Embittered Ruby (20 page)

Carmen turned her back on her crying mother and stormed into her bedroom. She shoved as much as she could fit into her backpack and purse. Tied her favorite sweatshirts around her waist, grabbed her phone charger and hair dryer, and left. Carmen would have to call Harper and Kimberley when Mom was out later.

She jogged down the stairs and turned toward the bus stop, tears raining onto the sidewalk below her feet. Why did it have to be so difficult? She only wanted a good life. Why was that such a bad thing?

Hard to believe Mom never asked why this was all happening. It never crossed her mind Carmen might be pregnant or that there might be some reason other than general unhappiness? Would knowing the whole truth have changed things? Maybe Carmen should have led with the whole story. Would things have turned out differently if she had?

She leaned against the lamppost to wait for the right bus to show up.

Mom would come around. She had to. It had been just too big of a shock for her to deal with so quickly. Too much to process. It probably wasn’t fair of Carmen to throw it at her and expect her to adapt within the space of a few minutes. Mom didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. But what was Carmen to do? She had to think about herself…her new life…Nate…the baby.

Carmen shrieked as a hand gripped her elbow. She felt hot breath on her neck.

“Does your boyfriend know you’re out alone at night?” a voice growled just inches from her ear. “Big mistake, chica. Big mistake.”

M
arco flashed a sinister grin full of silver teeth.

Why hadn’t she listened to Diego and been more careful? Her last night in Hackensack and she was going to get murdered on the street. Or worse. So close to freedom, yet so far away.

Who knew where she was? Mom and Nate. Mom wouldn’t be calling Nate tonight—that much Carmen knew for sure. Nate wouldn’t know Carmen was missing until sometime after ten o’clock when the train would arrive at the station and she wouldn’t be on it.

Another glint of silver sparked the space in front of Carmen’s face. This time from Marco’s hand. In a whoosh, she felt something cold press against the front of her neck as he spun her around. Did Marco have a real knife against her throat? He couldn’t be serious.

“Just start walking. Turn right at the corner.”

She started to move, numb from head to toe. Was she in shock? How was it that she was being dragged through the streets of New Jersey, pregnant, with a gang leader’s knife pressed to her throat? What a far cry from her old life.

“Marco. What are you doing? Don’t be dumb.” Carmen wriggled and tried to pull herself free. She clawed at the dragon tattoo on his forearm. If only she could reach his face with her fingers.

A sharp lash stung her throat. The knife! Was she bleeding? It didn’t feel deep, but how could she know without actually seeing it? Her heart thundered in her chest. This might be her last night alive. There was still so much she wanted to do with her life. Marry Nate. Have their baby. Maybe buy a house.

“Don’t you be an idiot, chica. Wake up and realize I’m in charge. Diego is nowhere to be found. Tonight you’re mine.” Marco laughed.

Think, Carmen. Be smart
. Wasn’t Marco afraid of Diego? “But tomorrow Diego will come after you. Why would you want to make him mad?”

“Why do I want to make him mad? So he’ll come after me, stupid. Hopefully tonight…tomorrow might be too late for you.” Marco shoved her forward. “Get in there.”

Carmen stumbled toward the doorway of an abandoned building. “What are you going to do to me?” Every horror film she’d ever seen came rushing into Carmen’s consciousness. Why had she watched those stupid slasher movies with Dad? Her heart was about to pound out of her chest.

“Just get in there.” He kicked at the back of her legs.

Carmen fell forward through the doorway onto her face. Pain shot through her nose and radiated into the back of her head.

“Well, well. Whatchu got there, Marco?”

Oh no. José. He was worse than Marco, and he always had a gun on him. And when José was around, Shooter was never far away—judging by his name, he’d have a gun, too. If only she could see. Carmen lifted her cheek from the cool concrete and squinted against the darkness.

A match struck across the cavernous space, and when the flame met the cigarette, Carmen spied Shooter’s glowing eyes staring down at her.

A light came on in a room somewhere behind her. At least she could make out shadows and enough of their faces to know who was who and where they were. Except, who was back there? Who turned the light on?

“If you guys let me go, I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
God, please
.

“You think that’s some sort of prize? Your silence?” Marco laughed. “You still don’t know how this works, do you? Let me spell it out crystal clear for you.” He flicked his cigarette to the ground and smashed it into the dirty warehouse floor. “Here’s the simple version even you can understand. Diego, he our enemy. We want to fight him. I hear you’re having his baby.”

What? Where had he heard about the baby? How had word gotten around? She’d told no one in Jersey. Not even her own family. How could she convince him it wasn’t true? “I’m not—”

“Save it, sister.” José high-fived Shooter.

“You having his baby. So we get to you; we get to him. It’s simple.”

But Carmen couldn’t stand not knowing. How had they found out she was pregnant? Naturally they assumed it was Diego’s, but no one knew. Diego didn’t even know.

There had to be a way out of this mess. Carmen searched the space for something, anything. She couldn’t fight off three guys. Especially when one had a knife to her throat and at least one of the others had a gun. And there was some unidentified presence elsewhere on the premises. What would they do to her? What would they do to her baby? Shame it took the gravest situation possible for Carmen to feel the first inklings of maternal feelings toward the life inside her. She wanted nothing more than to protect her baby, but the situation looked grim.

God, please help me out of this mess
.

José shoved Carmen into a rickety chair. “Sit there and don’t get any crazy ideas.”

She waited for a rope to appear around her body or her wrists, but none came. At least they hadn’t killed her right off. Every moment she kept it together was another chance of getting out of there alive.

