Escape (Blackstone Series Book 2)

by J. L. Drake

  Her ripped jeans and heels had my stomach in a twist. Her black top and dark hair made her eyes look like deep brown pools. She wore a stack of bracelets on one wrist and long earrings that sparkled when she moved.

  Holy hell, she was just as perfect as I remembered.

  Right before she spotted me, I reached for a bottle of wine, pretending I didn’t see her.

  “Keith?” Her voice was low and raspy and hit all the right places.

  With a glance to my side I granted her a big lopsided smile, which wasn’t difficult, considering she made every part of my body come alive.

  “Lexi?” I paused to sound more surprised. “Hey.”

  She looked around before she moved to close the space between us. “Wow, you look…” she gave a small smile, “…really good.”

  “So do you.”

  She stared at me for a few moments. Oh, what I wouldn’t do to know what she was feeling.

  She glanced at the wine bottle. “Big plans?”

  “Well, if drinking with Nan when Mom isn’t looking is considered big plans, then yes, I do.”

  She laughed lightly, and my hands twitched to reach out and touch her.

  “How long are you in town for?”

  I shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Three is getting married in a few weeks—”

  “So I hear. High school sweethearts.”

  I swallowed the knot that came with those words. “Yeah, so not sure how long after that.”

  “Are you still in the Army?”

  …And the knot grew. “Yes, special ops now.”

  Her eyes couldn’t hide the fact she was uncomfortable with that. “Wow, sounds scary.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  She took a quick glance over her shoulder like she was watching for someone, and I caught a glimpse of some dark coloring on her shoulder as her shirt moved.

  “What happened to your shoulder?”

  She looked startled as she saw me pointing at it. She quickly covered up the mark. “Box dropped on it. Looks worse than it actually is.”

  “Right.” I let my annoyance show, but she seemed too preoccupied to notice.

  She placed her hand on my arm, and I immediately relaxed at her cool touch. “It was really nice to see you again.”

  “You too, Lex.”

  She started to bite her lip before she stepped back. It looked as if she wanted to say something, but she didn’t.

  “Lexi!” someone shouted, and her head snapped in that direction.

  “Umm.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I should go.”

  Antonio Garcia, the leader of the Almas Perdidas gang, grabbed her from behind, pulling her back into him. My hands formed into fists at my sides, and my mouth tasted like tin as my teeth drove into my cheek. I had to use every ounce of training not to react.

  I’ve known Antonio since I was twenty-three. We hung out with the same guys for a while, until I realized they were trouble. That was when I learned Juan was his little half-brother. We met right after Lexi and I broke up, after my first tour.

  “Keith?” He relaxed when he realized who it was she was speaking to. “Wow, it’s been a few years.”

  “It has.” My tone was hard to curb. My hatred for this man had my fingers twitching.

  He looked from Lexi to me and back again. “Oh, yeah, you two used to date in high school, right?”

  “Barely,” she quickly said. I glanced at her for immediately downplaying how close we had been. I hoped it was only that she didn’t want him to know, and not because she really wanted to dismiss our past so readily. I decided to play it her way.

  “Yeah, we did, briefly.” I stared at her. “I’m with someone else now.”

  The emotion that ran across her face gave me hope, hope that maybe there was still some feeling there for me. As quickly as it came, though, her face hardened and she turned toward Antonio.

  “Good.” He tugged her closer. “Don’t need anyone filling her head with shit. Bad enough she has a mouth on her.”

  I loved that mouth.

  Antonio looked down at Lexi’s basket, which was filled with steak. “Why don’t you come by the club tonight? We’re having a barbeque, throw back a few beers. We’re celebrating.” He smiled, and his capped teeth shone under the lights. All he needed was an obnoxious clock and he’d be Flavor Flav.

  “Celebrating what, exactly?”

  His mouth curved. “Come on by and see for yourself. Besides, since you’re in town, I want to talk to you about something.”

  I couldn’t help but be interested. Plus, I would get to see Lexi again, and that alone was enough to make me agree to hang out at their clubhouse.

