Run the Risk

by Allison van Diepen

  I went to the bus stop, sitting down on the bench. A familiar car pulled up. My heartbeat faltered. Mateo hadn’t left. He’d been waiting for me this whole time.

  He leaned his elbow out the window. “Congrats.”

  “I didn’t win.”

  His mouth curved up. “So what? You did it.”

  I smiled, and we had a moment. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  I got into the car, and he started to drive. “I was worried you’d go out partying with everybody.”

  “Nah. I was ready to call it a night.” I glanced at him, felt a shiver go through me. I wasn’t ready to anymore.

  It had been more than two weeks since we’d last talked—and done far more than that. We’d hardly said a word to each other since. After we’d gotten so real that night, small talk seemed pointless.

  There was a tight silence. He finally said, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

  “Famous last words.” My insides got all twisted. He was making me hope again, damn him. “You’re not going to ruin my night, are you? Because I’m feeling pretty high right now.”

  He glanced at me, smiling. “You were awesome up there. And no, I’m not going to ruin your night.”

  When we reached my place, he cut the engine and headlights. It was suddenly very dark, and the air in the car was thick. He hesitated, as if he expected me to invite him in. But I had no plan to do that.

  “I made a decision. One you should know about.”

  My breath caught. “Are you leaving the gang?”

  “Yes.”

  I blinked, afraid to believe it. My heart soared. “You’re not kidding.”

  “No.”

  I fought the temptation to hurl myself into his arms. There had to be a catch. “Are they going to jump you out?”

  He shook his head. “I told you, it’s not that type of gang. We don’t hurt each other. I won’t say our leader wasn’t pissed at my decision, but mostly because his girlfriend’s gonna use it as ammo for him to move on too.”

  “Do you want to leave the gang?”

  He let out a breath. “Those are my guys, Grace. In a lot of ways, they saved my life. But I want you more. I can’t lose you again.”

  I chewed my lower lip. “That’s how you feel now, but what about down the line? Are you going to hate me for making you leave them?”

  “You’re not making me leave. You walked away and gave me a chance to figure things out on my own. There’s just one thing. I have to finish what I started. I’m close to finding out the truth about Luke. Once I do, I’m out.”

  “Oh.” I deflated, but not completely. “How long will it be?”

  “I don’t know. Not very long.”

  I sighed. He was wrong about Luke, and if it took a few more weeks to realize it, that was fine with me. I squeezed his hand. “Do what you’ve gotta do.”

  “I will. Now I have to ask. Your poem, the anchors you were talking about . . .”

  “I’m just trying to figure out how I can love someone without it hurting so much.”

  My mom. Dad. Alex. You.

  “I’ll show you how,” he said, his eyes serious. He slid a hand behind my head and pulled me into him.

  We kissed slowly, gently at first, but the need for each other simmered out of control. I broke away. “Tell me the moment you’re out,” I said. “Then we can be together for real.”

  His eyes were hooded with desire, but he nodded.

  BLEEDING HEART

  That boy sure has stinky socks! Good heavens!

  I SMILED AT THE LATEST text from Carol Ann. The lady was a born nurturer, and Alex was her project. Strange how you could get to know someone through texting and email. Ever since Alex had moved in with her, we’d been in touch daily.

  True to her word, she’d been looping me in on the wedding plans. First, she ran the venue by me—the Brookhaven Golf and Country Club—then she sent me color swatches and decor ideas from Pinterest. The process was fun. I could tell it was important for her to build a good relationship with me.

  Dad had been smart to lock it down with Carol Ann. She was Southern Baptist, and I had no doubt she’d made it clear that living in sin didn’t fly with her. I was glad he’d stepped up.

  I texted back:

  You’d better buy some Febreze.

  “Carol Ann is freaking hilarious,” I said to Feenix, scrolling down through our last few texts and handing over my phone.

  Feenix read one.

  Made a cheese and crumb soufflé for Alex and your dad. Golly, those boys can inhale food!

