Run the Risk Read online

  “They won’t. Your dad wouldn’t be listed at his girlfriend’s address. He doesn’t have a Facebook page or anything that would connect him to her.”

  It sounded like Mateo had thought this through. He must’ve known this could happen.

  “None of the Locos know your dad’s girlfriend’s last name, right?” Mateo asked.

  “Right,” Alex said. “I don’t even know it. I never talked about Dad or Carol Ann to them.”

  “It’s Watkins,” I said, looking down at my phone. There were a dozen “C. Watkins” in Atlanta. I knew she lived in the suburb of Brookhaven, so I decided to Google Maps each address to see if one fit.

  “The Locos aren’t super sly,” Mateo said. “They don’t have the brains or resources to find you. We just have to get you out of town until the smoke clears.”

  But would it clear? Would Alex ever be safe in Miami? I wouldn’t ask, though. Not now.

  “How’d you know they were coming after me?” Alex asked, hugging himself in the backseat. Funny how fear made you cold. The AC wasn’t even on, but I was covered in goose bumps.

  “Word on the street,” Mateo said.

  “Bullshit,” Alex said. “There is a snitch in the Locos, isn’t there? That’s how you knew they were coming for me. Must be the same person who ratted out the shipment. I guess he told you they were coming after me tonight.”

  I shot Alex a look. “Let it go.”

  “Who’s the snitch? I really want to know.”

  “You know I can’t tell you.” He glared in the rearview mirror. “Don’t even think about telling Animale there’s a snitch.”

  Alex looked offended. “I wouldn’t rat somebody out to save my own skin.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Mateo said. “I swear to God, you’d better keep your mouth shut. I’m not helping you just to get my friend killed. If it weren’t for him, you could be dead right now. Remember that.”

  “I’d never give up the snitch,” Alex said. “Even if I knew his name. Which I don’t.”

  Mateo gave him a fierce look in the rearview mirror. “And you never will.”

  At three thirty a.m., we stopped at the Blue Pine Motel off the interstate.

  I’d found Carol Ann’s address an hour ago—she was the only C. Watkins with a Brookhaven address. If I was wrong, well, we’d wait in Brookhaven until we heard from Dad.

  I was glad Mateo was taking a break to sleep. It wasn’t safe for him to drive all night. Besides, it was clear we weren’t being followed. The Locos would have no idea where we’d gone.

  The door chimed as we walked in. The fat guy at the front desk was watching something intently on his laptop. He slapped it shut.

  “A room please,” Mateo said.

  “Seventy-two eighty.”

  Mateo paid in cash while I dug into my handbag. “Save it,” he said. “We might need it tomorrow.”

  “Do you have any toiletries?” I asked the guy behind the desk.

  He gave me a flat look. “There’s shampoo and soap in the room. That’s all.”

  I expected the room to gross me out, but it wasn’t bad, despite the dated floral decor. There was a double bed, a TV, and a couch. I threw back the blanket, not spotting any bugs.

  “I gotta go.” Alex hurried to the bathroom.

  “I’ll take the couch,” Mateo said, smothering a yawn. In the background, we could hear Alex peeing up a storm.

  “No way,” I said. “You’re twice the size of the couch. Plus, you’re driving. You’re the one who has to be alert, not us. I’ll take that couch.”

  “No, I will,” Alex said, emerging from the bathroom. He grabbed a blanket from the closet and stretched out on the couch. “I ain’t sleeping next to a dude.”

  “Your loss,” Mateo said, a twinkle in his tired eyes.

  I took my turn in the bathroom, wishing I at least had a toothbrush. When I came out, the lights were off, and Alex was curled up on the couch.

  I didn’t see how I was going to fall asleep beside Mateo. He was lying there, shirt off, the covers tucked under his arms. In the predawn gray, his skin looked dark and swarthy against the white sheets. For the first time, I saw the full tattoo on his shoulder, a cursive R—the Los Reyes tattoo. After what that gang had done to him, it must be horrible to still be inked with their symbol.

  As I slid under the covers, I noticed that he’d kept his jeans on. Probably uncomfortable, but out of respect for me. I peeled off my cardigan and threw it on a chair—I’d sleep in my leggings and T-shirt. I smelled a bit sweaty. Not surprising, since I hadn’t had the chance to shower before we fled for our lives.

