33. Cruz

33

CRUZ

I prided myself on not being stupid. I had to live my life being two steps ahead of everyone if I wanted to succeed. It had been a solid plan—up until now.

Yesterday was a mind-fuck. It cemented the fact that we had fucked up that night. Would it have been better to involve the cops that night? Did our fear make everything worse? What would have happened if we had spoken up a year ago? Maybe it was easier for me to say that since I had the least to lose.

There were no parents to disappoint, no team to drop me. Sure, the school might have expelled me or some shit, but other than me, no one would give two fucks.

I had been feeling way too raw. That was the only reason I came down to the tracks instead of going home. Since there was no race, the place was currently barren. I got out of my car and walked toward the hood, then sat on it and looked around.

This had been my life.

I had been looking for a thrill, for something to make me feel alive, and I found it here. Every time I raced, I knew I had my life in my hands. Any wrong move on my part and there would go the car I worked so hard to build, or break the body I learned to live in.

Adrenaline was like a drug, and once you got a taste for it, all you could do was wait for your next fix. That was how Big Dog got to me. I got addicted to the thrill, so I jumped on it when he came to me with a chance to make more money.

I wanted an out, and it was time to stand tall on that decision, no matter the consequences.

If I kept evading Big Dog, sooner or later, Ava or Micah could get hurt because of their proximity to me.

Tonight's trip to the lake made me see clearly. We were fucking with fire now, and none of us were exempt from burning. The pile of rocks, the freaking fence, and the mausoleum. It was all too much.

We were in college, and I didn't feel like an adult—at least not one who could handle all of this. What I could control was Big Dog. All the control I had was gone, so I wanted to grab the bull by the horns and try to fix the one thing I knew I could…even if it killed me.

"Let's do this."

I broke the silence around me as I spoke. That was when I noticed I had been outside far longer than I had realized. The dark sky was starting to get some orange hues, signaling that somewhere on the horizon, sunrise was on its way.

When I got back in my car, I did the sign of the cross. I wasn't very religious, but the only reason I even did this was thanks to a sweet old lady. She would wait for the bus a block down from the shelter I was staying at when I was ten. I passed by her every morning on my way to school. One day, my stomach grumbled so loud that she stopped me. She began to speak to me in rapid Spanish, and I could barely follow along.

I knew I was Mexican. My name said it all, but I had been bumped all around the system. The only Spanish I knew was the Spanish I had picked up on the streets. She noticed my confusion, then reached into her bag and handed me a piece of bread.I remembered being stunned by her actions. After I hesitantly took it, she held on to my hand, stopping me from leaving right away. Then, with her right hand, she moved it over my forehead, down to the top of my stomach, and then placed both hands on either side of my chest.

"En el nombre del Padre, del Hijo, y del Espiritu santo."

For the next two years, every Friday, she would hand me a piece of bread, do the sign of the Father, and let me be on my way. And now, years later, when I felt alone and out of control, I did it as a reminder that I could overcome anything.

My car purred as I turned the engine on. The vibrations made my blood sing. I should have been scared of not coming out of this alive, but I did not care.I took the secret passage from the cornfields and then took the hidden path that didn't lead back to the route but to an old, abandoned road that only Big Dog and his crew used.

Some of the guys were still outside. They stood a little straighter as they noticed my car. I turned to the side and parked so that when I got out, they could all see me and know I had nothing to hide.

I left my car on, knowing no one would go near it. I pushed my door open and immediately noticed the ground littered with red cups. Cigarette butts were everywhere, and the heady smell of spilled alcohol and weed filled the air.

The drop must have gone well last night. The party was an alibi and a cover-up, so no one would notice a thing.

"Cruzito!"

I turned my head toward where Luis was calling me. He tipped his beer toward me, and I forced myself to smile.

I had nothing against him—against any of the guys. My only worry was that they would blindly follow Ricky's orders and fuck me over in the process if it meant they could keep getting their bread.

"Where you been, man? You missed the last two missions?"

I almost laughed then.

The word mission lacked the distastefulness of what happened. Raid or stealing would be a better word for it.

Big Dog's real money came from stealing auto parts, electric goods, and anything profitable he could get his hands on. Blackwell Lake was located in a trading gold mine.It took a few hours since you didn't want to hit the same spot twice.

"School. It's kept me busy." I shrugged it off.

Luis and a few others laughed.

"La pinche escuela."

Fucking school. I didn't let his sentiment get to me. I just smiled. If I kept going, this would be my life. I would grow old, drink my life away, and need to steal to get my next meal. Watching over my shoulder for the police to come get me? It was not the way to live. The way I was living now was suffocating me. I could no longer carry on with two leashes around my neck.

It was time to get rid of the one Big Dog had wrapped around me.

"Catch you guys later." I brought my pointer and middle fingers toward my forehead and saluted them.

I was surprised by how calm I felt as I stepped into the small building that Big Dog had called headquarters. My nose scrunched as the smell in here was no better than outside, plus the heady scent of sex and mold added to the mix.

It cemented the fact that this was not the life I wanted to live.

Big Dog was in the back. I could see his office door open. For a second, I thought he was sleeping when I noticed his head thrown back, but a groan soon followed it.

Great, even Big Dog was getting more action than I was nowadays. The only thing I had going on was my left hand.

"I want out," I said as I ruined his blow job.

His head swung my way as I pushed the door back, letting it slam against the wall. The poor chick who had been on the floor quickly got up. Her eyes were glazed, and she used the back of her hand to wipe the saliva from her mouth. She didn't look back at Ricky as she hurried past me and exited through the door.

I might not be on my knees blowing Ricky, but the asshole got off on the fact that he owned me—or so he thought.

"There's no out," he spat as he fixed his zipper.

"I'm. Out."

He jumped up from his desk, put his grubby little hands on it, and leaned against it as he glared at me.

"You do what I say. And you don't drop me; I drop you."

At this, I smiled.

"You sure you want to force me? One wrong move on my part, and I can bring this all crumbling down."

Ricky pointed his finger at me.

"You don't want to find out what happens to those who cross me!"

"One more job and I'm done," I told him as I turned around, prepared to walk out.

He cursed and then let out a slow whistle, knowing someone would come and heed his call.

"Three," he replied. I was about to tell him one, or I could go to the cops and lock us all up when he spoke again. "One for each of your new little friends. You wouldn't want them to get hurt, would you? Although that skater is a pretty little thing."

My mistake was turning around to glare. Big Dog was smiling, his yellow teeth on display. His eyes went past me before he spoke to me again.

"No one leaves me," he said, and then I felt a blow to my back, making everything go black.