  Feenix looked at me. “Is this lady for real?”

  I nodded.

  She read some more texts, then handed back my phone. “Nice to see the wicked stepmom archetype isn’t true. You’ve got yourself a Betty Crocker.”

  “Yeah.” It was weird to think that eventually I’d be calling Carol Ann my stepmom. That would take some getting used to.

  The late shows had all started, so the concession area was pretty quiet. I noticed Mateo hadn’t been around for the last few minutes, which was odd because he was usually near the main entrance at this time.

  Watching him was my addiction.

  Watching him, knowing it wouldn’t be too long now . . .

  It was hard to stay away from each other, but I was sticking to my guns—we weren’t getting together until he was 100 percent out of the gang. I’d waited four years for him, and I didn’t want anything less than all of him.

  He still drove me home. We talked in the car, laughed together, kissed, but it never went further than that. We were driving each other nuts. Sometimes he texted me in the middle of the night to tell me how much he wanted me.

  The weird part was, I was in no rush. Two weeks had passed since the night of the city finals, and I was actually enjoying our state of limbo. I knew that once Mateo and I took that step, it would be for good. We’d been through our various hells and had come back to each other. Once he left the Destinos, I couldn’t imagine anything that could keep us apart.

  I went to the staff bathroom. On my way out, I thought I heard muffled shouting and scuffling.

  There was a crash, as if a metal shelf had toppled over. Startled, I moved in the direction of the noise, toward the back storage room. Was a robbery going on? I doubted there was much in the storage room worth stealing.

  A gunshot exploded.

  My pulse kicked into overdrive. I ran to the concession area. Mateo wasn’t there. I realized that whatever was happening in the storage room, he was probably in the middle of it.

  What if he’d been shot? What if he was lying on the floor bleeding?

  I turned around and headed down the hallway again. My hand shook as I reached for the door handle of the storage room, hearing the clanks and grunts from inside. There was a gunman in there. I was doing the opposite of what any sane person should do.

  But I needed to know if Mateo needed help.

  I swung open the door and my eyes swept the vast room.

  Chaos. Fighting.

  It took me several seconds to figure out what was happening. Three guys in black masks were beating up two stocky bikers. My brain clued in to what the black masks meant—they must be Destinos.

  Eddie was on the sidelines, holding his right arm, grimacing in pain. His glasses had been knocked off. He spotted me, and a look of relief came over his face. “Grace!” He hobbled toward me.

  Eddie didn’t make it any closer. Mateo came out of nowhere and grabbed him, hauling him away from me. “Don’t get near her.” Mateo turned to me. “According to the guys in the masks, he’s been laundering money for those bikers.”

  Eddie was laundering the money? I stared at Eddie in disbelief. He might not be the most normal guy, but I never would’ve imagined he’d betray Luke. How could Eddie have possibly connected with the bikers?

  I wanted to question Mateo, but I didn’t trust myself to. I knew he was maintaining his cover, pretending not to know who the Destinos were, and I wouldn�
��t do anything to jeopardize that. If the Brothers-in-Arms found out that he was the one behind this . . . I couldn’t bear to think about it.

  Something in Mateo’s hand caught the light, and I looked down. He was holding a gun. “You should go,” he said to me, over the shouts and fighting.

  “But—” I said.

  “Don’t worry, everything’s under control.” Carefully, he unloaded the gun, then tucked it into his waistband, putting the bullets in his pocket.

  I started to move toward the door, unsure of what to do. Eddie was slumped against the wall, moaning. “Grace, wait! You believe me, right? I don’t know those bikers. Never seen them before in my life. I’m getting out of here.” He struggled to get up, but Mateo shoved him back down.

  “You should be helping me, Mateo!” Eddie shouted. “It’s your job!”