  “I haven’t slept in a day and a half,” he muttered.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  My heart sighed. I wanted to touch him, even just to brush a bit of curling dark hair from his eyes. But I wouldn’t touch him, of course. I barricaded myself with covers.

  I only wished I could barricade my heart. We couldn’t ever be together, and his coming to our rescue tonight wouldn’t change that. But I still wanted him with a passion that made me ache inside. I didn’t know how to stop it.

  His eyes were closing, but I wished he would open them and look at me. His face was a bit smooshed against the pillow, scarred side up. I wanted to trace it with my fingers, to love the dark, painful side of him. I wished I could understand why he had to join a gang after he’d lost so much to another one.

  “You put yourself on the line for us again,” I whispered. “I owe you.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled.

  “I hope you know how much we appreciate—”

  He suddenly grabbed me and pulled me against him. I reeled in shock. I thought he was half-asleep, drifting into dreamland. Clearly, I was wrong.

  His lips hovered over mine, and my mouth opened in surprise. He took the opportunity to brush his lips against mine. I felt my insides liquefy.

  “My brother—”

  “Is snoring like a fiend.”

  It was true. Beyond the sounds of our breaths, I could hear him snoring. Mateo rolled on top of me, his big body covering mine. Heat flooded through me.

  “As if I could sleep next to you,” he whispered in my ear.

  We kissed. Slowly, breathlessly, deeply, only breaking apart to breathe. I told myself this was a bad idea—that we were only torturing ourselves. But I kissed him back with an intensity I couldn’t control. An electric current shot through my blood, threatening to cut off power to my brain.

  A kiss wouldn’t bridge the gulf between us. It wouldn’t heal the broken trust or bring us back together. And yet it felt so damned good. Why not enjoy what was probably my last chance to feel his lips on mine?

  I’d already lost him, I told myself. So there was nothing to lose.

  His kiss was deep, hungry. Our bodies were hot liquid metal ready to fuse. But we didn’t do more than kiss. I couldn’t, not with my brother a few feet away. But if he hadn’t been there? Would I have been able to resist doing more?

  The things Mateo was whispering in my ear were killing me. “Do you know how much I want you? How long I’ve wanted you?”

  I said nothing back. He could tell how much I wanted him. I was kissing him so intensely I kept forgetting to breathe. But he didn’t need to know that I was still in love with him—that I’d never fallen out of love, as much as I’d tried. I had to keep that part of me safe, secret.

  I didn’t know how long we kissed in the darkness, straining against each other, breathing each other’s breath. Eventually he rolled onto his back. “Cold shower,” he said, then went into the bathroom. Seconds later, I heard the shower running.

  I huddled under the covers, burying my feelings deep inside me.

  When he came back a few minutes later, my back was to him, and I pretended to sleep. I felt him gently stroke my hair, then I heard the slow rhythm of his breathing.

  I woke up five minutes later. At least, that’s what it felt like. I’d b
een awake for ages, body burning, before drifting off, long past dawn.

  I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Alex was pulling his sweatpants on, yawning.

  Mateo came out of the bathroom wearing jeans but no shirt. His hip bones jutted out from his lean, muscular body. God, being so near him was torture. He scrounged around on the bed, finally locating his T-shirt.

  “My turn,” I said, heading for the shower.

  I cringed when I saw my wild hair and scream-queen makeup in the mirror. Turning on the shower, I stripped as I waited for it to warm up. I got in and scrubbed my whole body with soap. But I couldn’t wash off the feel of Mateo on my skin—and didn’t want to.

  Afterward, I rinsed out my mouth and pulled my hair back into a water-slick ponytail. With no makeup or toothbrush, it was the best I could do.

  Since we were all famished, we went to the greasy spoon next door. We each ordered the full breakfast, with coffee for Mateo and me, and OJ for Alex. I checked my phone.

  “I got a text from Dad,” I said. “‘I’m here this weekend. Yes, that’s the address. Carol Ann is excited to meet you. See you later. Hope everything is ok.’” I looked at Alex. “We’ll have to tell him the truth.”

