CHAPTER 18

Lucy

––––––––

“SHE DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING. Trust me,” I say, trying to convince Toño to leave Ruth alone. “I don’t know what the hell she was doing coming over here.” I sigh, still irritated by her nosiness. She has no idea how close she came to fucking up my plan to get away from all this. What if she’d seen the pile of guns kept just out of view by the arm of the sofa?

Toño gives me a warning look, but I can tell he carries around a budding flower of sympathy for me because of Angel. That ugly mark on my soul saved her in that moment. A price she’ll never know I paid to keep her safe.

“Listen up,” he says, silently pardoning me for her crime. “I want four groups. I want my strong fighters to be coming from two sides. You know who you are. The other two groups will be smaller. You’ll separate and go after specific targets. Those of you staying in the larger groups will be following my lead.”

I eye the door, knowing I’ll be paired with Angel who hasn’t shown up yet. Maybe they told him to stay away, or he might just be late. Regardless of the reason, I’m constantly on edge. Not knowing when I’ll be forced to face him again feels like holding a live grenade.

Everyone starts to leave, and not even Ro stops to see how I’m coping or whether or not I know what to do. I can feel her pulling away in the way she avoids my eyes and stands farther apart from me. It’s better for both of us, but I know I’ll never get her back after this. I watch her pack shanks into a knock-off Coach purse, her stiff curls shifting in a gelled clump as she turns her head. Beneath those stenciled lips and done-up eyes, she’s still my friend.

I catch her wrist as she passes me.

Our eyes connect, one final time, and I know it’s the last. I try to say everything in my heart with a single look. She holds my gaze with a flat expression, as if she’s determined to keep me out.

“Bye Ro.”

She lets go of the façade for a split second, her lips softening into a knowing smile, and walks through the door.

* * *

Everyone scatters. I end up walking to the park alone, which is terrifying, because I start thinking of Littles. The fight. Her face. I wonder about what happened to her when she woke up covered in blood. I’ve decided to tell myself she’s okay, that I’m not a murderer. But I might never know for sure. Either way, those girls will want revenge. My pulse quickens as I move faster.

I’m vulnerable all by myself, but the streets are quiet. Certain lights have either gone out or have been shattered intentionally, which creates large pools of darkness as I walk. Around every corner I scan the whole block before continuing.

The park is empty when I arrive, though I can see members of our group trickling in from the surrounding streets. The cops must know what’s coming because they’re crawling by every few minutes. I’m grateful for that, knowing I can run to them if I’m afraid for my life, but also terrified they’ll nail me for something serious.

After a while, the girls group up and the guys form a second cluster at separate sides of the park. Omar and Vee are in the center talking closely. Some of the girls stare at their men from afar. I tie my hair in a messy bun to get it out of my face and go to stand by Ro. She doesn’t acknowledge me, so I tuck my hands into the pocket of my blue hoodie and watch as Omar strategizes with Vee.

When they break apart, and Vee heads back our way, I start to rock on my feet and clench my fists. This is it. And I don’t even know what it is. I don’t really get time to think about it either, because someone yanks me by the elbow, wrenching my hand from the pocket of my sweater.

“Hey!” I say, thinking Ro is taking this cold-shoulder thing a little far.

“You’re with me,” Angel says.

I swing around and our eyes meet. His beautiful brown eyes, like dark endless wells, have been ruined for me. They take me to a place where I’m scared and fragile. I pull my arm from his grasp, and release a captive breath.

“I know you don’t want to,” he continues, trying a softer approach, “but it’s better this way. Please stay with me. I won’t hurt you. I want to protect you.”

I just nod and stare at the ground.

Vee looks at Angel. “Those of you with targets, you know who you are, separate yourselves now. The rest move out.”

The group breaks up, and I start following the person in front of me without thought.

“No, we go this way.” He grabs my arm again and pulls me in the other direction.

“You don’t have to drag me around!” After I snap I try to lighten my tone, realizing he could hurt or kill me in the chaos without anyone noticing. “I’ll come with you, just let me go, okay?”

“Okay. I won’t touch you, but you have to stay close and you have to watch. We’re going to split off from this group. We have our own mission.”

“Mission? What do you mean?”