  “Shut up. I’m calling the cops.” Mateo took out his phone and dialed 911. He pointed me toward the door, with a soundless out, then started speaking to the dispatcher. “This is the security guard at Cinema 1. We have a fight going on in the storage room at the back of the building. There are three guys in masks—they’re pommeling two bikers. I think the bikers are Brothers-in-Arms based on the arm patches, but I’m no expert. Yeah, one of the bikers had a gun but I got it away from him. I don’t know. Some type of deal was going down. Just get here as fast as you can.”

  Mateo’s eyes were on the fight. The bikers were on the ground now, and the Destinos held them down as they zip-tied their hands. Instead of leaving the storage room, I slipped behind some cluttered metal shelves. I wasn’t going to leave until this was over, until I was sure that Mateo didn’t need me.

  When Mateo got off the phone, Eddie started up again. “Please, you have to believe me! I got a call about a delivery. I came back here to Receiving to sign for it. Then I find myself face-to-face with those Brothers-in-whatever people. They scared the shit out of me! I didn’t know what they were talking about! They just handed me this garbage bag and suddenly I’m getting attacked from all sides by guys in black masks. One of them broke my fucking arm! Go find out who he is so I can press charges!”

  Mateo’s face was grim. “I saw you try to hide the cash. What am I supposed to think?”

  Eddie opened his mouth again to argue, but Mateo’s icy look shut him down. “Don’t even bother. I’m calling Luke—he went out for a few minutes, but should be back any second.” Mateo made the call. “You’d better get to the storage room right away. You’ll see when you get here.” He looked at Eddie. “Luke’s in the parking lot. He’ll be here in a minute.”

  Sweat dripped off Eddie’s face. I could smell his desperation. “Luke’ll believe me. He knows I’d never do what they’re saying . . . it’s total bullshit. Why would I launder money for a group of thugs? They’re a menace to society, those people. I saw a documentary on them last—”

  Eddie was still talking when Luke arrived.

  Luke’s eyes widened. “What the fuck?”

  I could only imagine what Luke was thinking as he took in this scene. He saw the Destinos holding down the bikers. Saw the garbage bag open on the floor, rolls of cash spilling out. He saw Eddie, sweaty and pathetic.

  Luke turned to Mateo, bewildered. “You gonna fill me in?”

  Mateo was about to speak when one of the Destinos jogged over. A blue-eyed guy in a mask. I knew right away he was the guy who’d been at the hospital after Alex was hurt.

  “Your employee here—” the Destino said, pointing down to Eddie, “has been laundering money through your business for the Brothers-in-Arms.”

  Mateo added, “I saw Eddie trying to hide the bag of cash.”

  “Sorry, can’t stay,” the Destino said. He and the two others ran out through the back door.

  Stunned, Luke turned to Eddie.

  “They’ve got it all backward,” Eddie said. “I wasn’t trying to hide any money. I don’t even know who those biker people are! I have no clue what’s—”

  Luke cut him off. “Bull. Shit. After all I did for you!”

  I’d seen Luke mad plenty of times, but never like this. The fury in his eyes was frightening. The person who’d helped him run his business, the person he’d taken under his wing, had betrayed him. I saw Mateo put a hand on his arm, as if afraid Luke would attack Eddie.

  But Luke didn’t move. He just stared at him.

  That’s when the cops came to break up the party.

  Later that night, Mateo and I sprawled on the couch. I had no intention of letting go of him. The sound of that gunshot echoed through my head, making me squeeze him tighter.

  “Turns out I was right—Luke’s not guilty after all,” I said, lifting my head from his chest. “If that sounds like I told you so, it is.”

  He smirked. “Yeah, you told me so. Maybe those instincts of yours are trustworthy after all. Who knew?”

  I smacked his arm. “You should’ve listened to me.”

  “Believe it or not, I did.” He sobered. “Luke was the obvious suspect, but you got me wondering if there was anyone else with enough access to do it. The only person was Eddie. So I started watching him closely. Turned out that sometimes, when Luke wasn’t around, he’d meet a couple of the Brothers at the back door to take in the cash. He’d add it to the daily numbers, launder it using two accounts under the theater’s name, then cut checks to the Brothers through an offshore account.”