  “Yeah, all right. What time?”

  “Seven. You should bring your bitch.”

  Dismissing his comment, I shrugged. “I could use the break.”

  “Pfft, I get that.” He shook Lexi, and she grimaced. “If I didn’t think this one would get into trouble, I would do the same.”

  Pulling out my phone, I waved goodbye and headed outside.

  Keith: Just got an invite to the AP clubhouse.

  Clark: Meet me at the lake. We should talk.

  ***

  The clubhouse windows were painted black, but a few areas were purposely left with a smudge so they could see out. That was different. A few years ago, they were all clear. Not exactly a subtle change.

  According to my chat with Clark, Antonio always had a spotter on the roof, and at least four men were on lookout, one by every window, and two outside each door.

  The Boston Police Department’s informant was named Gordon, and according to Clark, I wouldn’t be able to miss him.

  Easing into an open spot, I parked out front and locked my doors. With my hands in my pockets, I met the ugly-ass dude at the entrance. He studied my face, and the grip on his handgun stayed tense.

  “Name?”

  “Keith.”

  “Do I know you?”

  It took me a moment, but I placed him. He was one of those losers who used to sniff spray cans down by the tracks. “We went to high school together.”

  “Ah, you’re in the Army, right?”

  Gotta love small towns.

  “Yes.”

  “You packing?”

  My face scrunched. “No, they don’t let you take home the M-16s.” He stared at me, obviously not liking my sarcasm.

  “Smart guy, aren’t ya?” He stared at me. “Go on in.” He flicked his head with his pierced, studded neck in the direction of the door.

  Pushing the wooden door open, I stepped into the dark, smoky clubhouse. It hadn’t changed much. It took my eyes a moment to adjust before I spotted Antonio in the corner with a bottle of whiskey between his legs. So much for the beer.

  Just like the dumbass at the door, Antonio was a shit, one of those loner kids in high school you might try to befriend because you felt sorry for him, but later you’d probably find him stealing from your locker. He was the type read about in the newspaper who people would remember overhearing him mutter comments about how everyone should die. His head wasn’t on straight, and that was why he had been in and out of jail so much over the past ten years. His uncle used to run this gang and was more than happy to teach Antonio all he needed to know to take over. Clark told me the one thing Antonio was good at was recruiting new members. Apparently, he knew what the soulless assholes wanted, and they joined him. Once you were in, you were in, and there was no getting out easily—well, at least not alive.

  “Holy shit, you came. Look who just walked in, boys!” Antonio tossed his head back and gave a horse-like laugh. “If it isn’t Private Keith. “

  “First Sergeant,” I corrected him. He may not get it, but I was proud of my accomplishment.

  “First Sergeant.” He smirked as he rested his dirty shoe on the ledge of the table. “Hey, where’s Spit?” he shouted at Will Shonna where he stood behind the bar. The other winner I despised.

  Suddenly, Elliot app
eared, looking tall and skinny. He had sleeves with black comic book characters, and of course the coiled snake wrapped his forearm. The signature tattoo of the Almas Perdidas. Scales ran up his neck and curved around the ears and along the jaw bone. Not a look I would go for. My own tattoos were extremely personal.

  “Jesus Christ! Keith?” He came forward and hugged me.

  “Hey, man, how are you? What happened to the wrist?” I pointed to the dirty cast covering some of the snake.

  His face flinched and he stepped back and glanced at Antonio, but he didn’t reply.

  “Spit, go get the First Sergeant a beer.”

  Elliot nodded and rushed to the bar.

  Antonio pushed out a chair with his foot as an offering to sit.

  “Spit?” I asked as I took his offer.

  Antonio waited until Elliot returned with the beer.

  “Thanks, El—”

  Antonio spat on Elliot’s shoe and laughed. “I chew tobacco, and Elliot is my cup. Better him than the floor.”

  Or a cup?

  Elliot kept his head down in embarrassment as he took a deep breath. “Anything else?”

  “Go make me something to eat.”

  “Okay.” He hurried off toward what I assumed was the kitchen.

