by Hope Stone
I unlocked the thick padlock and dragged the heavy metal gate open. Ortega’s Autos did auto repair on all kinds of cars, but we specialized in American makes. This wasn’t the place to take your Porsche or Mercedes. It was where you went when your Chevy Cavalier needed a tune up and it was off warranty. Oh sure, we got the occasional T-bird or Camaro, but for the most part, this wasn’t the place to bring your muscle car or your high-end auto. Padre wanted to fly under the radar, and so Ortega’s was the kind of nondescript auto shop you’d see on street corners in every town.
My nose was hit with nostalgia as I walked in. The combination of motor oil, tire rubber, and electronic equipment reminded me of when I first started working here. I hadn’t known a thing about cars, let alone bikes. This was the only job I’d ever had and I worked my way up from being an assistant mechanic to being the shop supervisor. The only one I answered to was Padre.
Twenty minutes later, I was finishing up my oil change when I heard Padre’s bike rumble up. I would be glad to talk to him, since we hadn’t really seen each other in awhile. He’d been acting so weird I figured maybe we could clear the air.
“Ryder,” he said, as he came through the side door. “I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk.”
I’d wanted to talk, too, but there was something in his tone that told me this wasn’t going to be a social conversation.
“Sure, I’ll be right in.” I wiped my hands off on a shop towel and put away the tools and then went over to the small office located at the back of the shop floor.
The door was closed so I knocked on the frosted window.
“Yeah,” he said through the door.
I opened the door and went in. Figuring we were alone, I left the door open as I came inside.
“Close the door, Ryder.”
Okay…not really sure why he wanted it closed, but I complied and then sat down on the bare metal folding chair opposite his desk.
The office looked like every shop owner’s office. A metal file cabinet was stuffed in the corner, with auto supplies in boxes everywhere. Our license was in a cheap frame and hanging crookedly on the wall. Padre’s desk was littered with invoices, bills, about a million pens, and a couple of half-drunk cups of coffee.
His tanned face had deepset lines and his brown eyes were starting to sink back in his face from age. He had salt-and-pepper hair that was thick and unruly, and broad, callused hands from a lifetime of manual labor. He was frowning and rubbing the back of his neck.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to ask?” He looked at me with those black eyes and there was no warmth or compassion coming from them at all.
I had no idea what he was talking about or why he was upset, but it was pretty clear he was. “I don’t know what you mean, Padre.”
“You don’t?” he reached for a half empty bottle of water on his desk. “You don’t have any idea why I would call you in here?” He took a swig and then licked his lips. “That’s how you’re going to play it?”
I wasn’t “playing” anything, and if any other person on the planet talked to me like this I would already be up in his face. But this was Padre. “What’s wrong, Padre?”
“What’s WRONG, Ryder, is that you obviously thought I don’t know what’s going on around here and that you could get away with shit.”
I shook my head, as I was at a total loss. “What are you talking about?”
“The parts? The missing parts that you’re stealing from me. That’s what I’m talking about.”
I frowned and said, “Whoa! Padre! I’m not stealing anything. There are parts missing?” I was totally confused. I hadn’t noticed anything missing at all. I had zero knowledge of any of this. “What’s missing?”
Padre shook his head as if he didn’t believe me. “I’m not going to tell you what I know because then you’ll know what you got away with and what you didn’t. I just wanted to warn you that I know what you’re fucking doing and if it happens again you are going to be goddamn sorry. You remember what happened to Stryker.”
Stryker was a patch who’d been taking cash under the table for work he did for us and when Padre found out, he beat him so badly that the guy ended up in a wheelchair.
“Look, Padre. You know I wouldn’t steal from you. You know me. If there are parts missing, let me—”
“I don’t know shit, Ryder. You can’t trust anyone a hundred percent. No one. The only reason I’m talkin’ to you about this instead of kicking your ass first is because of our history. But that’s done and now I’m warning you. Any more parts go missing around here and it’s on you.”
He glared at me with watery eyes and a stone-set jaw. The conversation was apparently over.
The chair scraped the floor as I stood up. “I’ll find out who did it, Padre.” Without another word, I left his office and shut the door behind me.
To say I was upset would be an understatement. I truly couldn’t believe that Padre would accuse me of stealing from him. After everything that had happened between us! I thought of him like a father, and I thought he considered me a son.
As soon as I left the shop, I headed straight to the gym. I needed to get my head clear from all the shit going on. First, the trouble with Lily and Scorpion. Then there was Paige and how I found myself thinking about her all the time. And now this.
I always kept workout stuff in my bike bag and so I didn’t need to stop. Swole gave me and the rest of the guys free memberships, although these days I was pretty much the only one who took advantage of it.
“Hey Ryder,” she said as I walked in the gym. “Wasn’t expecting you today.”
Swole was our Sergeant at Arms. She was in charge of security for the Outlaw Souls and she did a great job. She got the nickname “Swole” when she became a member because of her muscular physique. I didn’t think she used steroids, but I couldn’t be sure. Her biceps were bigger than mine, and when she was in a fight, she was like a ferocious dog that wouldn’t stop until her opponent was unconscious and bleeding. You did not want to fuck with Swole.
