by BT Urruela
“I honestly don’t know how the hell I got back here,” Gabi says abruptly. She looks around the bar and shakes her head.
“Outside of the Army, this place is all I ever knew,” she continues. “Once Dad passed, I just didn’t know where else to go. The Army was my life for a long time. I was a fucking wreck without it. I still am.”
“I can only imagine.”
There’s a comfortable silence that sits between us as we watch Jimmy pour the shots in front of us. He’s grinning back at us like an idiot.
“What, no shot for me?” Rock calls from behind us and I look back to see a wide smile on his face.
“I thought you’d be dick deep inside a country boy, Rock. My fault,” Gabi says and he doubles over in laughter.
“What, no luck?” I ask, a smirk on my face.
Once Rock contains himself and straightens, he holds up a book of matches between two fingers. It has a name and number written in pen on the flap. “Think again, new guy,” Rock says, pursing his lips. “Later tonight that ass is mine.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I say, eyeing the matchbook as he pockets it.
“I’m telling you,” Shane says, coming up from behind Rock and throwing an arm around his neck. “My boy’s got mad game. Now grab me one of those too, Jimmy.”
Jimmy pours two more shots and then lines the bar with them. Each of us takes a shot glass but our eyes wander, waiting for someone else to lead the cheers.
“Shit, I’ll get it then,” Jimmy says, clearing his throat. “Here’s to those who sit when they pee. We love ‘em in leather. We love ‘em in lace. But we love ‘em the best when they sit on our face.” A smattering of ‘here-heres’ and laughter precedes eight shots downed between us and the thump of all the shot glasses hitting the bar top.
“Fuck, I love that shit,” I say, a burn tearing down my throat.
Jimmy leans in to Gabi and whispers, “Now, I hate to do this because you know I love y’all coming up and seeing me. But word is ‘you know who’ will be up here tonight. And soon. Might be best for y’all to continue the party elsewhere.”
Gabi nods in appreciation. “Thanks, Jimmy. Why don’t you get us another round of shots and the check?”
“You got it, darlin’.”
Her focus trails back to me and she must catch the concern in my eyes because she looks away quickly.
“What are you going to do about that? What can you do?” I ask.
“Shit. Your guess is as good as mine. I need money. A lot of it… And fast.” She shrugs, swigging the last of her beer. “It’s all just shit.”
Once the last round of shots is downed and the tab is paid, we bid farewell to Jimmy and make our way outside. As we pass through the doors and straddle our respective motorcycles, the growl of incoming engines and bright headlights pulls our attention. I start up my own bike and Paige hops on behind me as Javi and his crew pull up. They dismount their bikes and walk slowly to the front door, their attention on Gabi. One of his crew opens the door for Javi and as he slips in, he slides one finger across the length of his throat, laughing his way inside the Six Shooter.
And then all eyes are on Gabi before she takes off down the road.
“So, what’s next with all this?” I ask, breaking an uneasy silence that’s taken up the living room since we returned. My eyes land on Gabi, as does everyone else’s around me, and she doesn’t say anything.
“I have a plan. It’d involve robbing cash trucks. Three cities… one day,” Shane says, breaking the silence and scanning the room. “We’ll hit them with light explosives… enough to demobilize them.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “And then we hit ‘em. That’s the gist of it anyways.”
“I’m in,” I say abruptly, and Paige’s focus quickly shifts to me. I don’t look at her but instead continue, “I’m in. As long as nobody gets hurt, and nobody finds themselves caught up… I’m in.”
“Y’all know I am,” Rock says, shrugging. “I reckon I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Gabi mouths a ‘thank you’ to him and he nods.
“Here’s the thing…” Irish says, his fingers still running through Brandi’s hair. “I’m in too.”
“What the fuck, dude? Way to be dramatic,” I say with a laugh.
“Just give me my Emmy already,” he says and smiles. “I imagine you’re gonna need a driver for this. And I’m pretty damn good at that, if I do say so myself.”
