Unless he expects me to replace Alex in the gang.
“I thought you were in jail,” I say.
He smiles, with the cigar still hanging out of the side of his mouth. “Let’s just say I got out on a technicality.” He leans forward and talks in a low voice. “Listen, I need to rebuild the Latino Blood, and you’re gonna help me do it.”
“Why me? I’m not connected.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Luis. You were born a Blood.” He pats me on the back. “And you’ll be an LB until the day you die.”
“If I were an animal, I’d most likely be …” by Luis Fuentes
Normally I like writing essays. Last year I wrote a paper in English about why certain aspects of Mexican culture had been integrated so completely into American society. I got an A, of course. Mr. Heilmann somehow got it printed in the local newspaper, which was pretty cool.
But now I’m stumped, which rarely happens. I bet most guys in my class’ll choose a lion, the king of the jungle. I’m not the king, and never have been.
Thinking of a king reminds me of Chuy Soto.
My pen is poised over my paper. I wonder if I was drunk last night or if Chuy really did say he expects me to help him rebuild the Latino Blood. I gaze at a picture of Alex, Brittany, and Paco on the wall.
Mi'amá has the day off. I realize she’s not cooking like I thought. She’s got a cigarette perched between her fingers as she stands over the sink.
“I hate when you smoke,” I tell her.
“It relaxes me.” She takes a drag of the cigarette and taps the ash in the sink. “I got offered a job yesterday, as a receptionist. It’s at the hospital where Elena works.”
“That’s cool.”
“It’s decent money, and includes health benefits,” she says, then lifts the cigarette to her lips again.
“You okay, Ma? You look like you’re freakin’ out.”
“Estoy bien.” She blows out smoke. “Well, everything’s not fine. I got a call today that Carlos was injured.”
I start to panic as horrific images of soldiers who’ve come back in wheelchairs and lost limbs swirl in my head. “What happened? Give it to me straight.”
“Nothing serious, but bad enough that he’s coming home to recuperate.”
“What do you mean it’s nothin’ serious?” I ask. “If he’s comin’ home, it’s got to be bad.”
“It’s his leg. He had to have surgery and couldn’t join the rest of his unit, so they’re forcing him to take a medical leave. He also has to decide it he wants to reenlist. I want him home, but …”
“You heard that Chuy Soto got out of jail.”
“Elena just found out from Jorge.” She points the cigarette at the doorway. “You just make sure you stay away from him. I don’t want you or Carlos getting messed up with him, or the LB.”
Too late for that. I rub the knot forming in the back of my neck. How do I say this? I hesitate and my palms get sweaty. “Ma, did I get ‘blessed in’ the LB?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Chuy Soto said somethin’ to me about bein’ born a Blood and, well, I didn’t know what he meant.”
She points to me, her finger shaking. “You don’t listen to Chuy, Luis. You hear me? Just stay away from him.”
“He’s runnin’ things again. He wants to rebuild the LB.”
I know I have a crazy, dangerous streak—an urge to charge into danger. For the most part I’ve controlled it, but when I met Chuy last night … I kinda got an adrenaline rush at the prospect of facing him head on—to make him pay for his part in Alex’s jumping out, which almost cost him his life.
Mi'amá takes another drag of her cigarette. “Just keep your distance and don’t ask questions.”
“Don’t I have the right to know why the new head of the Blood thinks I’m one of them?” I ask her.
She cups my cheek in her hand. “No, Luis. No questions. We’re always better off not asking questions. You’re safe. We’re all safe as long as you stay away from Chuy.”
I don’t tell her that I don’t want to stay away, because I want to find out what Chuy has planned. The more power he has, the less power the rest of us in Fairfield have. If Chuy has control, he can order revenge on Alex. If my family is in danger, I need to know.
Getting close to Chuy is my only option.
20
Nikki
Derek always has a party on his birthday because his parents are always out of town at a yearly sales conference at the same time. It’s something everyone at Fairfield looks forward to. I was really excited to come to Derek’s party tonight. I haven’t opened up physically or emotionally with Luis since we went on Derek’s boat two weeks ago, but I’ve thought about it every day.
Kendall and I arrived at the party early to decorate the house. Derek took his older brother’s ID and bought a few kegs. Normally I don’t drink, but Luis texted me and said he was definitely coming here tonight.
“What are you doing?” Derek asks as I fill a plastic cup to the rim with beer and start to gulp it down.
“Losing my inhibitions,” I tell him. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You don’t drink, Nikki.”
I raise my cup in the air. “I do now.”
“Kendall!” Derek yells, obviously not knowing how to deal with me. “Come here!”