turn to Freddie--suddenly I am overcome with hate and rage and sorrow at Slim for destroying Black's happiness, at Black for destroying mine. If I'd broken the cat's neck my dog would be home now, he'd be safe under the bed chewing laces--if I'd just done what I'd been paid to do no one else would've had to die.... So I guess it's my fault...I guess I'm to blame for this night of screams."

All good things come to an end, and all bizarre things too. In this final chapter of the three-part True Crime series, Vince breaks jaws and cracks skulls to get back what was taken from him: "The only thing that matters in the world," a golden haired Pomeranian that loved him when no one else would. With blood and bullets a housing project becomes hell on earth, its hallways battlefields as a neighborhood erupts, set ablaze by the flames of vengeance, by the fires of an uncompromising love.