CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

I don't have any nightmares last night. I don't know if that's a good thing. Part of me feels like I just replaced one drug for another drug. On the surface, it seems like Vivian is a far better drug than heroin, but I'm not so sure anymore.

I'm not so sure any drug is good. All I'm doing is avoiding facing my grief. Whether it's sex with Vivian, a needle in my arm, or an anger-fueled rant at Julian Kensington, I'm just hiding from the real struggle.

I think I'll go to Venice today. Today's my day off, so I only have the four clients I missed from the other day when I went to the cops about Clara's drug use. I'll finish those, then I'll return the van early and take the bus down to Venice. It's going to be crowded as hell, but that's all right. I wouldn't mind getting lost in a crowd today. It's better than going home where Mom will just have me running to the Circle K for groceries and then to Leo's for alcohol. It's a hell of a lot better than staying in Autumn Downs where I'll either end up lurking around the Kensingtons' place until I get mad enough to confront them or heading to Vivian's to use sex to drown my emotions.

I finish just after eleven, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I leave the neighborhood. The security guard is different today, and he doesn't even look up from his cell phone when I leave. I like him.

I drop the van off, and head to the bus station. It'll take me about an hour to get to Venice. I figure probably another hour of waiting for food before I can head to the ocean and unwind. The heatwave has calmed considerably, but it's still ninety-six degrees here, and it'll probably be close to ninety at the beach, figure maybe eighty with the breeze. The point is it will still be busy as hell.

"Nate! Hey!"

I hear the voice, and at first I think I'm just hearing things. No way he's actually here right now. I swear, the most irritating parts of my life are clinging to me like gum to the bottom of a sneaker.

"Nate! I know you can hear me asshole!"

Nope. That's really him.

I sigh, then force a smile as I look up. That smile fades immediately when I see the dark frown on Marco's face. He's sitting in his truck at the bus stop glaring at me. The other waiting passengers are ignoring him with the almost instinctive blindness of long-term Metro riders.

I remember the hard look he wore the first day I ran into him in Autumn Downs. I remember how much it reminded me of Arturo's expression, the one that made me certain that he had earned his teardrop tattoos.

"Everything okay, Marco?"

"No. Get in the fucking truck."

I look around uneasily, half-expecting to see a bunch of equally hard-faced gangsters staring at me. "There a problem with talking here?"

"You want to pay my ticket when LAPD pulls me over for blocking the bus stop? Get in the truck."

I consider my options. None of them are good. If I try to leave, then Marco will just find me at Autumn Downs. If I go with him…

Well, what? What did I do to him anyway? He's probably just offering me a job. I'll have to figure out how to tell him no, but I can tell him the police are watching me because of Lila's murder. It's better if I lay low for a while.

"Do I have to get out and drag you? Get in the truck, pendejo."

I doubt that Marco could drag me considering I outweigh him by forty pounds, but I also don't want to get into a fight with him, so I get in the truck. He pulls away and accelerates rapidly to the speed of traffic, but thankfully doesn't weave recklessly.

"Everything okay?" I ask again.

"No. But we're going to talk about it over lunch, okay? I'm pissed right now, and if I talk while I'm pissed, I'm just going to end up yelling at you."

My eyes widen. I've never heard of Marco even attempting to control his emotions. I don't want to risk ruining that, so I don't say anything.

He drives back toward the L.A. Flats, the high-class area near the similarly named neighborhood of Beverly Hills where Autumn Downs is located. I frown and ask, "Are you taking me back to Autumn Downs?"

"No, stupid. We're getting lunch."

"In the Flats?"

"They sell tacos there too."

I decide it's better if I don't say anything else, so I wait until he pulls into the parking lot of a very nice-looking Mexican restaurant that looks like the kind of place the residents of Autumn Downs might frequent.

"Um… are you sure we're dressed right for this place?"

He gives me a look that's full of so much contempt that I actually flinch. That's the only response I get from him. He gets out of the car and heads inside.

I follow after a few seconds and once more fall silent until we have our food, and we're sitting at a table on the restaurant's patio.

Marco efficiently works his way through a plate of four tacos al pastor. I am no longer even remotely hungry, but I don't want to put Marco in an even worse mood, so I finish the two carne asada tacos I have on my plate and stay silent.

When Marco finishes his last bite, he takes a long sip of water, then looks me right in the eyes. "You're a fucking idiot, bro."

I nod. "So I've heard."

"Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I'm trying to keep cool, but there's only so much I can take, even from Marco. "It might help if you told me what exactly has you so pissy," I fire back.

"I just came from Vivian's place."

I flinch again. My frustration flares into suspicion and anger. "Doing what?"

He frowns. "Mowing her fucking lawn, dipshit."

I feel heat climb into my cheeks. "Okay. I was just asking."

"Yeah, believe it or not, I'm actually not an asshole."

The heat migrates to my neck. "Okay. I'm sorry."

"Seriously, man." He's calmer now, more incredulous than angry. "What the hell is going on with you? It's like you never grew up."

I frown. "Like I never grew up?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot that I must be the immature one. After all, I joke about hot girls and talk like I came from the hood. I must be a little man-child who never grew out of boosting cars. Forget the fact that I have a good job and my own apartment. Forget that unlike you, I haven't touched drugs in three years."