  Alex chewed his lower lip. “Not everything, right? We could just say that a gang is after me. We don’t need to say that I was hanging out with them. He always said if I joined a gang he’d beat my ass.”

  “I wish he’d been around to beat your ass. He already knows you were hanging out with the Locos. I told him when you got out of the hospital.”

  Alex glared at me. “You’re not serious.”

  I glared back. “I wasn’t going to cover for you. Why should I? Anyway, I told him you were done with the gang.”

  “Good.” He looked at Mateo. “How long do you think I’ll have to stay at Carol Ann’s?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Alex sighed. “I was hoping to pass a few of my classes, at least woodworking and art. Now I’m screwed.”

  I put a hand over his. “I’ll contact the school and see if there’s a way to finish some of your courses.”

  “You will?”

  “I’ll ask them.”

  “Nobody can know where he’s living, not even his teachers,” Mateo said. “Too risky.”

  Alex looked upset by that, but I said quickly, “Don’t worry. Worst comes to worst, you’ll redo your courses online like I’ve been doing. It’s not a bad deal. You can work whenever you feel like it and you don’t have to go to class.”

  “All right.”

  We finished eating, and Mateo paid with cash.

  The car needed gas. Mateo insisted on paying for that, too. “I got this,” he said, pulling out his wallet again.

  “But you got—”

  “Don’t worry, it’s not a problem,” he said.

  Why was that? I wondered. Was it because he was making money with the Destinos? I knew that he wasn’t getting paid as a paramedic yet and that he wasn’t making much at the theater. The Destinos had stopped a gun and drug shipment after all—who knew what cut of the profits he got?

  But at this point I didn’t care where he was getting his money. All I cared about was that he was bringing Alex to safety.

  SAFE HAVEN

  CAROL ANN WAS A HEAVYSET woman with a brassy poof of blond hair and a cute Georgia twang. She smooshed us into her arms like long-lost friends. I wasn’t sure whether to be open to her warmth or wary of it. But I was glad for the friendly welcome, especially for Alex’s sake.

  She had a big Southern-style house with a wraparound porch and freshly painted white fences. I bet it was Dad who was maintaining it all so nicely. The garden was full of colorful flowers and perfectly trimmed shrubs.

  I wondered what they had together, he and Carol Ann. Did he love her?

  Dad wore khaki slacks and a button-down shirt. Carol Ann must have laid out the clothes for him. He gave Mateo a nice to see you nod, then headed for the trunk. “I’ll grab your bags.”

  “There aren’t any,” I said. “Let’s go in and talk.”

  The inside of the house didn’t disappoint. It was country elegant with lots of charming touches—wicker baskets and picture frames, fresh flowers, monogrammed pillows she’d probably stitched herself. Above the mirror in the foyer was a sign: “Home is where the heart is.”

  I had a feeling Alex would be comfortable here.

  After washing up, we sat down at the dining-room table. It was set with white china, navy cloth napkins, and polished silverware. The centerpiece was a vase of daisies. This Southern hospitality thing wasn’t a joke.

  Lunch was soup, crusty bread, cold cuts, and sweet tea. Carol Ann went back and forth from the kitchen. When she finally sat down, she asked us to bow our heads for grace.

  Dad had told us she was religious. I glanced at him—he bent his head as she said the blessing. I wondered if Carol Ann knew he was an atheist. Anyway, he was smart enough not to bite the hand that feeds him.

  The food looked delicious, and my stomach rumbled in response. We passed the dishes around. Dad didn’t wait long before asking, “Why no luggage?”

  I glanced at Alex.

  “Fine,” Alex said. “I screwed up big-time. I was hanging around with a group of assho—bad people, I mean. They’re kind of after me right now. Mateo helped get me out of Miami.”

  Dad’s eyes narrowed. “They’re kind of after you?”

  “Alex has to stay out of Miami for a while, so he doesn’t get hurt,” Mateo said.

  Carol Ann pressed a hand to her large chest. “Should we call the police?”

  Mateo shook his head. “It won’t do any good. It’ll only provoke the gang if the cops pay them a visit.”

  “Gang? These are gang people?” Carol Ann looked horrified.

  Religious and sheltered, I thought. Great.