I didn’t want to talk, so I just nodded hello and headed to the locker room to change. My life might be spiraling out of control, but there were a few things I was still in charge of, and one of them was my body. I was going to run fast, lift hard, and force my body to remember who was boss. No more sexy dreams about Paige. No more feeling helpless with Lily or feeling betrayed by Padre. Just me, sweating until I couldn’t think anymore.
Paige
As I pulled my car out of the parking space that I knew would be gone by the time I got back, I was a combination of angry, worried, and sad. I was angry because Bailey had just taken off without even thinking to leave me a note. I had no idea where she was, but I knew she couldn’t get far on foot. La Playa was a big town inside an even bigger city.
I was worried about her on two levels. One, I was worried about what could happen to her in a town like this. A rich white girl walking around in last night’s party clothes is an invitation for trouble. But on a deeper level, I was worried about her acting out like this. Sneaking out, getting drunk at a college party, and then not even thinking to tell me where she went this morning—that wasn’t like Bailey.
The reason I was sad was that I saw so much of myself in her. We had the same judgmental parents who were as emotionally unavailable as they were critical. Unlike me, though, Bailey had an older sister who actually cared and was someone who would literally come to her rescue at one in the morning. Which led me back to being angry again.
Driving around on a Sunday morning, I tried to think of where she would go. Where would I have gone?
For one thing, she was likely to be hungover. I doubted she’d go to Tiny’s and have a sit-down breakfast all by herself. It was more likely to be somewhere that she could go and grab something to eat or drink and get back to my apartment before I woke up. Which led to one place near here—the Southgate Martinez market.
Sure enough, just as I pulled
into the parking lot, Bailey came walking out of the store, eating a burrito that was wrapped in tin foil. She had a horchata drink and a white plastic bag draped over her arm.
I pulled the Honda up and rolled down the passenger window. “Bailey!”
Her face lit up and she even had the nerve to smile. “Oh, hi Paige. Thanks for coming to get me.” She pulled open the car door and got in the passenger side.
“‘Hi, Paige’? That’s what you have to say to me?” I was mad and not doing a very good job of containing it.
“Should I have said hola?” She took a big sip of her drink, grinning.
I sat there for a moment, contemplating my response. If I blew up at her now, there would be no chance of her listening to me about the bigger stuff I needed to say. So I just took a deep breath and exhaled and smiled back. “Yes. ‘Hola, Paige’ would have been more appropriate around here.”
“How did you know where I was?”
“I just thought about where I would go for hangover food and realized this was the closest place.” I pulled the car out into traffic and asked, “Since when do you drink horchata?”
“Oh, I met this girl at the market. She was wearing the same Twenty One Pilots shirt as me. I don’t see a lot of those in Verde Hills.”
“Speaking of which, did you leave anything at my place or can we go straight home before Mom and Dad get back?”
“No, we’re good.”
I turned the car in the direction of the freeway and listened to her talk before getting into the serious stuff. She reminded me of myself so much at sixteen. Half of her was innocent and naïve and the other half was rebellious and ready to take on the world.
As she talked about the girl she’d met and how they’d exchanged phone numbers and how Bailey realized that La Playa was a lot cooler than she thought it was going to be, I realized that I had my moment to interject.
“I’m glad you called me last night and came to spend the night. I think we should try and spend more time together.”
“Seriously?” Bailey looked at me with surprise. “That would be so cool. I am so sick of the shit at school, Paige. Everyone is so fake. It’s all about whose dad knows which celebrity and what kind of car you drive. It has nothing to do with the real world.”
As we drove by the homeless people and their tents set up along the sidewalk, I had to admit I knew exactly what she meant. It was the exact same reason I’d started working at the free clinic. We led such a sheltered life in Verde Hills and I wanted to get out and see what the world was all about.
“You’re right about that, Bailey. But the thing is, sneaking out and getting drunk at parties isn’t the real world either.” She shot me a look and I said, “Look, I get it. Living with Mom is enough to drive anyone to drink. Look at Dad. I’m just trying to help you avoid making my mistakes. There are plenty of ways for you to fuck up on your own. You don’t have to steal mine.”
She grinned and then I did, too. Bailey was a good kid, and she’d done the right thing by calling me to come get her last night. As concerned as I was about her, I knew that underneath it all, she had a good head on her shoulders.
As was typical for LA, we got stuck in traffic on the way up to Verde Hills. By the time we got there, it was past the time Mom and Dad should have been back. The mood in the car was tense as we turned on to our street. I was feeling more like I was the one who’d snuck out instead of the adult that I was.
“Shit. They’re home.” Bailey’s voice sounded panicked. “What are we going to do?”
“I tell you what. I’ll help you out this time and create a diversion, but you owe me a favor, okay?”
“What kind of favor?”
“I don’t know yet. But when I need it, you have to do what I ask, no questions asked.”
She looked back and forth between Dad’s Audi and me. “Okay. Fine. What’s the plan?”
“Paige? What are you doing here?” Mom looked surprised as I let myself in the kitchen door.
