My hands shake as I look down at the photograph in my hands. Anthony keeps repeating the words, “Tank did it. He did it,” over and over again, but I’m practically deaf. Everything has shut down for me at the moment. I’ve been sleeping with the enemy, and he somehow managed convinced me otherwise.
Every bit of my body feels as if it has burst into red and white flames. I walk past Anthony and towards my window where I stare blankly out into the dark streets. It’s a calm autumn night with not a sound from outside but the occasional car coming past. As I watch, I’m not sure what I want to see. I just want to escape.
“Sierra!” Anthony grabs my shoulder and spins me around to face him. “Do you hear me? I’m talking to you! You’ve got to let go of Tank. Go hide out at Abe’s place and let this pass over. The Aztecs have a plan, and you’re gonna be caught in the middle of it if you’re not careful.” I could see the real concern Anthony had for me. He was still young, but he was a father. He knew the price of life, especially after almost losing his sister.
I gulp down the huge lump in my throat and choke back the tears threatening to burst through my eyes. “I can’t, Anthony. I can’t do it. I need to handle Tank myself. Will you just let me call him and straighten this out?”
He places his hands on my shoulders and begins to shake me. “Are you crazy?” he demands. “Or are you just so goddamn stupid that you’re forgetting about my sister and her coma. If he can do that to her without any reason, what makes you think he won’t touch you?”
“Because… because…” I hesitate. I don’t have an answer for him. I didn’t have one for Carmen earlier when she asked how I could trust Tank after everything, and now I was again questioning what had been real and what had been my imagination over the last week. Everything was telling me that I wasn’t seeing Tank clearly and that I had allowed him to seduce me and cloud my judgement. But then why was I feeling like I needed him here more than ever?
I grit my teeth and answer with a closed jaw, “Because this picture doesn’t tell me anything.”
Anthony looks like he’s about to blow his stack…or smack me in the face. He’s like a younger brother to me, but he still feels the need to protect me, especially from myself. I’m sure that as an Aztec, he’s seen things I can’t even account for. He knows the ins and outs better than I can guess or imply. But I still am not going to give in just yet. I need to talk to Tank.
I try to smile at him. It’s one of those plastered on smiles that reminds me of a politician under attack. “Will you at least let me sleep on this? We’ve both been through so much with Carmen, and I just need a good night’s rest to clear my head.” I place my hand on his shoulder and slowly escort him towards the door. He attempts to protest, but I’m already a step ahead of him. “Tell your wife I’ll come see her this weekend and relieve her of mom duties for a couple hours. She can go get her nails done, or you can take her out to see a movie or something. We all could use the break, but especially you guys.”
The change of subject tactics always work, especially when you’re working a guy. I learned that from my mom, who always knew just what to say to avoid a conversation. Make it about them, butter them up, and keep it moving. It was a skill.
I reach for the handle of the door and use my hand to guide him outside. But he stops suddenly, pushing me back. I can feel through his shirt every muscle in his body tense up as he takes a large step backwards. I peer through the open crack in the door in time to see an arm reach forward and grab Anthony by his neck.
“Tank! No!” I shout at the top of my lungs as I close my apartment door quickly. “Let him go! It isn’t what you think!”
Tank turns to me as he pushes Anthony into the couch in the living room. “It isn’t what I think? This punk ass isn’t trying to hurt you like he did his own sister?”
I’m confused, totally and utterly confused. But I’m in too much of a panic to say anything. Instead, I walk over and grab Tank by the arm, forcing him to get off of Anthony. Anthony rolls over as soon as his neck is free and begins to cough and choke. “What are you talking about, Tank? Anthony is here to talk to me.”
“Really?” he says suspiciously, as he keeps his eyes on Anthony. “Then why did my man tell me he saw you two fighting through your window?”
“What man!”
“It doesn’t matter who he is. It matters what he saw. Don’t defend this fucker, Sierra!”
I can’t believe it, but Tank is actually raging at me…the person whose door he just stormed through and whose guest he just assaulted. I walk towards Anthony and help him to his feet. Clarity is coming back to me, as I check this little moment off in the whole Tank definitely attacked Carmen box. I had known before that he was an animal, but now I am seeing past the lover’s haze, and I’m seeing that he is a monster.
“You have no right to come in here and tell me to do anything, Tank! Not after what you did to Carmen. Were you just using me to add another hit to your list? Or was I just a fun bedding you could brag about to your boys?”
He meets my eyes. I can see the anger boil over in him. His wavy hair seems to stand on end, and his eyes bulge as he cries out, “How many times do I have to tell you that I had nothing to do with your roommate?”
