Rough Around the Edges (36 page)

BOOK: Rough Around the Edges
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“They probably thought they could get us to come after them mad, to go after them into their territory where they could take us down. But it’s all a fucking joke because it’s all our fucking territory and they’re going to die for stepping foot on it, just like they deserve.”

“Yeah.” Ryan couldn’t give a shit less about whatever streets Manny thought he owned, but he was right about one thing – the men who’d shot Ally deserved to die. “So where are we going?”

“First, to see Carlos. I need to find out what’s going on – everything that’s happened since Ally was shot.”

“You don’t already know?”

“I had to buy flowers for Ally, and then make the trip to the hospital. A lot can happen in a couple hours. Hell, a lot can happen in a couple seconds.” He looked away from the street to shoot Ryan a pointed glance.

The contents of Ryan’s stomach curdled, as bitter as the mustard he’d put on the only meal he’d had that day. Yeah, a lot could happen in a few seconds. Lives could change and end, snuffed out forever. Maybe seeing Carlos wasn’t a terrible idea. An informed plan would be the best plan. “Are you going to tell me who these people are? The ones we’re going after, I mean.”

“They’re nobody. Just some idiots who thought they could get away with selling to our buyers, on our streets. All this shit started a couple months ago. They’ve been targeting our buyers, trying to undercut our prices. They think a few guns and some drugs make them a gang to rival ours.” As Manny guided the car around another street corner, his knuckles were as white as Ally’s face had been before the blood transfusion.

“They’re about to find out who they’re dealing with. We’ve hit them where it hurts a couple times, but nothing like the shit storm Carlos is about to unleash on them. There are less of them than there are us, and after we wipe them off the face of the planet, nobody will even remember the stupid fucking name they gave themselves. We should’ve done it weeks ago.” His lips turned down, breaking their usual hard line and hinting at a frown.

If Manny’s behavior so far was any indication, it was probably the closest thing to regret he’d ever openly express.

“Good to know that they’re small,” Ryan said. “I like the idea of them being wiped off the face of the planet.”

Manny nodded as he slowed the car, pulling up to the curb in front of a small brick house. “Wait here.”

Ryan placed a hand on the door handle, prepared to step out. “Is this Carlos’ place?”

“Yeah. But wait here. I’ll go in and talk to him.”

“No. I’m not waiting in the car.” If he was going to risk his life alongside Manny, he was going to see Carlos alongside Manny, too.

“Yeah, you are. You can’t just walk in there. You see that house – it’s the casa de ladrillos Casa de Ladrillos was named for. And you don’t go in there if you’re not Casa de Ladrillos.”

“I’m helping Casa de Ladrillos get what Casa de Ladrillos wants, so why the hell shouldn’t I come inside?”

“You don’t give a shit about Casa de Ladrillos.”

“That’s not the point. I’m not gonna wait in the car like a dog while you make plans without me.”

“You don’t even speak Spanish. The plans will go right over your head.”

“Speak English, then.”

“It’s our house – we’ll speak whatever language we want.”

Resisting the urge to punch Manny square in his frowning face was one of the hardest things Ryan had ever done.

“You know what? You’re just as fucking stubborn as Ally,” Manny said with no trace of amusement in his voice. “You can come in, but don’t start any shit. I promise you’ll regret it if you do. Just keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking.”

Ryan stepped out of the car without a word, and they approached the house the same way.

The greeting issued to them through the front door was definitely English. “What the fuck?” a man asked, glaring through a door he’d cracked open about three inches. All that was visible was one dark eye and the unmistakable glint of streetlight on gunmetal.

Manny replied in Spanish, and that was when Ryan stopped understanding a word anyone said. Still, he could tell a lot from the tone of their voices, and as he stood on the doorstep, it was obvious he wasn’t welcome.

They were eventually admitted anyway, after Manny ripped the guy at the door a new one, which presumably worked because he was second in command, Carlos’ right hand man.

Manny led Ryan into the center of the house, where a man sat at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette. He was obviously Carlos – the air of authority surrounding him was just as thick as the putrid fog, and the Rivera family traits were visible. He had Manny’s thick, dark brows, and disconcertingly familiar brown eyes gleamed from behind a screen of smoke. They settled on Ryan as Carlos snuffed his cigarette out in an ash tray that rested in the center of the table.

The conversation that followed between Carlos and Manny was markedly calmer than the one Manny had had with the man at the door. Still, there were steely notes in Carlos’ voice that gave his words a much more dangerous edge than any amount of profanity or yelling possibly could have. As he discussed something – Ryan, presumably – with Manny, the three men standing behind him glared at Ryan like they wanted to end him.

Maybe they did, but it didn’t matter. Manny wanted Ryan’s help and Carlos was mad – they were all mad over what had happened. And whatever else Manny and Carlos were, they seemed smart enough to let Ryan risk his life for something they wanted instead of killing him then and there – an act that would help no one.

Ryan listened for words he could understand, but caught little besides Ally’s name, which was spoken a couple times. Each time he heard it, his heart skipped a beat as he pictured her lying in a hospital bed, her face as white as her bandages. She had to be sick with worry, but what he was putting her through would be worth it, in the end.

She’d be able to rest knowing that the men who’d tried to murder her weren’t still lurking in her neighborhood. As for the dangers that would remain thanks to her family’s gang involvement … he’d think of a way to protect her in the long-term after he worried about the immediate danger threatening her and Maria. First and foremost, he had to make sure her would-be killers wouldn’t be waiting for her when she was released from the hospital.

