On the Edge

by Allison van Diepen

  “Taquitos with my mom. I’m staying home tonight.”

  “How’s Isa-Dora the Explorer taking it?”

  “She’s painting her room.” I showed him a picture on my phone. “What are you doing later, Manny? Cruising the bars? Trolling the streets for girls?”

  He smirked. “Actually, I’m gonna study.”

  “Study? For what?”

  “Heating and cooling.”

  That took me by surprise. “I didn’t know you were in school.”

  “Just part-time for now. In the fall I’ll start my apprenticeship full-time. Bye-bye, Micky D’s.” He eyed me. “What, you thought this was my career?”

  I shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I wasn’t sure what your plan was.”

  A knowing smile. “See, we’re more alike than you think, Diaz. You got your plans, and I got mine. I’m an ambitious man, mamacita.” He snapped his fingers. “And I’ve got just what you need.”

  “Good to know, Manny. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  The second latte was a mistake. As I waited for the bus after work, my whole body buzzed with caffeine. Or maybe it was my usual paranoia. Although I stood at the bus stop with several people, I didn’t feel safe.

  I heard a rustle behind me and practically jumped out of my skin. The heavyset woman next to me started at my reaction, pressing a hand to her large chest.

  “Sorry,” I said. I hoped she didn’t have a heart condition. It was probably just a cat in the bushes. Or a squirrel. Or a freaking ant.

  I needed a distraction. I glanced down at my phone. Iz had posted more pictures of her bedroom makeover. In each one, she and Abby were posing. One shot caught Iz midair, leaping off the bed in tiny shorts and an even tinier tank top. I smiled and shook my head.

  The squeal of tires brought my head up. In the same second, someone hooked my neck with his arm, slamming me to the pavement. As I fell, the world streaked red before my eyes. Then they were on me.

  Two guys. Maybe three. I couldn’t see. I’d squeezed my eyes shut against the blows raining down on me.

  Adrenaline coursed through me. I fought with every bit of strength I had. Tried to enlist my arms to protect my head, but they smashed right through them.

  A kick to my ribs. Pain curled me up.

  I knew this was coming, I realized. I knew it the moment I’d looked through the one-way mirror and identified Hector’s killers. It didn’t matter how many times I’d told myself that the Reyes wouldn’t come after me.

  I knew there’d be payback.

  I couldn’t scream. There was screaming around me, female screaming, but it wasn’t mine. I heard people calling for help. It’s not enough, I wanted to shout at them. Why can’t you help me?

  Because they’re scared. Like I was scared the night the Reyes had set Hector on fire.

  A blow smacked my head into the pavement. The shock reverberated through my skull. I felt myself shrinking away, retreating to the safety of the darkness. But I forced myself not to let go. If I lost consciousness, I wouldn’t be able to resist them anymore. And I might never wake up.

  Somewhere in the quiet part of my mind, I recognized that, back at home, Mom was making me taquitos. And that I would never be home to eat them.

  The blows suddenly stopped. I opened my eyes long enough to see my worst nightmare: they were pulling me toward a car. New panic sent a jolt through me, and I struggled wildly, trying to dislodge myself from their arms. But it got me nowhere. I went dead weight. One of them lost his grip on my left arm, and I twisted, slamming a fist into his groin. But I couldn’t shake the other one.

  Someone rammed into us, and I was flung to the ground. I put my hands over my head, bracing for what came next, but nothing did. I glanced up, my vision swimming into focus. There were guys fighting around me, punching and smashing each other.

  Tires squealed, and the car sped away.

  Two guys were beside me now. The blue-eyed one said, “It’s okay.”

  He lifted me up. The tops of trees volleyed above me, bouncing around my vision. I felt the warm, metallic taste of blood in my mouth and nose. I tipped myself forward over his shoulder so I could breathe. Every part of me vibrated with pain.

  But I was alive.

  “It’s okay,” he repeated, walking fast. “We’re helping you.”

  Instinctively, I knew that. These guys had done what no one else had—what I hadn’t done for Hector. They’d intervened before it was too late.

  We stopped moving. We were somewhere dark, maybe an alley. I must’ve blacked out for a few minutes, because I woke up in a moving car.

