by Hope Stone
Nobody messed with my horses. I ran down to the barn with my breath raised to a frantic pace. Ten paces from the barn, the gravel crunching under my boots, I slowed. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, then I opened the side door to the barn.
I flicked on the light. There in the middle of my fucking barn was a Spanish man who resembled the man the Russians had shot. He had to be from the Las Balas crew. Sweat was dripping off him profusely. I sized him up. He was solid in build, but I could take him. He wore all black from head to toe. Trademark Las Balas. He had slicked back greasy dark hair and an olive-skinned complexion. I could make out the long scar on his neck. He was staggering like he was drunk or on drugs, one of the two.
“You might have gotten my brother, but you didn’t know about me. Your fucking Russians couldn’t catch me.” His Spanish accent was thick, but I made it out and put two and two together, The now dead man wasn’t alone in the field that night. I stilled my breathing and assessed the scene. He’d shot one of the Palominos, and he was crying out.
With nerves of steel, I said to him, “So what are we doing here? You shot my horse, motherfucker.”
He threw his head back and laughed, his rotten teeth gleaming in the barn light.
“I’m a hard one to kill. Don’t you know that? They call me Hosea. You’re lucky I didn’t gut your horse.”
My Palomino was bucking and screaming with wild eyes. I could see him out of my peripheral, and it felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart a million times.
“What do you want?” I gritted through my teeth.
“Your blood in a bottle so I can take it back to my boys.”
I let out a deathly laugh. “That shit ain’t happening.”
I moved sideways and stepped one pace to him. He followed my steps. My muscles flinched, coiled and ready for action. My semi-automatic was loaded, and we were both pointing at one another.
“Put your gun down, and let’s fight fair. Man to man. You’re on my property. Let it be a fight to the death,” I said.
“Okay. You lower your gun, and I’ll lower mine.”
I knew what to do. Sure as the sun shone brightly in the morning. I knew what the hell I was going to do. “Let’s go then. On the count of three. One.”
He brought his gun down slightly. My eyes stayed unblinking, assessing his movements. They were rigid. His reflexes were off, almost like he was on drugs. I had him right where I wanted him.
“Two,” I shouted out, and we lowered even further. The pace of my heart elevated and beats flooded one after the other in my chest. He sniffed. Both of us were wide open. I solidified my feet. “All right, you ready?”
“When you are, motherfucker.”
“Three.” I gritted my teeth, dropping like lightning on one knee, twisting my torso to line up with his feet, and raising my gun. I squinted with one eye, aiming for the ankle. Clear shot.
Bang!
Target hit.
“Son of a bitch!” He crumbled like a house of cards and fell down, lopsided. He rolled around in pain. “You shot me, you piece of shit.”
Amber was standing shellshocked behind me with her mouth covered.
“Stay back!” I yelled. She heard the horse crying as she put the picture together. She fumbled with her phone.
The guy tried to move when he saw her with the phone at the barn door.
“No, you don’t, you piece of shit.” I kicked the gun out of his hand, and it slid across the barn.
“Yes. Roberts Crescent, please hurry. There’s an intruder here. Yes, he has a gun.” Amber was on the phone with the cops.
I kicked the Las Balas gang member in the teeth. I watched as his face ricocheted, and blood shot out of his mouth from the blunt force trauma of my cowboy boot. His face slumped to the ground, and his eyes began to roll.
“Son of a bitch shot my horse,” I murmured. I didn’t dare turn around. I yelled to Amber at the barn door, and she knew not to come any closer to the scene. “Amber, I need you to go to the first aid kit in the house and bring it here. Call my father. The number is on the fridge. Don’t worry, baby.”
“Okay, Colt.” Terror reigned in her voice. I heard the quick pace of her feet. I knew she was running to the house as fast as she could.
A pool of thick blood was running from the man’s ankle. I looked at the wound. I could see the meat of his ankle. I’d shattered it. Served the turd right.