Though he hardly understood any Spanish, even Ryan was able to detect the change in atmosphere that occurred when Carlos said something of apparent significance to Manny.

For the first time Ryan had ever witnessed, Manny let his shoulders slump out of their usual rigid posture. The change in the way he held himself made him look deflated. His brows rose high and then plunged deep as he asked Carlos a question.

Whatever Carlos said in reply seemed to take the edge off Manny’s agitation, but he still looked preoccupied by the time he finished his conversation with Carlos and motioned to Ryan. “Vámanos,” he said, his shoulders thrown back in their usual position again.

Manny’s discontent surrounded him like a fog, evident in the way he walked and even breathed as he and Ryan returned to the car.

“You going to fill me in on what was said in there?” Ryan asked as he pulled his door shut.

Manny shoved his key into the ignition and turned it. “Two of the three guys who were in that car when Ally was shot are already dead. Carlos killed them – a few hours after the first shooting, a car full of guys targeted his house. Sprayed it with bullets, but no one was hit. Carlos and some others went after them. Found several guys still in the same car, driving down one of our streets like they owned it. Two of them had been in the car when Ally was shot, too. Carlos took them all out.”

“Good.”

“Carlos killed them,” Manny repeated, meeting Ryan’s eyes. “I was supposed to do that.”

“Does it really matter who’s responsible as long as they can’t hurt Ally or Maria again?”

“Fuck yeah, it matters. They shot my sister – they tried to kill her and my mother. I’m family. I should’ve been the one to make them pay.”

“Carlos is related to them, too.” Why would the fact that Carlos’ relation to Ally and Maria was an unfortunate technicality as far as they were concerned bother Manny, who apparently held Carlos in high esteem?

Manny shook his head. “It’s not the same. He doesn’t care about them like I do. He’s pissed because someone dared to disrespect him enough to gun down a blood relation. I’m pissed because someone hurt Ally. They could’ve killed her and my mother.”

The sentiment was pretty damn hypocritical considering the fact that it was Manny’s fault the rival start-up gang had been drawn to Ally and Maria in the first place, but Ryan bit his tongue. Now was not the time, but the time would come – later. “What was it Carlos said to you just before we left? You looked like you were about to have an aneurysm, then he said something that cooled you down.”

Manny stared straight ahead as he guided the car away from the curb and down the street. “Those two guys – he said he made them suffer before he let them die.”

 

* * * * *

 

The gun Ryan had tucked into the waistband of his jeans wasn’t cold anymore; it had been there so long that the steel was the same temperature as his body. The hard press of the weapon was an uncomfortable reminder that the clock was ticking, each minute another one that he had nothing to show for.

He shifted against the passenger seat, but the Smith & Wesson Manny had lent him only dug harder into his spine. The back waistband of his jeans was a stupid fucking place to carry a gun, but he had no holster – no other place to conceal it, really.

“This might be the one. Be ready.” Manny was already slowing the car as they approached an aged warehouse with several broken windows.

Ryan said nothing. Manny had said the same thing at their past half a dozen stops, all of which had been at places members of the rival gang were known to frequent. They’d all been empty of anyone affiliated with the group responsible for Ally’s injuries – obviously, the guilty parties knew they were being hunted.

They climbed out of the car together. Approaching the building had a steady stream of adrenaline rippling through Ryan’s veins – Manny was right, it might be the one – but it wasn’t a totally unfamiliar task. After all, he wasn’t a stranger to urban warfare. It had been a part of his life in Afghanistan. The bitter taste in his mouth, the heightened senses and the way his muscles ached with readiness – he had to suppress memories in order to focus on the present.

Manny, on the other hand, knew the streets but had no such training. He hadn’t taken it well when Ryan had told him hours ago that swaggering up to their target buildings like a rooster was a bad idea. Still, Ryan had persuaded him to listen to some basic pointers. They were nothing like a competent tactical team as they approached the building together, but Manny made an effort to improve and it showed, if only a little.

Nothing came of it. The building was easily accessible through an unlocked back door, but empty.

Manny cursed in Spanish as they abandoned the place after a quick inspection. “Hiding. He’s fucking hiding – they’re all fucking hiding.”

“Did you really expect anything else from a group of men who targeted a couple of innocent women?”

Manny said nothing, just strutted like an angry rooster as they returned to the car.

A cold wind whistled down the street, whipping straight through Ryan’s jacket as it sent several pieces of trash skittering by.

“My place isn’t far from here,” Manny said once he was behind the wheel again. “Let’s stop there for a minute. I’m gonna fucking die of thirst if I don’t get something to drink, and I need to call Carlos for an update. Maybe I can get in touch. Maybe he knows something we don’t.”

Hopefully. What he and Manny knew could be summed up in two words: almost nothing. They knew what the person they were looking for looked like – he was the man who’d ran after watching Manny kill his companion with a knife – and what his name was. And they knew places where he’d been seen before. That was it. They’d spent the entire night looking for him, and the morning had dawned cold and bright on their ongoing search. It was a lot like looking for a needle in a haystack.

A double-pang of guilt and urgency sailed through Ryan as he thought of how long he’d been gone. He’d left the hospital the evening before, and it was already early afternoon. It hurt to think of Ally waiting and worrying for so long, especially when there was no knowing how much longer she’d have to wait before he could return.

BOOK: Rough Around the Edges
5.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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