Ryder

by Hope Stone

  “Okay, after the concert, let’s meet at that Starbucks on the corner.” I pointed to a Starbucks that was about four blocks away from the convention center. This way we could meet and minimize the traffic leaving the parking lot.

  Since I was going to be at the concert, I’d know when it got out and would wrap things up and head over there.

  “Sounds good,” Lily said. “Can you let us out here? I want to check out the prices of the merch before we get inside.” She was pointing to some kid with green hair selling t-shirts off the side of the road out the back of his car.

  “Sure.” I pulled over and they got out. “Be careful, okay?”

  Lily grinned and said, “Thanks, Dad. We will.”

  As I watched them walk over to green hair, I marveled at how grown up she looked. And yet, she was still a girl in a lot of respects.

  Shaking my head, I pulled back out into traffic. Two pretty sixteen-year-old girls-alone at a concert? What could go wrong?

  “‘Bout time you got here.” Padre was standing next to a barricade, channeling hundreds of young people into the convention center. “The rest of the guys have been here for almost two hours.”

  “Sorry, Padre. I had something personal come up. Did you get my text?”

  “Moves said somethin’ about it. You know I don’t check damn texts.”

  It was true. Padre was really old school in a lot of ways. “What’s going on here?”

  “So far there’s been no sign of trouble. Swole is at the north entrance with Dog, and Vlad and Moves are right across from the east entrance. Chalupa and Trainer are in the west parking lot with a clear view of that entrance. Yoda and the prospects are getting everyone coffee, and Pin is inside, watching the security cameras. You and me, we’ll stake out here at the south entrance.”

  “Cool. Any word on whether Las Balas are planning on showing up?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean they won’t. They don’t exactly forward us their itinerary.”

  I wasn’t expecting them either, since this was a straightforward security gig. But with those guys you never knew. They just liked to start trouble for the hell of it sometimes.

  Just then, about half a dozen LPPD bikes rolled up and parked far away from ours. Walking toward the entrance we were guarding, they completely ignored us, which was not surprising. Even though the top brass was okay with us working these events, the rank and file officers didn’t appreciate our presence at all.

  They went inside and we re-secured the rope that was blocking the gate.

  I looked at my phone and the concert would be starting in about fifteen minutes. I found myself wondering if Lily and Bailey had found their seats okay, but before I could text to make sure, I was distracted by a loud boom out over the water.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked Padre. It didn’t sound like fireworks. Before he could answer, our walkie-talkies started blowing up.

  “What the fuck was that?” Chalupa asked.

  “Was that a goddamn bomb?”

  “Everybody stay at your post!” Padre said. “It could be a diversion. It’s not here on the property so let the LPPD handle it.”

  We were all aware of the concert last year that ended in an active shooter killing a dozen people at a concert just like this one. The cops might not be too happy that we were here, but we didn’t give a fuck. Our presence was a major deterrent to shit like that happening.

  For the next ten minutes or so, Padre and I just watched as cop cars and fire engines and paramedics raced down the street in the direction of the explosion.

  Trainer rode up just then and parked his bike near where mine was.

  “Did you hear?”

  “That explosion? Yeah.” The sound of sirens wailing in that direction was unmistakable.

  “No. Not that. Hawk got some intel that the explosion was at the Las Balas compound. Looks like somebody blew up their warehouse.”

  I shot a glance in Padre’s direction. “Do we know anything about that?”

  “No, man. Must be Viper’s guys or somethin’.”

  “Well, they are sure the hell gonna think it’s us.”

  “Look, we are on a job. We don’t have time to be worrying about Las Balas or who may or may not have blown up their shit.” I zipped up my jacket and headed toward the convention center entrance. “Trainer, you stay here with Padre. I’m going to go inside and see what Pin is seeing.”

  I just hoped that whatever was going on with Las Balas, they’d leave Outlaw Souls out of it.

  The tension in the security room was as thick as the clam chowder at Tiny’s. They’d heard the explosion, too, and had stepped up surveillance inside the arena where the concert was going on. At the moment, Billie Eilish was still on stage as the opening act, but MCR was going on in about twenty minutes.

  “What’s the latest?” I asked Pin

  “So far everything is going as planned. No one doing anything suspicious that we can tell.”

  Given the fact that the small room was jammed with cops, venue security, and us, it looked like they were expecting a problem.

  “What was the explosion, do we know yet?” Pin asked.

  I lowered my voice so that only he could hear. “Hawk said that someone blew up the Las Balas compound.”

  “Shit. They’re gonna think it was us.”

  “I know. So that’s why I came in here. You need to keep a close eye out for any of their guys, because they are gonna be looking for some serious revenge. The cops won’t necessarily think of that and we don’t want to call attention to it, so let’s just all be on the lookout.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  I wondered if Scorpion knew where Lily and Bailey were sitting. Maybe I ought to just go check and make sure they were okay.