"You told me that you took that job to sleep with married women and steal from the elderly."

"I was joking,pendejo. I thought that was obvious. Why the hell when I have a good job and a place of my own would I throw all that away over someone's diamond earrings? And don"t give me shit about sleeping around, either. I talked to Vivian, remember? She didn't say anything, but I'm not stupid. Women don't blush like that talking about their platonic friends."

I glare at him. "Screw you."

"No, screw you. My family life was messed up too, bro. My dad beat on me pretty much constantly. He beat on my mom too, and my mom blamed me for it. My older brother"s doing twenty-to-life for killing some dude in front of his kids, and my sister's in and out of rehab. Life sucks for everyone, not just you."

I want to stay angry, but I can't. The truth of what he says hits me hard. It's like he poured ice water on my head, and I can think clearly after being drunk all night.

"I'm sorry," I say, and this time I mean it.

He must be able to tell that I mean it because he sighs and says in a much less angry tone, "It's all right, bro. It's just… dude, I care about you. I know we haven't talked in a while. I figured after you were caught, you were leaving the life behind, and you didn't want to talk to anyone still inside, and I supported that. Then I ran into you, and you had a job, and you looked good, like healthy. Like you weren't using anymore. Then you told me you were going to college and stuff. Like, that's awesome, bro. That's really good."

I feel a lump form in my throat. This whole time, I thought Marco was trying to pull me under again. Instead, the truth is almost the opposite. He got his shit together—really got it together. And I'm the one stuck under the past.

"I just…" he sighed. "Look, I don't know how to be all motivational and shit, but I feel like you're letting this thing with the Kensington girl ruin your chance at a future. Honestly, I think it's all messing with you. Even Vivian, like… I'm not saying she's a bad person. I think she's pretty cool, but man, there's nothing there for you. I get that she's hot, but she's… I don't know what I'm saying. I just think you need to get out of all this crap and focus on yourself. Just clean the pools, keep your head down, keep your business to yourself, stay out of their business, get your money, and go to school. But all this shit about going to the Kensingtons' house to threaten them?" He shakes his head. "Man, you can't afford that. You get caught littering, you're in the system for life. You can't be messing with this shit."

I know he's right, but it's not that easy. I get the part about Vivian. Honestly, I'm half-ready to put an end to that too. I think she probably feels the same way, especially after yesterday.

But I just can't just look away and pretend that Lila wasn't murdered. I can't throw my hands in the air and say, "Oh well. I guess she's dead now."

"I can't just…" I sigh. "She was murdered, Marco."

"So what?" I stare at him in shock, and he shrugs and says, "Seriously. So what? Like five kids got killed in a nightclub last week in New York. You want to go find the people who shot them and kick their asses?"

"No, but… this is different."

"Why? Was she your girlfriend or something?"

I shrug. "Well, she could have been."

"Bro, you're tripping. Look at me. You clean their pools. That's what you do. The best you'd have gotten from her was a quick screw in her bedroom while her parents weren't home."

"It's not about that!"

"It should be. She's not your girlfriend. She's not your sister, or your cousin, or your best friend, or your wife. There was nothing for you there."

"But in her diary—"

"I don't give a shit about her diary! Grow up! You think you're the only cute boy she wrote about? Like you two were star-crossed souls and your lives were ruined by the cruel ogre of the mountains or some shit? This is what I mean when I say grow up. That shit was going on long before you showed up, and when you finally come to your senses and leave, that shit—all of it—is going to keep going on long after everyone, including Vivian, forgets who the fuck you are."

I don't answer. There's nothing to say. He's right, but I don't care that he's right. No, I care. I know that I'm probably getting myself into trouble that'll hurt me for the rest of my life.

But…

"I can't just let it go, man. That's what happened to Annie. People just let it go. My sister died, and whoever killed her is out there living his best life."

"You don't know that. For all you know, he killed himself nine years ago because he couldn't live with the guilt. But I get your point." He sighs. "Look, go to the cops, man. I know that's weird coming from the guy who's supposed to be a thief, but go to them. It's their job. Let them handle it."

"But they're not handling it."

"So now you're a cop too? You don't know that they're not handling it."

"They didn't handle Annie."

Tears are welling in my eyes now, but I can't stop them. Marco looks at me with compassion and says quietly, "You don't know that either."

I look away from him and angrily wipe tears from my eyes. "Screw you."

"Shit happens, bro. It sucks. I get it. But shit happens. Sometimes people get hit by cars, and the cops do everything they can, but they don't find the guy. I'm not saying for sure that's what happened, but maybe it is. But you going to their house, stealing their daughter's property? That's not going to help anyone."

I take a deep breath and release it glumly. "I know. I just fucking hate it."

"Me too. But…" he lifts his hands and lets them drop.

We sit in silence for a long moment. It ends when Marco smiles and says. "Come on. I'll drop you off at Venice."

"Venice?"

"Yeah. That's where you're headed, right?" His smile disappears. "You're going to leave it alone. Understand?"

I nod. "I understand."

I hope that will be the last lie I ever tell him.

"Good. Wipe your eyes before you get in the truck, I don't need you crying all over my leather seats."

I chuckle and say, "Screw you," affectionately this time.