I kicked him in it for good measure. He yelled out like a baby. “Please, spare my life. Don’t kill me.”
“Shut the fuck up!” I spat with anger. “I should have killed you the first time, but you’re going to die a slow and painful death in jail. Oh yeah, because I got some boys that are going to play real nice with you inside. How about that?” I got down close to his ear. “Congratulations, you’re about to become somebody’s bitch.”
It took the cops a whole eight minutes to reach us, and a crew of six cops came into the barn with their guns raised.
“Step back from him, Colt. We got it from here.”
The boys in blue took in the scene, slapping the cuffs on the Spanish guy, but not before bandaging up his leg.
I lowered my gun. Another officer signaled for it. “Hand it over, Colt.”
Limp armed, I handed over the gun to him. He had gloves on and put it into a plastic bag. I guessed for evidence.
“Colt, we need you to come down to the station with us for questioning. The cuffs can go on, or they can stay off. Up to you.”
Amber
My feet were incapable of movement. I saw the flashing lights, I saw the men in blue, but I couldn’t physically move. I found myself staring past everyone. They were blurred out, and my head was whirring.
“Ms. Atwood! We need you to come down to the police station for questioning.”
My eyes were glazed over, and my mouth dry like cotton. I still managed to reply, “Ah, yes, of course, Officer.”
The older officer, ironically, was one that I’d seen in passing. I don’t know why I recognized him out of all the others. I looked across to Colt, and our eyes met. He gave me a rueful look. I’d been happy on the way over, wanting to have a conversation to discuss our future together, but now my life seemed to be ruined. What would they say? Colt could go back to jail. There would be a trial. A rival gang member against another one. I would lose my job. So many thoughts ran rampant through my head. All in one breath, I felt like meeting Colt was a cross to bear. I rode in the back of the cop car, and now I was in the position that many of the men I fought for were in. I let out a breath as we rode silently to the police station for questioning.
We were questioned separately at the Merced police station. I hoped that my calling the police would exonerate Colt and me. My hands were shaking as I was taken in for questioning. All I remembered was this man’s ankle being shattered. I heard the gunfire.
An officer sat across from me with a tape recorder. “Do you understand your rights, ma’am?”
“Yes, I do,” I said solemnly.
The interview process began. The officer sitting across from me was an unassuming, conservative looking man. I waited for him to start.
“Can you tell me your account of what happened, Amber?”
“I was visiting Colt’s house, as we are friends, and he invited me to dinner.” I felt all sides of my face turning red.
“Friends?” The officer looked at the paperwork in front of him. “Isn’t Charlie Winters your client?”
I coughed. “Yes, he is. But his case has been closed for some time, as he has now regained custody over his daughter.” A slight lie, but I hoped it would slide through.
He nodded his head as if he understood. It was just me, him, and the tape recorder. “Were you visiting for dinner while you were taking care of Colt’s case? Just curious.” The conservative brown-haired cop stared at me, watching my movements carefully.
“Yes. I’ve been invited a few times by his mother and his daughter, Bella.”
The offic
er smiled back at me. “Okay, great. I just wanted to gain an understanding of the situation. Please tell me from the beginning what happened in the stable.”
I clasped and unclasped my hands. I took in a deep breath to stop myself from crying.
“Do you need some water? Please, take your time.”
“I was heading to the stable because when I knocked on the door to the main house, Colt wasn’t there, or I didn’t hear that he was there. I headed down to the stables, as I know that he loves his horses. That’s usually where you can find him.”
“Okay. And then what happened?”
“I saw that a man was pointing a gun at Colt, and his horse was crying out.” I saw the image in my mind as I said it. It caused me to break down and cry. The officer handed me a tissue.
“Here you go. It must have been traumatic for you to see that. What happened next?”
“I didn’t know what to do or what was happening. I saw Colt shoot the man in self-defense as the other guy raised his gun to him. He fell to the ground, holding his ankle.”