  Voices.

  “Two minutes, Lobo. How we gonna do this?” a guy shouted from the front seat.

  “Stay put. I’ll carry her in.” The voice came from above me. I realized that my head was being cradled in someone’s lap.

  I looked up at him. He wore a black bandanna over his face. That couldn’t be a good thing—I should be scared of him, shouldn’t I? But I wasn’t. I knew that I was safe. I felt it in the gentle way he was supporting my head.

  “She’s waking up,” he said, his voice muffled by the bandanna. Then he looked down at me, guiding a lock of hair out of my eyes. “Helluva night, huh? Don’t worry. You’re gonna be fine.”

  Fine? There were pain receptors in a hundred parts of my body that wanted to argue. I was about to tell him, but when I took a breath, my rib cage pulled tight, and only a grunt came out.

  “We’re going to drop you off at the hospital, Madeleina.”

  The journalist in me wanted to pounce on that. How did he know my name? And why was he covering his face? Who was he?

  The car glided to a stop, and a door opened. Then he swept me into the dizzying bright lights of the hospital. I felt him gently place me on a gurney.

  He came face to face with a terrified nurse. “What’s going on? Security! We need security over here!”

  “Her name is Maddie Diaz,” he said from behind his bandanna. “Take care of her.” He bent to my ear. “Hasta luego.”

  Then he was gone.

  NOT EVER

  I WOKE UP TO THE SOUND OF A TOILET FLUSHING. When I opened my eyes, I saw Mom emerging from the bathroom. She was settling back in an orange plastic chair when she noticed I was awake. “Sorry, honey. Did I wake you?”

  “What time is it?” My voice came out rough, like sandpaper.

  She looked at her watch. “Just after three. You can go back to sleep if you want. I made the nurses promise not to disturb you until dinnertime.”

  “It’s okay. I want to wake up.” Easier said than done, considering the drugs I was on. I glanced at the IV bag attached to my arm. Whatever was in there spelled sweet relief.

  I didn’t have to ask Mom what my injuries were—I’d learned all of that last night. The doctors and nurses had descended on me, assessing my injuries, and sending me for X-rays, stitches, and the rest. After several hours, they’d concluded that I had two broken ribs, a fractured arm, and a moderate concussion, not to mention gashes and bruises everywhere. Or, in the words of my rescuer, You’re gonna be fine.

  Lobo. That was the name he’d answered to. But why the name, and why hide his identity?

  “Can you help me sit up?” I asked Mom. I’d had enough of lying flat.

  Mom pressed a button on the bed and slowly eased me into a sitting position. That’s when Iz came in, carrying a teddy bear from the gift shop.

  “Maddie, you’re awake! I thought you were gonna sleep all day.” Iz pasted a big smile on her face, but her eyes were slightly red, and her mascara had left dark smudges beneath her eyes. “Here, this is for you.”

  She handed me a little pink bear with GET WELL on his chest. “Aw, cute.”

  “Better be, for twenty bucks,” Iz said, a hand going to her hip. “That place is a total rip-off. So, you all healed up? I thought we’d cruise the waiting room downstairs. I must’ve seen a dozen guys with surfing-related injuries.”

  “Soon as I can.” My whole
face tightened as I tried to smile, and I felt a bandage pull at my hairline.

  Iz turned to my mom. “I saw a few hot doctors who weren’t wearing wedding rings.”

  “I’ll expect you to get me some phone numbers, Iz,” Mom said. But she didn’t have Iz’s talent for pretended cheer. It occurred to me that Mom was still wearing her pajamas. Not everyone would know it, since she was wearing sweatpants and an old T-shirt. She must have gotten a call last night and been at the hospital ever since.

  “Are you hungry?” Mom asked. “Let me see if I can get you a sandwich or something.”

  Iz reached for the hospital phone. “I’ll call someone.”

  “There’s no room service,” I said, suddenly wanting to laugh. My chest bucked, like a hiccup, causing a jolt of pain.

  “Are you okay?” Mom and Iz asked at once.

  “I’m fine. Anyway, I’m not hungry.” Seeing the worry in my mom’s eyes, I said, “But I’m sure I will be soon. Hey, Iz, tell us more about the hot doctors.”