A cell phone rang. “Where is he?” Marco’s voice growled into the dim room. “Let me know when he’s two minutes away.”

Silence.

They waited. For what? Who else was coming? Carmen squinted. If only she could see through the dark better.

Minutes that felt like hours passed.

“He’s here, Marco.” José laughed. “He’s got company.”

“Figured as much. You be lookout at the window. Shooter, you watch the door. I’m going out.”

Carmen strained to hear.

“Well, if it isn’t my old pal Diego. Whachu comin’ ‘round here for?”

Should Carmen yell to let him know she was in here? If she didn’t tell him, how would he know?

“You got my girl in there? You tell me.”

Oh, Diego already knew. Of course. Dangling her safety was how they got him here. Carmen’s deceptions had put another life at risk.

God…

No, praying was silly. No one was up there to hear the prayers, but if there were some deity, some creator of the universe, He’d never waste time with her. She’d already blown it, big-time. But it wasn’t fair that so many other people would go down because of her. He should save Diego at least. And the baby.
Please, God, save the baby
.

“I want yo money and power.”

“Why’d you think Diego could give you either?”

“You been made in the deal that went down yesterday. I want the cash. And, as for power, you just need to make it known. La chica is my girl.”

“Ain’t happenin’.”

“Oh? Has Diego gone soft on a girl? First time for everything.”

“You don’t want her. She too backpack for you.”

“Sayin’ it like a true baby daddy.”

“I’m not a baby da—put the gun away, Marco.”

“Nah. I’m about up to the rims with you. I think it’s time we say good-bye.”

Bang!

Bang!

“Marco got plugged. Get out there, Shooter.”

“They both down.” José crouched at the window and clicked something on his gun. “Let’s go. Diego gots two more gunners out there.”

Shooter and José crept through the door, staying low to the ground. Had they forgotten about her, or did they expect her to stay put? Not happening. She had to move while she had the chance. But who was that person who’d turned the light on earlier? Would she come face-to-face with her worst nightmare the minute she stepped outside? A risk she had to take.

Her heart pounded so loud, she was surprised they didn’t hear it and come running back to secure their prize. She crossed the warehouse floor and made it to the back door, away from the action outside. Through the door and into the fresh air. No problem.

Run
. She ran and ran as far away from there as she could get. Her backpack bounced against her lower back as her legs pumped like pistons.

Move, legs. Move
. Carmen’s thighs burned, and her lungs were about to explode. She couldn’t run another step if her life depended on it. Oh, it did, actually.
Keep going. Keep going
.

She looked back down the street. The deserted warehouse was now a dot in the distance. No one had followed her—that she knew of anyway. She’d never claim to have the best street smarts. She spied a pay phone hanging from the brick wall of the drug store.
Please work
. She didn’t want to call from her cell, which they could easily trace.

“911. What’s your emergency?” a cheery female voice answered the phone.

“I need to report a gunshot. The victim is injured—I think unconscious.” Carmen gasped for air.

“What’s the address?”

Breathe, Carmen
. She gave the street name and an approximation of the building number.
Breathe
.

“Your name?”

“Um…this is an anonymous call.” Would they take the info and act on it if Carmen didn’t say who she was?

The sigh came through the phone wires. “Fine. Care to share any more information?”

“There are other men there; some have guns. I saw at least three guns. But there might be a fourth.” Would she ever find out who the secret man was in the back?

“Anything else?”

“Only that you should hurry.” Carmen hung up the pay phone and hurried into the night without looking back.

Carmen took deep breaths and let them out slowly, trying to calm the trembling reverberating deep in her bones. The train squealed to a stop, and the doors slid open at Grand Central Station. She lifted her bag and made her way to the station platform. How would she ever pull off keeping Nate unaware of the night’s events? She should just tell him what happened.

No. If she did, he’d make her talk to the police. She’d have to go back there. She’d have to see those people. Carmen would be in the news. And Hillary would find out about what happened. Nope. Way better to leave it all behind and move on with her new life. But if that was how she was going to play it, she’d better pull herself together.

Carmen weaved her way through the maze of travelers and Salvation Army Santas ringing their holiday bells. They started earlier and earlier every year it seemed. Here they were, still more than a week from Thanksgiving, and they were at it already. Santa hats and all.

Finally she had to maneuver past a street band with an open guitar case sprinkled with coins before she could step into the restroom. She splashed some cool water onto her face and gazed into the mirror.

Who was that person? Virtually unrecognizable, inside and out.

Out in the main corridor, Carmen checked the arrival and departure displays. Twenty minutes until the train for Ossining. She should call the hospital to find out about Diego while she waited. But would they tell her anything if she didn’t give her name? They probably wouldn’t talk to her even if she did tell them who she was because she wasn’t family. And what if they had a way to trace the call? She wanted nothing to do with this situation.

Diego had risked his life—maybe given it—for her, and she abandoned him. Just walked away like nothing had happened. But what could she have done? If she’d stayed, she’d probably have been shot, or worse. Plus, the last thing she wanted was to be on the evening news somehow connected to those gangs. Hillary would have loved it, and it just might have pushed Nate over the edge, too. This way Carmen could just move on. Maybe she’d be able to visit Diego in a few days—if he were alive. If she thought she wouldn’t get caught.

Her train squealed into the station, and the doors opened. She climbed in and settled in a seat. Head back on the headrest, Carmen closed her eyes and begged for sleep to come. Anything to forget.

Bang. Bang. Bang
. The sound of the gunshots replayed in her mind over and over. Who shot whom first? It had sounded like Diego had taken the first bullet. But there was no way to tell. She’d probably find out on the news later that night.