  When it was decked out for a concert, the convention center could seat about 12,000 people. Bailey had gotten them floor seats (further evidence that she came from money) and they were about a third of the way back from the stage. The security room was underground in a maze of tunnels that led to various parts of the venue. It was how celebrities and other notables got in and out without being seen.

  I was walking down a long, brightly lit hallway with cement walls and shiny white tiles, headed to the entrance that would get me closest to the stage when a door opened and four guys came out, escorted by three security people. I immediately recognized the middle one as Gerard Way, the lead singer of My Chemical Romance. His posters had been plastered all over Lily’s bedroom for years. She was going to shit when I told her I met him.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey,” he said, as we all started walking in the same direction. His voice sounded a lot higher than I thought it would.

  “Good luck tonight, guys. It’s a full house out there,” I said. It seemed lame, but I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Thanks. I love it when people come out to see us.” He smiled and seemed like a really down-to-earth person.

  “What does your jacket say?” asked one of the other guys. I wasn’t up on my MCR knowledge and I didn’t honestly know who he was.

  “Outlaw Souls.” Our logo was a pair of angel wings and over it was a pair of handcuffs where the halo would have been.

  “You’re an MC?”

  “Yeah.” We were approaching the door to the stage. I was going to keep going a bit to get to the audience level.

  “We’re in MCR,” said another guy.

  “Practically the same thing,” said the fourth and they all laughed.

  “Well, thanks for watching out for us. We appreciate it,” Gerard said.

  “It’s the least I could do. My sister is convinced you’re going to marry her someday.” Nevermind the fact that Gerard was in his forties and already married and had a kid.

  “Aw. That’s sweet.” He then took the hair tie out of his hair and gave it to me. “Give this to her. I’d sign it, but… you can’t really sign a hair tie and that’s all I have.” It was black leather and said MCR. />
  Lily was definitely going to freak out. “This will mean a lot to her, thanks.” I stuffed the hair tie in my jacket.

  The door to the stage opened and we could hear Billie thanking the audience. The lights would come up and it would be my opportunity to check on Lily and Bailey without them knowing I was there.

  Twenty-Four

  Paige

  I couldn’t help it, but I kept watching the clock. The romantic mood of earlier had dissipated and I just felt edgy and anxious. Was it all the stuff with Ryder? Was my gut instinct telling me to slow down with him? Maybe wait before jumping into bed?

  I honestly couldn’t tell. It was about 9pm and I imagined the main performance would be starting about now. My apartment felt really stuffy and I wanted to get out of here. But I really didn’t have anywhere to go. The girls would be home by midnight and I didn’t want to spend the money on a movie or anything. I didn’t really have any friends and my parents lived too far away. And they thought I was at the concert with Bailey.

  I’d spent about an hour fleshing out a business idea that I wanted to run by my dad, but it would have to wait.

  There was nothing on TV either. Why the hell did we pay for 400 TV channels when there was never anything on other than Guy Fieri, news, sports, or movies from 2002?

  Turning it off, I grabbed my car keys. Maybe I’d head out to Southgate Martinez and pick up some snacks for the girls to have tonight when they got home. If their concert experience was anything like mine was, they’d definitely have the munchies when they got back.

  Since Southgate was at the intersection with Tiny’s on one corner, the Blue Dog Saloon on another, and the gas station on the third corner, I had a good view of everything going on. Tiny’s was closed, as a lot of our customers were senior citizens and it wasn’t cost-effective to stay open past 8:00 pm. The Blue Dog was pretty empty too, probably because the Outlaw Souls were doing security for the concert. It was just a quiet Saturday night in the ‘hood.

  As I was walking inside, my phone buzzed. The caller ID said it was my mom, but I knew I couldn’t answer the phone because she thought I was at the concert. I sent her to voicemail and then walked in the store.

  All of the signage in the entire store was in Spanish. I’d taken it in high school, but really didn’t know it very well. If I were going to stay in this community, I should probably learn it, I figured.

  Grabbing a cart, I made my way through the bakery, successfully avoiding the delicious-looking pan dulce and other pastries. What would they like? Maybe I’d get something sweet and something savory. I swung back and picked up two bright pink sweet breads, a package of cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and headed over to the tortilleria to grab the ingredients for soft tacos.

  “Hola. Como estas?” I turned around and this guy was standing way too close to me. He smelled like beer and weed, and his greasy hair was slicked back in an attempt to look cool. But I could see flecks of dandruff.

  He was way too close, so I took a step back and gave him that social nod thing and kept walking.

  “No habla espanol? You don’t speak Spanish?” He was following me, holding a thirty-two ounce bottle of beer.

  I really didn’t want to talk to him so I just ignored him and kept walking. He didn’t give up and kept following me.

  “What’s the matter, blondie? You think you’re too good to talk to a cholo?”

  “Look. I’m just trying to do some shopping here. Why don’t you go do the same?”

  “You bitches are all the same.” He shook his head and muttered something in Spanish as he walked toward the register.

  My tension level went down and I went to go grab some freshly-made guacamole to go with the tacos. See? It’s all about projecting an air of confidence. I could handle myself in this neighborhood just fine.