“The target.” He says this like I haven’t been paying attention, and I guess I haven’t. I’ve been so wrapped up with facing him and getting this over with I never imagined I’d be one of those selected to take out a target. A person.

“The big groups are just a distraction. They’re going in to wreak havoc so we can get through unseen. I’ll take down the main target. You’re going to help me by getting his girl.”

“Wait...what do you mean?” I glare at the shadowed grass already knowing the answer. I wonder in my silence what he’ll do if I refuse. Because I don’t think I can do it. Besides, I don’t have a weapon.

He must see the way I falter at the thought. “If you freeze up then just knock her out, and I’ll finish it once I’ve taken care of my part. This is for you.” He hands me a gun.

I stare at it, mortified. It’s small and black. I have no idea what to do with it. I don’t even know what kind it is. My dad has shotguns, but I’ve never shot or even held one like this in my life.

“I don’t know how to use one of these!” I say in a high-pitched shaky voice, hoping to find a way out. I almost drop the thing, but think better of it. I’d probably end up shooting myself in the leg.

“The safety is on. It’s this button right here. Make sure you undo that before you shoot or nothing will happen. That’s all you need to know. We have to move.”

I hold it like some cursed evil relic, touching it as little as possible in the pocket of my sweater as we head for the edge of the park. We keep quiet and sneak around the sides of an apartment building. I stay close to him, walking at his heels, as we creep through alleyways keeping to the shadows. Beneath my sweater, I’m battling a cold sweat. Death—mine, his, our target’s, either way it’s only a few breaths away. I think about the people we’re after. I don’t know what they did. I worry for them, that they’ll waste the last moments of their lives. But those thoughts are just an undercurrent to the river of anxiety I’m wading through.

It’s strange to rely on the person who’s hurt me the most to keep me safe. Despite the feelings he stirs up in me, he’s the lesser of the dangers I’m facing tonight.

We reach a small white house with faded blue shutters and Angel starts to climb the chain link fence that encloses their backyard. I pause before I follow him. It feels like everyone’s watching me, even though the streets are dark and empty. Someone could still drive by and catch us at any moment.

I know there’s no going back, and I don’t really have a choice, so I climb. The jingling metal fence is too loud as I claw my way up and over the top, like it’s announcing our arrival. We should have cut it—Stupid.

Once we’re past the fence I notice the budding shrubs in a flowerbed that hugs the foundation of the home. It’s a nice place, maybe the people are nice, too. I can hear the TV. It’s on louder than it should be. Beneath its layer of sound I make out a pair of angry voices trading blows, but I can’t tell what they’re arguing about.

“I think we can get in the house without them realizing,” Angel says. “The bedroom window is open. They won’t hear us coming in.”

Sirens wail in the distance. It stops me for a minute, and I turn in that direction. They’re heading away from us. I think of the park, of the distraction, and imagine the violence taking place just a short distance away.

The idea of police draws out a new fear that’s been lurking just out of reach.

“What happens when the cops search the house and find two dead people, Angel? You think we can just get away with this? They’ll find us. We’ll go to jail for murder. This is so fucking stupid—”

“It’s a possibility,” he cuts me off, unafraid of the truth, “but that’s why you’re with me. I’ll take it if it comes to that. They don’t investigate gang murders very deep. If the target has a family that can afford to fight they will. Otherwise, it’s seen as they had it coming.”

We wait there for a few more minutes before Angel decides it’s time to move. I follow him to the bedroom window. He has a shot but doesn’t take it. It’s an easy one through the window, but the girl would go free. As soon as the couple leaves the room Angel jumps through without hesitation. He reaches for my hand, and I almost run, but can’t decide which is the bigger mistake. I grip the windowsill, and pull myself up, ignoring his offer of help. He grabs the belt loop in my jeans to hoist me up, and my heart goes wild with panic. I wriggle into the house like a loose fish on the dock trying to escape grasping hands.

“Don’t touch me,” I hiss, panting with rage. I’m instantly drenched in nervous sweat, despite the cool evening air. The gun in my hand feels slick, but I squeeze it tight.

Angel and I hold each other’s gaze in a tense stand-off. I can’t tell if his clenched jaw means he’s angry or feels bad, so I just wait.

