New York City (A Year and a Half Earlier)
Simon and I leaned against the back of the warehouse under the black sky, sharing a cigarette.
“I need to get out of here.”
Sirens wailed in the distance in the city that never sleeps, and somewhere in the apartment complex above us, a couple argued.
“You’re whack, man!” Simon gazed at me through the thick smoke. “You can’t just split without the main man’s say-so.”
“Try me,” I said, shrugging and pulling my sweatshirt hood over my head to keep the night chill away.
Simon’s dark skin nearly blended in with the darkness of the alley, his long-sleeve shirt pulled tight against his muscular frame. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, not smoking, just staring into space. “Is it Ángel? Is he spookin’ you, bro?”
I stared down at my cancer stick. Concerned was a better word, I suppose. I thought of Diana and the girls like her who didn’t deserve to be used for sex, and I knew that our brotherhood had stooped to a low we could never rise from.
We were no longer boys who helped each other with homework, found suits for prom, or staged street fights for cash. We had become men living in the shadows, and I no longer felt alive there. The street fights became more violent, the drug deals turned more dangerous, and already one of our boys had been arrested a week before.
Would I one day have to watch Simon get shot over a deal gone bad? Or another member die of an overdose from one too many pills?
I saw the truth: people I cared about were getting hurt. There was no sugar coating a very real reality.
Ángel seemed to enjoy the power it gave him, though, the sense of control he had over us, but it was people like Diana who had to endure the scars.
“Those girls,” I whispered, afraid of being overheard. “Ángel has become a pimp, and I can’t stay here knowing what he’s doing.”
“Drugs aren’t much more legal, and you haven’t up and abandoned us because of that,” Simon said with a sarcastic laugh. But the laugh sounded forced, and I wondered if he agreed with me. “Besides, where would you hide?”
I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed in smoke and cold night air. Images of a town by the lake forced their way into my mind. Images of home.
I glanced at Simon, his eyes wide in surprise. “You’re for real?”
I nodded.
“He’ll come after you,” Simon said. “You know that.”
I did, and that was why I needed Simon’s help.
I first told Ángel I was sick, that I couldn’t come to the warehouse, but you could only have the flu for so long. I didn’t know what to do next, where to go, or who I should talk to, and I was afraid to stay at Dad’s apartment out of fear of Ángel coming to look for me.
But, apparently, I was lucky.
Because two weeks after deciding to leave, two weeks of avoiding the gang, I found Mia, and the tip I gave the police about my brothers and Ángel sent Fénix Blood on the run.
Why was I lucky? Because two weeks earlier, I would have been discovered smoking a joint with my brothers and considered a part of that murder. Two weeks earlier, the police would have been looking for me.
They probably should have been, because the blood of those girls was still on my hands.
I was still a murderer by association.
If I had been braver, less naïve, more aware of people other than myself, maybe Mia would have lived. Instead, I ran away when I could have saved a life.
This makes me not only a murderer, but a coward, and I’d regret my actions until my dying day.
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Present Day
Jake puts his hand on the trigger, ready to take the life of someone who will die because of me. No. NO!
My eyes lock with Rina’s. “Run,” I mouth.
As I dive into the line of Jake’s gunfire, I close my eyes and pray to a God I’ve never had enough faith to believe in, pray that maybe my self-sacrifice will keep me from the hellfire I know I deserve.
A deafening pause fills my ears. My eyes fly open. Rina scrambles out of the treehouse and disappears down the hole and out of sight. I zero in on Jake.
“What the—” Jake’s finger presses down on the trigger again, and there’s the audible click of an empty chamber.
I don’t feel anything—not the tear in my shoulder or my freezing, wet body. It’s as though I can no longer feel, as though every fiber of my being hums, attuned toward survival and getting Rina out alive.
I sock Jake in the jaw, not giving him a chance to shoot the Glock again. He’s taken by surprise as he’s thrown back onto the floor. In a moment, I’m on top of him.
It’s like we’re back at the warehouse. My hands are in tight fists and I bash his face in, hot rage releasing the monster inside. It’s like I’m beating Ángel and the devil and sin and darkness, all in one. This is more than Jake or my battle with Ángel—this is me killing all that is bad in the world, the thing that causes young boys to be turned into killers and bullies and rapists and terrorists. The kind of evil that brings war and famine and death and decay.
And I take it all out on Jake.
Suddenly, I feel the tip of Jake’s blade at my neck. My fists pause. “You get away from him.” Joe’s voice echoes behind me. He removes the knife and I crawl away from Jake, adrenaline causing my body to shake.
Jake tries to sit, but Joe moves his knife closer. “I called the cops and they’re on their way. Sean, if you beat him to death, you’ll have a murder on your hands, and you don’t want that.”
“He already does,” Jake says with a laugh, a dribble of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. But he stops when the knife presses closer.
“If you don’t stop,” Joe says, “I swear you’re going to regret ever touching my sister.”
“Not if I shoot you first.”
I curse and turn as best I can. Joe holds a blade to Jake—and Jess holds her gun up to Joe. Her movements are clunky, slow, and I hope the hit to her head has her too dizzy to properly function. Ben is still slumped on the ground, out cold. How hard did Jake hit him?
I swallow a lump in my throat, my palms slick with sweat. This is not going to end well.
“Jake, we gotta get out of here before the cops come.” Jess’s gaze becomes hard marble, but her hands shake. “I’ll leave you here if I have to, but I’m not playing your game anymore. I’m not going to jail for murder.”
Joe’s face pales. “Look, man. Let’s make a deal. I’ll put down my gun if the chick does the same.” He looks from side to side.
“Listen to him, Jake,” I say. “You have a chance to be free.”
“Jake...” Jess eases toward the stairs. The right side of her face is bruised from where I’d hit her, and she limps. “I’m getting out of here, and if I were you, I’d get your brother while you have the chance.”
Joe and Jake face off for another long moment. Outside, the wind has slowed, and I shiver, my body tense.
Jess hovers at the opening, her gun wavering. “Goodbye, Jake.”
“Fine.” Jake mutters a curse and turns toward Joe. “It’s a deal, but you first.”
Joe nods.
“No—don’t trust him,” I begin, but Joe has already laid down his weapon. Jess slips outside, and I hold my breath, waiting. In painstakingly slow movements, Jake inches his way over to Ben and pulls his brother to his feet.
His eyes on me, Jake leans forward. “I didn’t kill Mia.”
The blood drains from my face, but I refuse to show emotion.
“I swear—I tried to stop him, but Ángel wouldn’t listen. He was drunk and angry and enjoyed the control of hurting powerless girls. You don’t have to believe me, Brogan, and I couldn’t care less, but don’t think the cops are going to get me for murder, because I’m as clean as you.” He backs toward the stairs. “You’re worth far less than me. At least I didn’t let my mom die. See you around, Brogan.”
I scream a curse, and he practically jumps down the hole, dragging a still-unconscious Ben with him, both the brothers disappearing out of sight.
“Jake!” I dash down after him, grabbing Jake’s Glock off the ground, forgetting that ten minutes before, he couldn’t get it to fire.
My shoulder screams with pain and my strength is gone, but I take a stance, my body trembling as I aim. Jake flees with Ben on his back and Jess keeping pace, two black figures in the distance zigzagging between the trees. Ben seems to weigh Jake down, but he’s been trained well, and I have probably less than five seconds to get a decent shot.
My finger hovers over the trigger.
Boom. The world echoes with the roar of the gun, and I miss, then fire again. My ears ring, and I draw in an unsteady breath.
But in less than ten seconds, Jake, Ben, and Jess are gone, disappearing into the vast woods. I fall to my knees with exhaustion.