  “They don’t know anything about you or where you live,” Mateo assured her. “This is the best place for Alex, if it’s okay with you.”

  “Of course,” Carol Ann said without hesitation. “Of course he can stay.” She looked at him with compassion, like he was a kid who’d skinned his knee.

  Dad was shaking his head. “I can’t believe this.” He turned to Alex for more explanation, but Alex just hung his head.

  “He understands the mistakes he’s made,” Mateo said, politician smooth. “I’m sure he’ll be more careful about who he hangs out with in the future.”

  “I hope so,” Dad said, not taking his eyes off Alex.

  A tight silence descended.

  “Would anyone like some cobbler?” Carol Ann asked.

  “Yes, please,” I said.

  Carol Ann didn’t look ready to kick us out, and for that, I was grateful. I tried to figure out what she saw in my dad. He wasn’t a bad-looking man, I supposed. He was a quiet, easygoing sort of person. Dad had no game. He wasn’t the charming, cheater type. He could also fix things. He didn’t cook but always appreciated it when somebody cooked for him.

  Actually it sounded like Dad wasn’t a bad match for Carol Ann. I suspected she doted on him, cooked great meals, and did his laundry. Bet she didn’t nag him too much.

  A sweet deal for both of them.

  It was strange, seeing him with a woman other than my mom. But it wasn’t as weird as I’d imagined. I used to worry that he’d be alone for the rest of his life. I’d never wanted that for him. Besides, something about Carol Ann was . . . soothing.

  Once we’d finished our cobbler, Carol Ann took us on a minitour of the house. She’d inherited it from her mother’s family, she said—which explained why she owned such a nice place on a teacher’s pay. She showed us upstairs to the bedrooms. There were three guest rooms, one for each of us. The rooms looked freshly cleaned, the beds made up with masses of lace-edged pillows.

  “Thanks for the hospitality, Ms. Watkins,” Mateo said. “It’s nice of you to take us in on short notice. I’ll be leaving early in the morning.”

  “Me too,” I said.


  Mateo looked at me sharply but didn’t say anything.

  Afterward, Mateo and Alex went to watch TV in the basement. I could picture my dad putting up his feet on the coffee table and lounging on the comfy couch, watching a game on the big screen. I went out to the porch with him and Carol Ann. She served up a sparkling peach drink.

  “Do you really have to leave tomorrow?” Carol Ann said, sitting down on a wicker chair. “I hope not. Y’all just got here.”

  “I wish I could stay, but I have to work. I took time off after Alex was hurt.”

  “But are you safe from those gang people?”

  I hadn’t even thought of that. I’d been too busy worrying about Alex. “I think so. Alex is the one they’re after. We don’t know how long he’ll need to stay away. It could be a while. I hope it’s not too much trouble for him to stay here, especially since my dad’s away so much.” I bit my lip. Visiting Dad’s girlfriend was one thing—moving Alex into her house was another.

  “It’s no trouble at all.” Carol Ann looked like she wanted to say more, but then turned to my dad. “Marc.”

  There was a long pause. Dad cleared his throat, squirming a bit. “We’re getting married.”

  “Wow.” I blinked, forcing a smile. I wasn’t sure how to react to the news, but it felt important not to hurt Carol Ann’s feelings. “That’s great! When’d this happen?”

  “Last month,” Carol Ann said apologetically. “I’m sorry if this is a shock. I’ve been wanting to meet you and your brother for months, but I guess the stars haven’t lined up.”

  The stars haven’t lined up was just another way of saying that my dad hadn’t made it happen. It was nice of her not to throw him under the bus, but I wouldn’t blame her if she had. Dad obviously felt uncomfortable introducing a new woman to us, so he’d done what he does best—simply avoided it. The man had avoidance down to a science.

  Dad couldn’t even look at me now, didn’t dare smile at his own announcement.

  I took a sip of my drink, feeling the sweetness burst in my mouth. “I’m so happy for you guys. This is exciting.”

  Carol Ann smiled. “Thanks, Grace. That means the world.”

  “Have you set a date yet?”

  “We were thinking of Thanksgiving weekend. It’s only four months away, but I think that’s enough time to work out the details. I’d love for you to be involved in planning the wedding, if you’d like.”