  Called to action, Iz sat down and started to talk. I watched Mom, hoping Iz was distracting her. But I didn’t think so. There was a stark sadness in her eyes that reminded me of a lost child. I’d seen that expression once before, in the terrible weeks after Dad had died.

  Someone knocked, but before we could answer it, the door opened. Detective Gutierrez came in with a female officer in uniform.

  “Hello, Maddie. How are you feeling?” Detective Gutierrez approached me.

  “No!” Mom bolted out of her chair, putting herself between the cops and my bed. “I told the staff to keep you out of here.”

  The cops exchanged a she’s crazy look. Detective Gutierrez put his hands together in a peace gesture. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through, Mrs. Diaz. I can’t imagine. I just wanted to ask your daughter a couple of questions so we can find the people responsible for this.”

  Mom’s eyes bulged. She got in his face, her index finger inches from his eyes. “You are responsible for this. They wouldn’t have come after her if you hadn’t pressured her to identify those gang members. Did you warn her of the risks? Or did you offer to protect her once she agreed to talk? Did you?”

  His mouth flattened. “I’m doing my job, Mrs. Diaz. Your daughter did the right thing, and I’m very sorry that—”

  “Get out of here, both of you!” Mom cried.

  “Mom, stop,” I said, worried she’d actually slap him.

  She ignored me. “Stay the hell away from my daughter, or I’m calling my lawyer.”

  Detective Gutierrez nodded. “All right, Mrs. Diaz. We understand.”

  When the cops left the room, Mom collapsed into a chair and sobbed. Iz went over and put her arms around her. I tried to get out of bed to do the same, but my body protested. This was all my fault. I’d put my mom through this because I’d chosen to testify. Because of my decision, she’d almost lost the only person she had left.

  Mom was right about one thing—I had been pressured to testify. But that wasn’t why I’d done it. I’d done it for Hector. I had failed him that night in the park, but I could stand up for him now. And as much as I regretted hurting my mom so much, I couldn’t regret my decision to identify Hector’s killers.

  Not now, not ever.

  Mom wouldn’t budge from the hospital until I ate something. I made a show of eating half a tuna sandwich and drinking some milk. Then Mom said she didn’t want me to be alone. Iz promised her she’d stay with me until I fell asleep. Finally, Mom agreed to go.

  The moment Mom left the room, Iz heaved a sigh. I could tell she was just as relieved as I was. I could also tell that she was done with the fluff talk. “What happened last night, Maddie? Do you even remember?”

  “Yeah, I do.” I’d once heard that if a memory is too traumatic, the human mind will block it out. It will hide it away in your subconscious until you choose to dig it up. But I recalled last night’s attack in vivid technicolor, down to the smallest details—the scratchy whiskers on the chin of one of my attackers, something sharp under my back, the voices calling for help. I remembered other things too—like Lobo’s gentle touch, and the kind words he’d spoken to me.

  “It was the Reyes, wasn’t it?” Iz asked, searching my eyes.

  I nodded. “They didn’t stop to identify themselves. But yeah.”

  “When I walked by this morning, there was blood on the sidewalk.” Iz blinked back some tears. “Your friend Manny’s been texting me all day. I don’t know how the hell he got my number, but he’s a pain in the ass. He blames himself for not waiting at the bus stop with you.”

  That was Manny. “Tell him it’s not his fault. I was at a crowded bus stop, for God’s sake. He couldn’t have predicted what would happen.”

  “No kidding.” She paused, taking a breath. “I heard some guys, like, saved your life and brought you to the hospital.”

  “Yeah. They stopped the Reyes from pushing me into a car.” I closed my eyes, remembering the horrible feeling when I’d known they were going to take me. “If the Reyes had gotten me into that car, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

  It felt strange to say it out loud. But the truth was, the guys who had attacked me hadn’t planned to scare me—they had planned to kill me. To make sure I couldn’t testify against Ramon and Diego. I knew it in my gut.

  “Who were the guys who helped you?” Iz asked. “They definitely deserve a fruit basket. Or a fucking lap dance from the hottest bitches in town.”

