"What's his name?"
"Brown Bryant."
"What's your relationship with him?"
"I went to the same high school as that bastard,"
"Luther King High School No. 3?"
"Yeah, just from the name, you know it's a black school. I can't understand why that white guy would come to my school, damn white trash."
"Do you have a conflict with Brown Bryant?"
"Yes, every time I saw that white guy, I felt there was something wrong with the way he looked at me. Once I just couldn't hold back and beat him up.
The kid was tough; he neither screamed in pain nor pleaded for mercy.
But that look in his eyes... I'll never forget it.
After that, I didn't have any more conflicts with him. I didn't expect this bastard to hold a grudge. He's dead meat, and it won't be pretty." Darcy Jordan gritted his teeth with hatred. If it weren't for Brown Bryant framing him, the police wouldn't have gone to his house to arrest him, and he wouldn't have been caught for hiding drugs.