  Antonio threw his whiskey bottle behind the counter and grabbed the beers, popping one for himself and tossing me the other. “I learned real quick that some people were made to ride with me, and others were made to be my bitch.”

  My hand clenched around the neck of the beer as he talked.

  “Spit back-doored his way in here. He does what he’s told, but he stands up for his sister, trying to protect her and shit.” He slammed his hand on the table and his face changed. “If I wanna hit a bitch, I will. All women are good for is a tight hole, anyway.”

  Blood pumped to my hand as my grip grew stronger around the bottle. The guy could blink and he’d be dead. Just a jab to the neck and he’d be down. Tempting.

  “Ain’t that right, Lexi?” he called over my shoulder. “Get over here.”

  She placed her tray down and came over, and her eyes grew wide when she saw it was me sitting across the table from Antonio. She looked incredibly sexy in her little black dress. Her hands slid over Antonio’s shoulders and she kissed his cheek.

  Moving her to his side, he wrapped an arm around her waist. “This one here has the tightest hole I’ve ever felt. I need to stick it in butter to get it in there.”

  Lexi gave a small smile, but I could tell she was embarrassed by how her cheeks grew pink.

  I pretended not to notice when Antonio slid his hand up her skirt and she tried to move aside. The whole time he watched us carefully. I knew this was a test.

  So I faked disinterest and turned to ask Will for another beer. When I turned back, he was making a show of licking his fingers. Lexi’s stance told me she was mortified, but she leaned down and kissed him, drawing it out longer to prove a point of her own.

  His face turned to a frown and he pushed her away, but I noticed she stayed within hearing distance.

  Antonio’s fingers strummed the table, and he watched me as I watched him, each wondering what the other’s motives were for being here.

  “I know what you did for my sister.” Antonio rubbed his chin with his knuckles. He leaned back, pulled out a joint and played with it, running it back and forth through his bony fingers. “I have to ask, why?”

  “You referring to Selena?”

  He nodded slowly.

  I blinked, remembering.

  I was back hanging out at the end of the year party at Boston University with Lexi.

  “It’s a love-hate with beer.” Clark held up his Heineken and stared through the green glass. “I love beer, but on the flip side, it makes me have to pee every seven minutes. And it’s not short. You’re guaranteed a minute a beer. So times that by three?” He closed one eye and laughed that he was too buzzed to do the math. “All I’m saying is I wish I could tuck an empty up my shorts and go whenever the feeling strikes.”

  “Oh, sure.” Lexi laughed, handing me a beer before she climbed on my lap. With one arm wrapped around her waist, I balanced my bottle on her knee. “Complain about how you have to stand by a tree and pee. Whereas we, on the other hand…”

  “Yeah!” Mimi was wrapped around some guy’s neck and called out at the wrong moment and made Lexi chuckle.

  “Have to cop an ever so sexy squat and hope to hell we don’t pee on our feet.” She tipped her bottle in his direction. “At least you’re working with a little distance, my friend. We have a wobbly stance working with less than an inch, and that’s if we really have to go. Think of the splash factor!”

  Clark shook his head, trying to keep up. “Whatever, now I need to pee.”

  “Lucky!” Mimi chimed in again, causing us all to laugh.

  I kissed Lexi on the cheek before I stood, setting her on her feet.

  “I got to go too.”

  “Sure, rub it in.” She grinned, pretending to be pissed.

  “I could get you a funnel.”

  She shrugged. “Not a bad idea. Maybe we could patent it. ‘A woman’s best friend in the woods.’ Or, ‘We can too.” Or, ‘Stick it and release it.’”

  “You about done?” I was ready to burst at the seams.

  “No, I have more.”

  Turning on my heel, I raced into the thick brush, looking for a good spot. I quivered as I passed two guys having a full blown conversation as they peed. No, thank you. Not a time for sharing. It was the one time I could just turn off and let my mind wander, alone, thank you very much.

  Several more feet into the woods I saw a clearing, I quickly crossed the tracks and found myself a spot. Undoing my fly, I let out a relaxed sigh and enjoyed the release of the last four beers from my bladder’s tight grip.