A figure walks past the open door of the dark room. I catch a trailing glimpse of long blonde hair. I don’t think she saw us, but my muscles lock up waiting for her to come around the corner with a weapon. Angel nudges my shoulder, and I crouch next to the closet on the right side of the room.

From here I can see her. She’s in the bathroom with her back to me, looking for something in one of the drawers. I panic, afraid she’ll pull out a gun, and that I’ll have to shoot her first. I can’t shoot her. I have to do something. Moving on instinct, I rush in from behind and kick her as hard as I can in the back. She flies forward, crashing into the drawer and wrenching it from its track. Her head knocks the floor with a sick smack, and I stare at the cracked tile beneath her temple. Get up. I wait for blood to pool, but it doesn’t. Still, she doesn’t move, and I’m there again, secretly pleading with fate to save me, because taking a life would kill me in so many different ways.

Her upper back rises and falls in a gentle sleepy rhythm, and I close my eyes to keep from crying.

They snap open when I hear the gunshot.

Any trace of emotion vanishes as I run for the window. I don’t know who’s gun it was, but Angel isn’t in the bedroom anymore. I assume it’s his, but can’t take any chances. As I climb out, back to the street, I make sure to use my sleeves against the windowsill.

I lower my body and catch sight of Angel in the bedroom doorway. He’s facing the bathroom, where I left the girl lying on the floor. The gun goes off again, two jolting cracks that reverberate in my chest, and I know she’s dead. My eyes close, fear and regret manifesting into trembling waves.

Once he climbs out we run, and I follow him in a daze. The streets are dark and foggy. Everything feels wet, though it could be the layers of sweat-soaked clothes I’m wearing. I cry silently behind him, wiping away the tears as if they never were.

“Give me your gun,” he says, ducking behind a row of plastic trash barrels.

I duck too and hand it to him without question. He fires it into the ground, and I jump, the sound shaking me out of my skin.

“What the hell...” I say as my thumping heart tries to settle.

I breathe hard, staring at him like he’s crazy, but he just flips the safety on and hands the gun back. I return it to my pocket. “Make sure you wipe that off when we get to my place, you got it?” he says.

“Yeah, I understand, but I’m really confused and I... I...” I lose my words.

“Look, don’t think right now. Just run. We’ll be at my house soon. The cops are going to start realizing what’s going on. There should’ve been six people taken out today. We’ll all be off the streets for a while in hiding, and you’ll need to do the same.”

We reach Angel’s house quickly. When we go inside he takes my shoes and sweater. I hold the gun in my hand and lay it on the floor in front of me as I sit on the couch. Angel brings me a damp washcloth, which I figure is to wipe down the gun.

“After this you don’t have to see me ever again if you don’t want to.” I stare at the floor as he talks. “I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I made you come with me today because I didn’t want you to get into any trouble. I knew I could take care of you. Vee and Omar should be calling soon to get a report.”

As if on cue, the phone rings. I look up as he turns his back to answer it. I hate being alone here with him, but the tension and trauma of the night has left little fight in me.

“It’s done. She took care of her.”

I can hear the muffle of a voice on the other side of the phone, but can’t tell who it is.

“Yeah. Easy and quick. No prints. She knew what to do. I’ll give details later. How’d the rest go?”

It’s silent for a moment, and I glance back at the gun like it’s an old enemy of mine.

“Okay, we’ll talk then.”

He hangs up the phone and sits down. I don’t ask what the person said. I really don’t want to know. I’m leaving soon, and this will all be forgotten. I never want to think of these people or the things that I’ve seen here ever again. I just want out.

We sit there in silence until he takes the damp rag from me and wipes the gun. He puts it in his room with the other and returns with new shoes for me and a new shirt and sweater. I take them and put them on without asking whose they are.

“Can I go home now?” I murmur. “I don’t really want to be here.”

“I know. Yeah, you can go. You’re probably safer at home. Ro will hit you up if we need something.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, heading for the door.

“Lucy,” he says, catching me before I reach it.

I stop but don’t look back.

“You know I did this for you. It was your out. You’re free now. Free to go.”

I nod, with my back to him. It still doesn’t make up for any of it.

This is all just a nightmare I want desperately to wake up from.