  “I didn’t know them. One of them had this nickname: Lobo. And he knew my name, which was kind of weird.”

  “Lobo?” Her eyes widened. “Fuck. Me. You’re kidding.”

  “What? You know him?”

  “Know him? Lobo is the leader of the Destinos, the gang that’s been screwing with the Reyes.”

  I stared at her. The Destinos?

  It was unbelievable.

  I’d been rescued by the gang everybody was talking about. And I’d had no clue.

  Was that why the Destinos had saved me—because their goal was to mess with the Reyes? No way, it wasn’t just business. Lobo’s kindness hadn’t been faked.

  “It makes sense,” I said. “Lobo kept his face covered, even in the car. It seemed really important to him to keep his identity secret.”

  “Important? Salazar would cut off his right ball to find out who Lobo is! Everybody says that Lobo figures out Salazar’s next move before he knows it himself. It’s burning Salazar’s ass. It’s like Lobo’s some sort of superspy—or even psychic.”

  Psychic? It seemed far-fetched, but there was something different about him, almost mystical.

  “Now I understand why they didn’t stay with me and wait for an ambulance,” I said. “The Destinos wouldn’t want to be identified. And if they’d left me at the scene, the Reyes might’ve come back to finish the job.”

  Iz was all wound up. “Shit, Maddie, I can’t believe the Destinos saved you! That is so badass. Now think. What was Lobo like? Was he tall or short? How old was he?”

  “I have no idea. I never got a clear look at him.”

  “Okay, but do you think he was good-looking? I know his face was covered, but good-looking guys have this sexy vibe. You know what I’m saying?”

  Iz was over the top, and I loved her for it. “Okay, fine, there was something sexy about him. I can’t explain it.”

  “Quadruple freaking wow. Of course he was sexy. It’s the power, Maddie. He’s got Salazar looking for him twenty-four/seven, which would scare most people shitless, but not Lobo. He just keeps going. And that’s sexy as hell. Even if he’s got a face full of craters and bulldog lips. Power is sexy.”

  I doubted his face fit that description. All I knew for sure was that I was dying to see him again. When he had dropped me off at the hospital, he’d said, “Hasta luego.” Until the next time.

  I hoped he’d meant it.

  THE VISITOR

  I FELL ASLEEP LISTENING TO BALLADS ON IZ’S IPOD. In my dream I roamed t
he streets of Miami, which had become a postapocalyptic wasteland. I was alone, a crossbow strapped to my back. Humans with no eyes would step out in front of me, and I shot them down, one by one. I felt powerful, almost invincible. And then my eyes flicked open and I saw myself in the hospital bed. The powerful feeling dissolved.

  I fell into another dream immediately. A jumble of images of my childhood flashed before me like snapshots in a camera commercial. I saw my dad and grandparents smiling, joking around. I saw myself crying over a toy my cousin had taken from me. I saw days at the beach, sandy toes, and sunburn peeling off my shoulders.

  When I surfaced from the dream, I was aware that someone had come into my room. I opened my eyes, expecting to find a nurse checking my IV or getting ready to replace a bandage.

  But it was him.

  He was standing by my bed, as still as silence. He wore a black bandanna over his face and a black cap tucked low over his eyes. I wasn’t afraid. I knew that he was the one who’d cradled my head in his lap and stroked my hair.

  “I had to see you,” he said.

  My chest filled with every emotion. “Lobo.”

  “You know who I am.” He didn’t sound happy.

  “That name doesn’t tell me who you are.”

  “It tells you enough. More than you need to know.”

  “I don’t know anything. I think you’re probably a dream. Are you?”

  He shook his head. “I’m blood and bone, like you, Madeleina. I want you to know that you’re safe now. The Reyes who attacked you won’t come after you again. And neither will the others.”

  My mind wrapped around that slowly. “How can you know that?”

  “You just have to trust me.”

  “Did you kill the guys who attacked me?” I looked up at the black bandanna, wishing I could see through it. Wishing I could at least see the expression in his shaded eyes.

  “No, I didn’t kill them. But they deserved to die for what they did to you. And for what they would have done.”

  His words sent a chill through me. We both knew what he meant.

  “I want to know who you are, Lobo.”