  I flashed back to Eddie stumbling toward me. He looked so desperate. “An offshore account? That sounds pretty sophisticated. I can’t believe he pulled it off.”

  “We all know Eddie’s a smart guy. But not smart enough to stay away from cocaine.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “Eddie’s an addict. He hides it well. Luke knows but has always tried to help him. Once I found out about the coke problem, it all started to make sense. Eddie must’ve been getting his coke from the Brothers-in-Arms. He probably owed them more money than he could ever pay, and they used that to force him to launder their money through the theater.”

  I felt sad for Eddie. It was one thing to commit a crime out of greed, but another to do it because you’re trapped.

  “The cops have been building a case against the Brothers-in-Arms for years,” he said. “Eddie could help them get their convictions. He just has to cooperate.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “Then he’ll go to prison. If that happens, my guess is the Brothers will have him killed. He’s too much of a wild card for them to do anything else. Eddie’s only real choice is to testify against the Brothers and get the hell out of town. If he’s lucky, the cops might give him a protection deal.”

  “You mean witness protection?”

  “Yeah. He’ll have a chance to start over. He’d be smart to take it.” Mateo looked at me. “Eddie probably thinks his life is over, but it doesn’t have to be. He can avoid prison and move on. It’s not like he murdered someone.”

  He was silent for a while, and I knew he was thinking about his brother.

  “Maybe you should write to him,” I said. “To Mig, I mean. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

  “Don’t I? If I write to him, it’ll feel like . . . like I’m letting him back in. I’m not sure I can do that.”

  “Because he might hurt you again.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever forgive him?”

  He sighed. “Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself—that’s what they say, right? It’s about letting go of the anger? Well, I’m not there yet. Don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

  “I don’t think you need to forgive him to write him a letter.”

  He exhaled. “I wish I could do it for my mom. It would make her happy.” Warmth entered his eyes. “I’m starting to wonder if your bleeding heart is contagious.”

  I placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. “I’m sorry to say, yours is just as bleeding.”

  Mateo had joined the Destinos because he wanted to help peopl
e and had become a paramedic for the same reason. Despite everything he’d been through, Mateo had never lost the kindness that made me fall for him in the first place.

  “Your investigation is over,” I said. “It’s in the cops’ hands now. So that means you’re out of the gang, right?”

  “Yeah.” He wrapped his arms around me. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited to be with you. I don’t think I could get through one more day without you.”

  “You won’t have to.” I grabbed his hair and kissed him, gently biting his bottom lip. “Your ass is mine, Lopez.”

  He laughed. “Everything I have is yours.”

  I smiled against his mouth. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  It occurred to me that maybe it made sense after all—life, that is, the wonder and the suckage. Maybe we all find our way to where we need to be. I was sure there was a poem in there somewhere. But I’d have to write it another time.

  FIREBALL

  TEN DAYS LATER, I STOOD in my bedroom, excitement pumping through me.

  One hour and forty-seven minutes until Pitbull.

  I double-checked my purse for the tickets and backstage passes.

  Nervousness shot through me. Would I actually get to meet him? Would I be able to speak without getting tongue-tied?

  The doorbell rang. I went downstairs and looked through the peephole. With a gasp, I opened the door.

  Alex stood there with a crooked smile and a backpack slung over his shoulder. “Hey, Grace.”

  I yanked him inside, throwing my arms around him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I thought it would be cool to surprise you. There was a seat sale on JetBlue. So here I am.”

  “This is awesome! How long are you staying?”

  “About that. Hang on, I’m starving.” Alex dropped his backpack, washed his hands in the kitchen sink, then grabbed a bag of chips from the cupboard. “I’m just here a couple of days to pack up my stuff,” he said between chips. “I’ve decided to stay in Atlanta. It’s really—” He stopped crunching. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”