  I turned my head when I heard a distant puffing noise. I stepped back quickly, zipping and pulling my shirt back down. Still hidden in the brush, I heard a cry from the opposite direction.

  Oh my God!

  A small girl, maybe fourteen—I couldn’t see in the near dark—was walking up on the tracks, sobbing into her hands. Well, shit!

  The light from the train soon lit her up. She didn’t move off the tracks; she just kept going. I raced toward her.

  “Hey!” I cupped my mouth and forced my feet to beat harder. “Get off the tracks!” I knew it was stupid to say, but it was all that came out. “Hey!”

  Maybe she couldn’t hear me. The train blared a long, drawn-out horn, but she kept walking right into the light.

  Almost there, I felt a jolt spring through me, and I lunged forward and tackled her, taking her with me down into the ditch below.

  Arching my weight in the air, I somehow managed not to kill her and only landed on her shoulder. A moment later, the train came speeding by, again madly blowing its horn, almost like it was saying holy shit back. Someone’s heart was probably pounding on board!

  The tracks screamed as the metal on metal zoomed by us. Once I caught my breath, I looked down and was shocked to see who was below me.

  “Selena?” I moved to my knees and helped her sit up.

  Her wild hair, bloodshot eyes, and panting breath had me stunned.

  “Why did you do that?” she whispered through a cry. Selena was only fourteen, and I knew she had just been dealt a bad blow as her parents and her baby cousin were recently killed. It was rumored it was by a rival gang that hated her brother. According to Four, who had told us all about it as she was in the same class, Selena was well past depressed and needed some serious help. “I almost got you killed!”

  “Yeah, you did.” I helped her to her feet, knowing not much I said at this moment would get through to her. So, I changed my approach and played the tough love card. “And in return, you’re going to get some help. Okay?” I gave her a look not to push me.

  “Yeah.” She folded her arms around her body and shook. I knew the whole incident scared the crap out of her. I ju
st hoped it was what she needed to jolt her back to maybe wanting to live. “Okay.”

  My mind jerked back to find Antonio studying my expression. “Why? I think anyone would do what I did.” I shrugged.

  Antonio shook his head and checked the time on his phone. “Well, she’s got a family now, three kids and a husband. Wants nothing to do with the gang, never did. My sister was never like the rest of us.” His face seemed to soften just a fraction, then quickly hardened over. “Whatever, it’s one less person to watch over.”

  A guy caught my eye as he eased into a seat with a beer and opened a newspaper. Just as I was about to look away, he gave me a quick glance. That’s when I noticed the scar that ran straight across his forehead. It was Gordon, the undercover informant.

  “Tell me something, Keith.” Antonio downed some more of his beer. “Why did you and Lexi break up?”

  I saw her hand stop mid-swipe over a table. Her shoulders stiffened, and she made a loud noise when she tossed a cup on her tray.

  “It was just a high school fling. We grew up. I joined the Army and moved on.” I was not about to share my intimate moments with this asshole. He was clearly trying to see if he could get a rise out of me.

  He smirked as he lit his joint, and the tattooed guns on the side of his neck contracted as he sucked back the smoke.

  Every member of the Almas Perdidas had the snake coiled around their left arm, but they also wore a tightly rolled, thin, red bandana around the right wrist. His fingers idly picked at it as he sat there allowing the joint to do its work.

  “Hey! Antonio!” Some meathead entered with a guy draped over his shoulder. He dumped him on the floor like a stack of fire wood.

  “Brought you a present.”

  Sweat broke out along my shoulders when I saw the guy’s head. He had a deep scar straight across his neck. He looked pretty badly beaten and was most definitely dead. I looked up to find Antonio watching me closely before he addressed the guy.

  “Who did it?”

  The meathead smirked. “He was running out the door, and I took a pipe to his neck. Never saw it coming.”

  I had seen those colors before, and that patch. It has been etched in my memory for some time now. “Is that…?” I stumbled with real fear over my words.