“Can we speak, please,” Paige whispers and after a quiet moment, I stand without responding.
“We’re going to go get some fresh air. Maybe a blunt will be rolled when we get back?” I ask, wriggling my brows and then reaching a hand out for Paige. She takes it and we proceed to the door. I grab my leather jacket, slip it over her shoulders, and we head out.
“Babe, talk to me. What’s wrong?” I ask as Paige as I take a seat on the porch step. She does too and shoots a glare at me that tells me I should know already.
“Xander, think about this for a second. You got out of prison, what… a couple weeks ago. Maybe a month. And then you left me to find your sister, and I get that, but what am I supposed to think here? When you’re pretty much telling me you’re gonna risk going back to prison.”
I scratch my chin, thinking, and unable to come up with anything to say. I see where she’s coming from, but also see no other alternative.
“It’s my sister,” I finally say, shaking my head. “It’s my sister, Paige. Do you get that? I may not know a thing about her, but it doesn’t matter. She’s blood. And she’s all I fucking got.”
“You—you’ve got me,” she stammers, the tears starting to fall and it rips my fucking heart out. I grab her and pull her in.
“You know I don’t mean it like that, baby.” I put my lips against her forehead, taking in every bit of her before pulling back. “She’s just the only family I have.”
Paige trembles, her face falling into her hands as she begins to weep.
“And what…” she sniffles, speaking into her hands. “What family do I have, Xander? Tell me. What do I have left?”
My mind runs and runs but comes up with nothing. Nothing. Which is exactly what she has left.
“I’m so sorry, Paige.” I put a hand to her face and pull her eyes to mine. “Just like I would fight to the ends of the earth for you… I will for her too. I’m sorry. There’s just no other way around it.”
“I get it,” she sighs, her eyes still toward the ground.
“Baby, I love you so much,” I say sincerely, drawing her eyes to mine. “You mean the fucking world to me. Just please…” I pause, taking a deep breath. “Please understand that I have to do this. I have to help.”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, letting my words linger in the air.
“Just promise to come back to me,” she says, her head leaning into my chest.
“I promise,” I say, brushing the hair from her eyes. “I promise I’ll be back, my love.” As I admire her gorgeous face under the moonlight, a single tear rolling down her cheek, our moment is disrupted by the thump of a bass drum, then another and another. A snare drum kicks in and then a bass line after that. The vibrations carry out to the porch with ease through the rickety front door.
“What the fuck?” I say, my face scrunched and focused on the door.
“Go in, babe,” Paige says, standing and motioning for me to do the same.
I do and we walk in, the reverb from the amp hitting us hard as we enter and the thump of the bass drum setting a cadence.
“What the fuck? Who plays the drums?” I repeat, catching Gabi on the couch, in mid conversation with Brandi.
“Rock does. He and Shane used to be in a band together,” Gabi replies.
“Well shit, I want to,” I say, my focus still on the guest room door where the sound is coming from.
“Hey, there’s another guitar in there,” she says. “Go ahead.”
“Your neighbors don’t care?” I ask, inching my way toward the guest room.
It’s all I need to go in the room and join them.
It’s not often I find myself in a room with only women. In fact, over the past decade or more of my life I can’t remember a time when I was; let alone in my own house with two complete strangers. Knowing I should probably play kindly host, my mind runs through conversation topics. I spin the wheel and unleash the word vomit.
“How long have you been seeing Xander?” I ask, my voice raised over the live music in the background. I hand out beers I retrieved from the fridge. First, to Paige on the loveseat, then to Brandi on the recliner before spreading out on the couch myself.
“Well, that’s an interesting question,” she says, a soft giggle following. “We first met over three years ago. But we lost touch for a while.” She slips her bottom lip between her teeth, her focus shifting around the room, before she finally turns to me. “We reconnected a few months ago. What about you and Shane? How long have you been together?”