I didn’t blame her for being surprised. I lived 25 miles away and wasn’t famous for just “dropping by.”
“Oh, I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d stop by and say hi.” I went over to kiss her on the cheek as she was taking some French bread out of her fabric Farmer’s Market bag.
“Oh! Well. That’s…unexpected. I’m sure your dad and sister will be thrilled to see you.”
As if on cue, Bailey came in from the back sliding glass door. “Oh hi, Paige! What are you doing here?”
Mom turned to look and was momentarily confused as to why Bailey was in the backyard, but then Bailey came and gave her a hug and said, “Is there a family meeting I didn’t know about?”
Mom wrinkled her nose and said, “Have you been working in the garden or something? You smell like old fertilizer.”
I had to stifle a laugh. What she really smelled like was stale beer.
“Who smells like old fertilizer?” Dad said as he came downstairs. “Oh, hi, Paige. What are you doing here?”
Bailey and I gave each other a side glance and I winked at her. Mission accomplished.
Ryder
I’d decided to stop off at the Blue Dog for a cup of coffee and one of their sandwiches for lunch before work. To say the Blue Dog was famous for food would be like saying that Kim Kardashian was famous for boxing. The sandwich was nothing more than a couple of pieces of white bread with some cold cuts they probably bought across the street at Southgate Martinez. Or maybe even brought from home.
But I was avoiding Tiny’s because I didn’t want to run into Paige. I was thinking about her more often than I wanted to already, and that was not good. I needed to stay sharp and not distracted. This stuff with Padre was really concerning, and I wondered if I was the only one who noticed the changes in him. He was never a warm, fuzzy guy, but there was a hardness now that I hadn’t seen before.
A gust of fresh air blew through the place as the door opened. I could recognize the tall, thin frame of Hawk from the shadow he cast into the room. He was one of those “skinny muscle” guys and was built like a martial artist. Long, lean, and fast. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body and he wore his thinning hair back in a long ponytail.
Padre had given him the nickname “Hawk” because he watched over everything and was able to get intel like no one else. He also got the nickname because his nose was big and curved, like a beak.
He saw me as he bellied up to the bar. “Whiskey, neat,” he said to the bartender. Nodding in my direction, he said, “Ryder.”
I grabbed my coffee cup, leaving the sandwich on the table I’d been sitting at, and went up to sit next to him. I was glad that the place was pretty empty because I wanted to pick his brain.
“Hey, Hawk. How’s it going?”
“Pretty good. The old lady went to Pachanga with her sister for a coupla days so I’m batching it.” He raised his glass and said, “Liquid lunch.”
“So, Hawk. Have you noticed anything going on with Padre?”
His eyes narrowed a bit and I could tell that he knew something. “Whaddya mean?”
“Well, for starters, he’s missed a couple times at church.”
“So? Lotsa guys do that.”
“True, but he’s the President. But also, he’s just been acting…I dunno, weird. Working odd hours. Seems distant.”
Hawk didn’t say anything and took a sip of his drink and set it down. There was a minute or so of silence as he was contemplating his response. Then he sighed and said, “Yeah. I noticed.”
Relief washed over me. I didn’t want to say anything about him accusing me of stealing if I didn’t have to. I was just glad to know that I wasn’t the only one who saw changes in Padre. “What do you think is going on?”
“Honestly, it reminds me of my dad before he got diagnosed with Alzheimers. The personality change was our first clue. He was acting kinda paranoid and suspicious.”
That would make a lot of sense. My heart sank at the thought. What if Padre was
having cognitive issues and this wasn’t just some phase?
“Oh!” Hawk said. “I almost forgot. The guy I know over in Las Balas says that Scorpion is almost ready for his initiation. I figured I should let you know, since he’s seeing Lily and all.”
Shit. That was the last thing I needed right now. I shook my head and said, “Thanks, man. Not what I want to hear, but I’m glad you told me.”
Hawk looked me in the eye and his small brown eyes carried a warning. “You need to do something about this, Ryder. I’d hate to see anything bad happen to Lily.”
He was right. It was time to take matters into my own hands.
I finished my lunch and went to the shop for a few hours, but I was distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Hawk had told me about Scorpion. I needed to find that little shit and knock some sense into him, if need be. He needed to step away from my sister immediately.
“Chalupa,” I called to him under the body of a car.
“Wassup, boss?”
“I’m taking off for a bit. You got things around here?”
“No prob. It’s all good.”
That was the thing. We had a loyal group of guys here at Ortega. Even if there were missing parts (which there weren’t—I looked), no one would dare do that to Padre. We all knew what he was capable of. We were a team.
The afternoon sun was right in my face as I aimed my bike to downtown La Playa. Traffic was shit this time of day, so I took side streets. It was the reverse of what I’d done a few days ago… the graffiti and homeless encampments made way to million-dollar homes and art studios. It always shocked me how diverse La Playa was.
Las Balas used an old warehouse down by the pier to have their meetings and store their shit. La Playa had a huge port and commercial where boats and cruise ships would dock, and Las Balas took advantage of that to buy and sell shit illegally from the vessels before the Coast Guard got to them.