Again the officer nodded. “Okay. What did Colt say to you when you saw this?”
“He told me to call his father. That his number was on the fridge in the main house. I’d called you guys first.”
“Okay. Where is Bella currently?”
“She was at her grandmother’s house. She was due to come back to her father’s house tonight.”
The officer probed some more. “Do you know the man who shot Colt?”
“No, I do not.”
“Okay. And what happened with the horse? Did you see it being shot? Did you witness anything with the horse at all?”
I cried into my hand. “No. No. Just that it was distressed and trying to kick out of its stable.”
“Okay. Thank you, Amber. That’s enough questioning for now. As you probably know, don’t go anywhere or leave the country. We may need you to verify a few things, depending on the situation.”
“Okay. Can I see Colt?” I asked, knowing what the answer would be.
“Best that you don’t at this point. But once everything is cleared up, you will be able to resume contact.”
I liked the way the officer said that. I didn’t know if he believed me or not. I had no idea what my future with Colt looked like.
The next day, I went to work in a daze. I had no compass, no direction. I didn’t even know if I wanted the promotion that I’d been given. I looked deeply into the eyes of colleagues as I left my stall for lunch. Did they know? Did they hear what happened? The plan I had for Lucy in trying to make her a spokesperson at USP was on hold. I might need a spokesperson, depending on what Colt said. I closed my eyes at my desk, looking at all the positive quotes I had on my wall. I ripped them down in disgust, throwing them in the trash.
“Hey, girl, enjoying your new role?” Lucy came past with her usual spicy comments.
Today, I was full of rage and despair. I turned around and snarled, “Oh, fuck off, Lucy! I’m so tired of your shit. I don’t need any more of your backhanded comments.”
Lucy stopped in shock. She saw the black rings under my eyes from the sleepless night I’d had and my swollen cheeks. I looked like a trainwreck. I hadn’t even brushed my hair. To my surprise, she looked at me in amazement and pity.
“You look like a red-hot mess, Amber. I’ve never seen you like this. Why don’t you take a break with me, and I’ll buy you a coffee?”
I searched her face for a hint of betrayal or falseness. I didn’t see any there. “Okay. But if you start, I will finish it. I’m not in the mood for it, Lucy. I have bigger fish to fry right now.”
“I can see that,” she said plainly.
I picked up my purse to walk with her. “You won’t need it. I told you I’m buying.”
I surrendered and left my bag. I thought about leaving work early, but it would make no difference. I would just sit at home, cry, and wallow in the unfairness of it all.
“Tell me what’s going on. Leave nothing out. You gave me a punch in the gut that I needed. Good for you. I’ve been waiting for you to grow a pair. Finally, you did it. Now, I have a little more respect for you.”
We crossed the multi-lane highway at the lights. Cars zoomed past at varying speeds. There was always traffic on this road.
“What the hell are you talking about? I can’t believe you just said that.”
She laughed off what I said and walked into the coffee shop. There were two small tables outside with umbrellas for people to sit. There were not too many seats because it was just a small coffee shop designed for people to pick up their orders and go. I opted to sit down while she ordered the drinks.
She came back and sat in front of me. She squeezed her hefty figure onto the seat diagonal from me. “Okay, spill, and don’t leave anything out. Otherwise, I can’t help you.” She had on a grim face and was deadly serious.
“How the hell are you going to help me? You don’t even know what’s going on, Lucy!” I yelled at her.
“All right, I’ve given you hell long enough, so I probably deserve you yelling at me, but you don’t have to much longer, so don’t get too worked up.”
Numb to her retorts, I started the story. “I went to see Colt, and his horse was going nuts in the stables. Some gangster from Las Balas had shot it. He had a gun and was waving it at Colt. Colt shot him in the ankle to disable him. When he saw me at the barn door, he told me to call the cops and his father for the horse, I guess.”