“Yeah? Then what the fuck is this?” I hand him the picture that has become crumpled up in my hand. I watch as he studies it closely, but his face doesn’t change. There is no glimmer of recognition or sign of defeat. It’s as if he’s seeing the image for the first time as well.
His voice is lower and softer when he finally speaks. “You think this is me?” he asks, practically in a whisper.
Anthony beats me to it, his impatience finally coming out. “Yeah, you asshole. You’re nothing but a cowardly little bastard to attack my sister like that.”
“This isn’t me.”
“What?” I ask, more annoyed now than ever. “The tattoo is yours! You just showed it to me a few hours ago.”
Tank reaches for his collar and pulls down his jacket. Underneath, he is still wearing one of his endless supplies of tight black shirts. He rolls up the sleeves so that I can see the same tattoo again. This time, he added, “Yeah, it’s the same tattoo, but look closely at it. That picture has the two feathers apart. That’s because we changed the tattoos a few years ago. All my guys got them updated to match the new logo. There’s only one guy out there who still has the old version of that tattoo.”
My mouth goes completely dry. “No… Abe?” I whisper
“Abe,” he confirms, as he pulls down his sleeve.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Anthony looks at us accusingly. We’re calling out his leader; he obviously feels obligated to react.
“Anthony,” I turn back towards him and usher him to sit. “Abe was an Apache years ago. He was even second-in-command, but then he tried to pull a power grab and the guys kicked him out. But he still has the Apache tattoo on his arm, but it’s the older version like the one in the picture.”
“That means—”
I finish his thought for him, “Abe was the attacker. He did this to Carmen.”
“No. I don’t believe it.” Anthony has the look about him…that of a man completely in shock, like his world just turned and twisted under him.
“Believe it, kid,” Tank interjects. “Your leader is taking down your family one by one in order to get you guys to move against me. It’s all about revenge for him, and you’re just a sad, pathetic pawn.”
“Tank!” I shout. “Go wait for me in my bedroom!”
“I’m not leaving you alone with him.” Tank puffs up his chest as Anthony, looking more beaten than ever, sinks back into the couch.
I place my hands on his chest and push him backwards. “You can either wait for me, or you can leave. Don’t make me call the cops.”
He looks just like a sulking child as he hunches his shoulders and turns down the hallway. I watch as the door slams, and I hear him fall down into my bed. I’ll have to deal with him later. Right now, Anthony and I need to make a plan.
“Abe… I can’t believe that Abe could… I mean, why would he pick her?” Anthony’s head buries deep into his palms, as he shakes it in disbelief. I run to his side, placing my arm around him. “This is all my fault,” he sighs.
“It’s not your fault. You had no idea that he could sink this low. I didn’t know either. And part of me thinks he picked Carmen to get me to pay attention to him. This is as much my fault as anybody’s.”
“What are we going to do, Sierra? I can’t go back to the clubhouse—not knowing this at least. And what about my kids? My wife? What about Carmen?”
“Don’t worry about Carmen. I’ll make sure she’s safe. But right now, what we need to do is decide what the next step is. I think you should go to the cops. Ask for immunity and protection. Then get out of town. If you need some money, I’ve got enough to get you and the kids on a plane somewhere far from here.” It was my inheritance from my father. I hadn’t touched it since he died. It was all blood and drug money in my mind.
“Sierra, I don’t know if I can do that.” His voice is collapsing in on itself, as he begins to realize just what has to be done.
I rub my palm lightly on his back, soothing him. “I know, I know. But think about Carmen. She deserves justice. And Abe needs to be taken down before he pulls another stunt. Please, Anthony. At least tell the cops that Tank knows.” I think back to the hospital, the day we left for Mexico. Tank has connections that could make this much easier on Anthony to get out of this.
Minutes pass, as Anthony sits heavy with his thoughts. He breaks the silence when he sighs and says, “I’ll do it…for Carmen.”
I stand and walk towards the bedroom, explaining to Tank that we need to get Anthony and his family to the cops so he can get Abe under some heat. Tank scribbles down a cell number and hands it back to me. “Tell him to call Thompson and tell him that Tank sent him. He’ll get him through the system fast enough.” I thank him quietly and go to turn, but he reaches out and grabs my arm. Pulling out his wallet, he hands me a roll of cash. “The kid is gonna need it if he is gonna get away from this mess. Give it to him.”
Anthony leaves out the back of my apartment with the cash and the number. And I’m left with this feeling that I had signed my own death sentence.