Wicked Break

Twenty-six

The mild afternoon sun felt like a heat lamp on my neck as Carter and I walked down the street toward the boys. All three were about six feet tall, lanky, and athletic. Two had their heads shaved completely, the other an Afro that was teased nearly two feet off his head. The two shaved heads wore similar navy polos, the Afro a bright green one. The only difference I could see between the two shaved heads was that one of them had a gold hoop in each ear. The baggy jeans that they all sported looked designer. Their faces belied their tough-guy poses, though, and I put each of them at about fifteen years old.

“What’s going on?” I asked, stopping a few feet short of them and trying to sound relaxed.

The kid with the Afro stepped forward and shrugged his shoulders. “Nothin’, man. What’s up with you?”

I couldn’t think of anything better than the truth. “I’m trying to find Deacon.”

The kid laughed, exposing a mouthful of white teeth. “Like you and he all tight and shit, right?”

The two boys behind him snickered.

“No,” I said. “I just need to ask him some questions.”

“You ain’t no five-O,” the one with the earrings said. “’Cause you can’t wear no shorts if you wearin’ a badge.”

“I’m an investigator.”

The Afro lifted his chin and looked past me. “That your partner?”

“Something like that,” I said, glad to know Carter was still behind me. “Any idea where I can find Deacon?”

The kid put a finger to his chin and pretended to think. “Hmmm.”

“Hey, Carlos,” the one without the earrings said. “I know where he might be.”

Carlos smiled at me. “Where’s that, Reg?”

Reg looked at me. “Mission Beach, man. He love it down there.”

They all laughed. I did not.

Reg hit his twin in the shoulder. “Rudy, man. What’s the name of that place he digs so much?”

Rudy grinned, a silver tooth in the middle of the grin. “Think it’s called the SandDune or somethin’ dumbass like that. Someplace you only find dumbass white dudes.”

The anger percolated inside my body. They were sending a message. They wanted me to know that they had either been a part of or knew about the drive-by. The adrenaline spiked in my veins.

“Takes a lot of balls to shoot at somebody out of a car after asking for directions,” I said. “You guys are real big-time. Deacon let you wipe his ass, too?”

The smiles disappeared. Carlos took a step toward me. “What you say, motherfucker?”

Carter, who was standing next to me, grunted. “What he said was, you guys are giant, and when I say giant, I mean huge pussies.”

Fury raged in Carlos’s eyes. “Hey, fuck you, Hulk Hogan.”

“I’m not into guys, Carlos,” Carter said. “Particularly ugly ones.”

Carlos took another step forward and his hand went to his waistband. I lunged at him, grabbed him by the throat, swept his legs with one of mine, and dropped him onto his back.

“Anybody reaches any further and they get an extra hole to stick their finger in,” Carter said, coming up next to me, his gun aimed at the two standing boys.

Reg moved his hand away from his body, but Rudy hesitated.

“You pull that thing out, bud, you better hope it’s bigger than mine,” Carter said to Rudy. “I’m fast and I don’t miss.”

Rudy stared at him for a moment, then eased his empty hand around to where it could be seen.

I looked down at Carlos, dug my knee into his chest, and pressed my right hand down on his throat. “You owe me.”

Carlos’s cool quickly evaporated. His eyes bulged and sweat formed on his forehead. “Bullshit.”

“Bullshit? You come down to my neighborhood and shoot the place up? Try to kill me? Which part is bullshit?” I pressed harder on his chest.

“Man, you’re chokin’ him,” Rudy said.

“Yeah, I am. And I’m gonna kill him if someone doesn’t start talking.” I smiled down at Carlos, squeezing his throat a little harder, his larynx feeling like a rock under my palm. “Right here in the street. In front of all your friends.”

Carlos kicked his legs and slapped his arms wildly at my sides, all to no avail. He tried to speak, but I was cutting off the air and he gagged. His eyes darted from side to side, tears spilling out of the corners.

I looked up at his friends. “Somebody better start fucking talking.”

They looked at each other, unsure what to do. They didn’t want to be bullied, but they didn’t want their leader to die, either. Their thug status was disappearing as reality turned them into scared kids.

“Deacon’s over at Biddly’s, man,” Reg finally said, his voice a little higher than before.

I relaxed my grip slightly on Carlos’s throat. “Keep talking.”

“It’s a liquor store,” Reg said quickly. “Down on Euclid, past the school.”

“Shit,” Rudy whispered, clearly worried about the repercussions of giving up Deacon.

“He hang out there every day,” Reg said, unable to stop himself now. “In the parkin’ lot.”

I looked back down at Carlos. Tears were running down his face. His chest fought for air beneath my knee. The fury that I’d seen in his eyes had been replaced by terror.

“You are one lucky fuck,” I said to him.

“You two on the ground,” Carter said. “Now.”

Reg and Rudy dropped to the street on their stomachs. Carter walked over to them, removed their guns, and had them place their hands behind their backs. He dropped the small pistols in his pocket and walked back to me.

I took my hand off Carlos’s throat, but kept my knee in his chest. “If I ever see you again, Carlos, I will finish this.” I looked him right in the eye. “You understand?”

He couldn’t stem the tears, but he gave a slight nod and turned his face away from mine.

I reached under him, removed the small handgun from his waistband, and stood up. “Roll over and place your hands on your back.”

He did as I said.

Carter and I backed up quickly, not taking our eyes off them as we backpedaled toward the Jeep. The longer we stuck around, the bigger targets we became.

“I take it back,” Carter said. “You are good at your job.”

As we neared the Jeep, I saw Malia Moreno’s face in the front window of the Moreno home. She was staring at us, her eyes wide in surprise.

I looked back down the street. None of the boys had moved, their faces still pressed to the asphalt.

I took a deep breath, trying to exhale the adrenaline and anger that had taken over my body. The fingers that I had wrapped around Carlos’s throat tingled.

“Let’s go find Deacon,” I said as we reached the Jeep. “Before he finds us.”