Troy lights up yet another cigarette from his leather coat pocket. You're starting to become worried about his health at this point because being in his late 20s, he shouldn't be smoking this much. But the stress was getting to him and the fact that there were so many traitors in a gang that he saw us a family was unacceptable to him.

With another drag of cigarette, he walks back to his car where he told you to wait, Not wanting to let you see the pool of blood and the dead bodies of traitors.

"Drive"

He said to the driver, and maybe it was the situation that happened today. He seemed tired and vulnerable, slowly, falling asleep on your shoulder as he sat on the backseat with you.