I laugh, waving a hand. “No, no… we dated, or whatever you wanna call it, a while ago… back in our early days. We’re just friends now though. Best friends,” I correct myself. “The poor guy loves me though. I think we’re just too good of friends at this point.”
“You don’t love him back?” Paige asks.
“Oh, well, I mean, of course I love him. He means everything to me. Let’s just say I’m indefinitely off the market.”
“I get it,” Paige says, nodding.
“What about you? What’s your story?” I motion toward Brandi and she raises her left hand, wiggling her ring finger before setting it back to her lap.
“Chase and I have been married a few months now. Just did the courthouse thing. He still owes me a damn honeymoon.” She squints, pursing her lips. “Shithead.” She smirks, lifting her beer. “You got anything stronger by the way? That was a shit ride today. I’m trying to get stupid.”
I laugh, nodding my head. “You got it.” I stand and walk to the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of Fireball and Jack Honey from the fridge, I return with them and hold them up, asking, “Will this do the trick?”
Brandi licks her lips and reaches her hands out with gimmie fingers. She snatches the Fireball and takes a stiff chug directly from the bottle. She passes it to me and I follow suit.
“Much better,” Brandi says, fighting off the aftertaste as I pass the bottle off to Paige. I take a seat back on the couch and stow the Jack Honey on the coffee table.
Paige takes a small sip and sets the bottle down beside the other. She then looks at me, concern so thick in her brow you could detect it from a mile away.
“This plan of yours… do you think it’ll work?” she asks.
“First off, this isn’t my plan. I didn’t want to involve other people. This is Shane’s baby. My plan was to say fuck it and rob some bank a county over or something.” I chuckle and shake my head at just how stupid that plan would be. “Do I think his plan can work?” I continue. “Yeah, for sure. Shane knows more about explosives than anyone…” I stop myself, taking another shot from the Fireball bottle as I think about all the other secondary things that could send even his plan to shit… and fast. “Can I say a police officer or patrolman won’t be driving by at that exact moment… that one of the IEDs won’t detonate at the wrong time, hitting another vehicle instead… Or that the cash truck driver may not be wearing a seat belt and hits his head in such a way that it kills him… no, I can’t say that. I’m a realist. And being a realist, I know there are a million different things that could go wrong.”
Brandi and Paige both look at me as if I just dropped a bomb on them. And maybe I did. I don’t know their past. I don’t know if they can understand the reality of a situation like this. But the truth is all I know. A tear rolls down Paige’s cheek, but she catches it with her hand quickly as she looks away.
“I don’t mean to be so doom and gloom,” I say, smiling. “There’re three of us here who served several tours with Special Forces. We can make this happen.” I take a deep breath, straightening up a little on the couch. “Everything just has to go right.”
Paige shakes her head slowly. “It’s all just so crazy… so damn crazy.”
“Tell me about it,” I say flatly. “It’s not an ideal situation. And I promise you, I’ve told Xander I don’t want or need his help. I don’t want him risking his ass for me any more than you do.” Her apologetic eyes meet mine.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that—”
“She’s been through a lot lately. I think this is hard for all of us to process,” Brandi says, cutting Paige off and passing her a remorseful look.
“It’s okay, Brandi,” Paige says, putting her hand up. She looks at me, her hands clasping together. “I love Xander… with all my heart. And I only want what’s best for him. And trust me, what’s best for him right now is doing whatever it takes to help you. He’s been hurting over this… this situation for a long time.”
“We’ll be okay,” I say, shaking my head slowly. “Everything will be okay.”
As the sun rises, I monitor my phone like a hawk while also watching Shane snoring in bed beside me. I haven’t slept all night, worried about what we are all about to take on and how many lives are now involved. I was drunk, sobered up, and got drunk again and my eyes now burn. My eyelids fight to close, but when they do my mind just runs. I need a fix. And I need one now.
