Kick, or Turner if you wanted to be a dead man or if you were Theodora, sat atop of rooftop not too far from the Diner and only a fair walk away from 66. He sat on the edge, smoking a cigarette and waiting to see why Zeke was taking a long-ass time picking up Antonia. He took a drag and exhaled, looking up to the sky. And of course it was clear because this is Chicago with sunny streets and pitch-black alleys with motherfuckers who would stab you for a nickel. It's the life Kick chose, and he fully well knew that. When he saw Zeke and Toni get in the Cadillac, Kick stood up and grabbed his trusty crowbar. He still kept a pistol stuck behind his jeans, but he preferred fighting macho eh macho. After dropping his cigarette of the edge, he made his way to 66 and he shot a text to the big boss herself. 

[i]Z & A on their way. Making my way up now.[/i]

Using the first initial of everyone's names in texts was a habit that would die hard, but he preferred it in case someone tried to snoop on his phone. When he finally made it to Block 66, he knocked on the door politely. "Boss. It's me." He said, loud enough to be heard.