Lucy looked me dead in the eye. “Simple case of self-defense. That’s all. They’ll work that out. Who was the officer? I might know him.”
“Lucy, this is coming out of left field. I thought you hated me.”
Lucy gave me a cavalier smile. “The opposite. I’ve always thought you were too soft, but I can see that you’re a fighter. Plus, you secretly like jailbirds. I had that case first, you know…with the cowboy. I sent it your way. I thought you needed some excitement in your drab life.” She winked and laughed. “Never thought you would fall in love with the guy.”
“Are you serious, Lucy? You were playing matchmaker?”
Lucy put her hand over mine. “Yes. I’ve been working with you for a long time. You are too nice, Amber, and you take on too much. I just wanted you to live a little. Now I know you have a lot more strength than I thought you had. I underestimated you.”
I gave her a wry smile. “You know what’s funny is I’ve been trying to get you into the USP prison because you talked about needing more money for your mother’s operation.”
Lucy shook her head and drank her coffee, as did I. “Ah, we are a pair, aren’t we?”
“Yes, we are. I can’t believe you gave me the case.”
Lucy spoke and stood up. “I gave you the case because you were the right one for it. Kids and the prison system are your domain.”
“I can’t believe you. I’ve wanted to wring your neck this whole time.”
Lucy covered her mouth and grinned. “I know. I won’t do it anymore. Just know that I’m on your side. I’m sorry to hear about Colt. It’s all going to be all right. Is he involved with the Las Balas crew? They are a nasty group. I had to handle the domestic violence case with one of their former crew members.”
“I don’t know his involvement with the guy. That’s the problem. He might be guilty.”
“I don’t think he would fuck up an opportunity with you for any reason. He just got out.”
“You know how it is, though. If one small thing happens while you’re on parole, then that’s it.” I demonstrated with my hands being wiped out.
“Trust me, it’s going to work out. You belong with the cowboy. I knew the first time I saw you drop that file.”
Colt
“Colt, you know this doesn’t look good. You are fresh out.” The officer in front of me reiterated what I didn’t want to be true. I was at the Merced police station, sitting in a tiny examination room with a tape recorder and a bottle of water in front of me. Both of my hands we
re in front of me. I was shitting bricks and enraged at the same time.
“I understand, but this fool was on my property, and it was legitimate self-defense. He shot my horse. Can somebody tell me how my horse is doing?” I looked around as if somebody else was in the room. I was losing it a little.
“Nobody is in the room except you and me, Colt. Your horse will be okay, and they will check the bullet. All part of the process. You’re not being accused of anything at this point. I just want you to know the position you’re in looks suspicious.”
I ignored his statement. “Check the bullet in the horse’s leg. Betcha bottom dollar it’s from the sick fuck’s gun.”
The livid rage running in my system had me ready to jump up and smash holes in all the walls. My chances of going back to jail were high in my mind. If Hosea talked, I would be dead meat. That’s if he was the snitching type. On the other hand, the whole Las Balas operation would be blown open, and I’d seen what they did to snitches.
“All right, Colt, let’s start from the top. What happened, and what were you doing in the barn?” The officer sounded tired. He didn’t look like much—slight in build, a faint hint of mustache stubble on his face, and delicate fingers.
“I was in the main house.”
The officer interjected. “What time was this?”
My mind was like scrambled eggs, my shoulders were starting to knot up like boulders from tension, and my hands shook with anger. “I don’t know exactly. Around five or six, I guess. I heard a shot ring out in the barn. I went to see what was going on because my horses started to call out and sound distressed.”
“Okay, so you went to check what was happening. Describe the scene,” the officer said calmly.
“I went in there and heard my horse screaming, and this guy, Hosea, was in there, and said he came to kill me. That I owed him. I don’t owe him shit.”
“Wait. How did you know the guy’s name?”
“Because he told me.”
“Did he tell you why he’d come to kill you?” The officer leaned forward in interest. I might have given him an opening, which I shouldn’t have.