  Fifteen minutes later, my cart was loaded up with snacks and drinks and stuff to make a late dinner when the girls got home. It cost me $30 that hadn’t been in my tight budget, but that was okay. I wanted Bailey and Lily to have a good time.

  The hatchback to the Honda was open and I was quickly putting the bags in when that same guy from inside the store stepped out from behind the van that was parked next to me. He was holding the beer, but it was almost empty.

  “You ready to party, blondie?”

  My stomach lurched in fear. The parking lot was basically empty and there wasn’t anyone around to help me.

  “Leave me alone.” I quickly reached up to grab the hatchback so I could get the hell out of there.

  “What’s the matter, blondie? You don’t like Mexican food?” He laughed at his own joke and held up the beer bottle. “I saved you a drink.”

  My hands were shaking as I grabbed my keys. I’d seen a video where you could punch someone in the eyes with keys that were wedged between your fingers. I just wanted to get in my car and leave, honestly.

  My free hand reached out to grab the car door and he slammed me up against the car, facing away from him.

  His hot breath was on my ear and I could feel him pressing against my back, pinning me against the car. “You’re being rude, blondie. Don’t be a bitch.”

  My mouth went dry with fear. Was he going to rape me right here in the parking lot? “Please let me go.” I didn’t like how scared I sounded.

  He grabbed me by the waist and pumped his pelvis into my rear end a few times, like a dog dry humping a pant leg. He took one hand and grabbed my throat so hard I thought I was going to choke.

  “Trust me, Blondie. You’d be begging me not to let you go. But I ain’t playing like that.” He let me go, staggered back a few feet, laughing and looking at me.

  My whole body was shaking as I pulled open the car door and climbed inside, locking it behind me. I could see him still standing there, just laughing and drinking beer.

  “It’s your loss, Blondie. You go and tell all your rich bitch friends that you had some prime Mexican meat and you threw it away.” He then went back into the shadows as I started my car.

  I was hyperventilating and crying by the time I pulled out onto Berry avenue. I didn’t want to pull over. I just wanted to get home.

  Twenty-Five

  Ryder

  I opened the door to the floor section of the convention center just as MCR were coming onstage. Because of that, the whole place was sheer madness. Everyone was standing and screaming and holding up phones. The room was dark, except for laser lights flashing. The sights and sounds were intense.

  There was no way I’d be able to find Lily and Bailey in this chaos. They did have assigned seats, but every single person in the venue was out of their seat. It was a security nightmare.

  I retreated back into the relative quiet of the hallway. I figured I’d try and contact them another way, so I pulled out my phone.

  Having fun? Text me and show me how great your view is!

  Unfortunately, the reception here was terrible and there was a red check next to the message that told me that the message didn’t go through. I’d have to go outside and retry it, but for now I was just going to have to trust that Lily and Bailey were fine, that they’d made it here okay.

  Time to get back out and find Padre to see what was going on. Even though everything seemed to be going smoothly, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen. I didn’t know what, and I didn’t know with whom. But my spidey sense was up.

  The air smelled like burning rubber when I stepped outside the doors of the convention center. “What’s up?” I asked Swole as I passed her checkpoint.

  “That fire is still burning by the waterfront and half of the LPPD are out there. It’s a good thing we’re here, because as of the moment, there’s not enough cops if something did go wrong here.”

  “That’s the thing that concerns me, Swole. I can’t help but wonder if the explosion and fire were some kind of diversion for something else that’s about to happen.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Exactly.”

  I patted her
arm and mentally marveled again at her rock hard biceps. “You keep an eye out. I’m gonna go talk to Padre.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Since the concert was in full swing, there weren’t very many people outside the venue. I could hear thumping and applause coming from inside, and sirens coming from the waterfront fire.

  As I approached him, Padre’s back was to me and he appeared to be alone. Where the hell was Trainer? Someone was supposed to be with Padre at all times.

  I was about to ask, but I heard his voice speaking softly and he was on the phone.

  “Yes, it’s under control. I told you it would be. You just handle things on your end and let me worry about mine.”

  I stepped on a soda bottle and it made a crunching sound, which alerted Padre to my presence. He whipped around and then said, “I’ll bring some milk on the way home.” Ending the call he said, “What did you find, Ryder?”

  Where was Trainer? Was Padre really on the phone with his wife, or was he pretending? What was under control? The lack-of-milk situation didn’t seem to warrant hushed tones.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Inside. With Pin. Is everything okay there?”

  “Oh, yeah. Fine.” I looked around. “Where’s Trainer?”

  “He had to go take a leak.”

  I shook my head. So much for keeping an eye on Padre.

  Just then, Trainer walked up. “There you are!” he said to Padre. “Where the fuck did you go?”

  “I was using the can. You got a problem with that?” Padre said.

  The whole scene was confusing me. Trainer was looking for Padre, but Padre said Trainer went to the bathroom. Who was looking for who?

  Suddenly, all of our walkie talkies lit up at the same time.

  “Something is happening. Get in here NOW!” Swole said,