My guy has a no morning text rule, but he knows if I do message him as early as I did this morning that I’m fiending hard. Being a childhood friend and all, my last one left in this God forsaken town, he takes care of me when he can. The two hours I’ve waited now for his happy ass to get back to me is mind numbing. I certainly have time, as Shane and the other guys played well into the night with an adequate amount of liquor breaks. Rock took off sometime during the night to meet his boy toy, but the others stayed up drinking into the early morning hours.
The girls and I stayed up too, talking about our pasts, and learning that we have more in common than maybe I originally thought. Paige is so timid when you first meet her. An immediate thought, as in my case, can obviously sway toward weakness. But she’s far from it. I was shocked to hear what she’s had to overcome. It makes me feel selfish about involving her and Xander in my self-induced downfall. By the time everyone racked out, the quiet loneliness that was left and an unstoppable bout of insomnia led me to here—to this yearning.
My gaze drifts to the vanity directly across from me, catching my sad reflection. I scowl back at the ugliness I see. The desperate state of an ill-fated woman. I brought all of this on myself. And now so many others are risking everything to help me dig myself back out. It’s fucked. It’s all just so fucked.
The phone, clutched tight in my hands, finally goes off and I quickly bring up the message.
Ricky: Yeah, I got you. Meet you in fifteen. Usual spot.
I pocket my phone, the surge of anticipation buzzing inside me. I can nearly taste it. I move as quietly as I can, from my bed to the closet and slip on a pair of chucks. Shane tosses in his sleep, muttering something, and I freeze completely, glancing back to find he’s still fast asleep, battling a nightmare as usual. I open the door slowly and creep out, shutting it as quietly as I can. I slink through the front room, stepping over sleeping bodies sprawled out on the floor. I slip out the front door, shutting it behind me and not bothering to lock it as it’s only a short walk away. Starting up the Harley engine now would be much too loud anyway.
It’s always sobering to walk in the early morning light after a night of drinking on no sleep. It feels almost like a lucid dream. Like your body is there, but your mind is adrift in the clouds. The warmth of the rising sun hits my skin in a way that makes me wish I could post up right here on the sidewalk for a quick catnap. I spot Ricky in the distance, though, leaning against a dead end sign. He smiles as he spots me and gives a quick wave. The hous
es around us are desolate and wasting away in varying degrees of degradation. This neighborhood, like many throughout Trinity, has gone to shit. It makes for a good drug deal spot because of it though. It also makes it odd that there’s a van parked on the street. Normally, I’d investigate it further, but in my half-dazed state, the one and only thing I truly care about is getting my hands on some coke. When I’m just a few steps away from him, Ricky’s demeanor changes. His smile fades and lines take up his forehead.
“I’m so sorry, Gabi,” he mutters, shaking his head, his eyes falling to the pavement. “I’m so sorry.”
I feel hands wrap me up, causing me to thrust my head back in reaction. I feel a thud and the arms release me. Turning, I see I’ve cracked open the nose of one of Javi’s guys. A few more pile out of the van, and as I go to run, the van darts toward me, the engine revving. I change direction just in time to run into Javi himself, my chin meeting his thick chest. I take a step back, but it’s too late. Smiling, his gold tooth shimmering in the early sunlight, he thumps me in the head with a blackjack… and darkness takes hold.
“Fuck!” A voice, what sounds to be Shane, rips through the house. Paige nudges me until my eyes open again.
“Motherfuckers!” he yells again, so loud it’s as if the guest room door isn’t even shut.
“What’s going on?” I mumble, my eyes adjusting to the sunlight.
“Your guess is as good as mine. Doesn’t sound good though,” she says as I turn over and look at the clock. I painstakingly climb out of bed with a groan as the guest room door comes tearing open. Shane stands, a note in his hand and his face flushed bright red.
“Read it,” he says, handing it out for me to take. I grab it, rubbing a finger and thumb in my eyes before beginning to read.
I’m glad so many of Gabi’s friends have come to play. This must mean there are more than enough pockets to cover her debt. For our troubles, another 50K has been added on. That makes 150K total. You have five days now. In five days, if I don’t have my money. She dies.