One
Moves
I heard the incessant whirring of my phone, sunken deep beneath the covers of my bed while I subconsciously tried to go back to sleep. Something clicked inside my mind, jolting me up while I fished around to retrieve it. I hurriedly answered it, waiting for it to connect after I’d listened to the voice of the operator asking me if I’d like to accept the charges.
“Hello?” I asked, trying not to sound as though I’d only just awoken.
“Hey, it’s me,” the voice on the other end of the line said, the connection of the call barely hanging on by a thread, but I recognized the voice. “I’ve gotten myself into a little bit of trouble here. Look, I’ve only got one phone call, and they’re riding me pretty hard here. It’s not often one of us gets pulled in like this. I’m sorry to ask, Moves, but I need your help,”
“You know I don’t let people call me that anymore, Chalupa. When Padre died, I made everyone promise to stop calling me that, out of respect. Please honor that. I know you don’t have much time, but I’ll get you out. We’re all family, remember?” I reminded him, knowing quite well that there would be no way I’d leave him behind.
“I’m sorry, and I know I shouldn’t even bring this up, but do you even remember why Padre gave you the name ‘Moves’ in the first place?” I sighed, but I knew exactly what he was getting at.
“I do remember, Chalupa. It’s been hard after his death is all,” I confessed.
“I know, but I think you should keep it. Honor Padre with the name he gave, and make it mean something, man,” said Chalupa, and I nodded my head on the other end of the line even though I knew he couldn’t see me.
“Okay, you have a point. Now I want you to relax, all right? I’ll be there to come get you as soon as I can,” I replied.
“I’m just a little over my head here. I don’t know what to do. I’m not going to last in prison, man.” I could hear the fear in his voice, but I wasn’t going to let it come to that.
“Whatever is going on, I’m going to get to the bottom of it. I need you to hang tight. They’re not going to let you out of there until morning at least, so you stay strong, okay? I’ll make sure you have a place to go once I get you out of that hellhole.” My words seemed to calm him down a bit.
“Thank you, Moves,” he said, hanging up the phone, and I could feel the reluctance through the line. I knew what it was like for him to be scared, especially because the police were always trying to ride our asses, and I could tell that he was far from innocent. I taught many of the men riding in the Outlaw Souls that we needed to cover our tracks, because the more we had the LPPD hounding us, the harder it would be to go about living our normal lives. I had faith that everything was going to be fine, but I needed to keep my head on straight, take care of a little business first before I managed to head back to bed.
I’m no use to Chalupa right now because they won’t even let me post his bail this early.
I hated leaving him in there, but there’s really nothing else I could do.I decided to head over to the small fridge in my dingy apartment, grab a beer, and head out back to give my bike a tune-up.
I wonder what they did with yours, Chalupa. There’s no way we’re gonna risk breaking it out if it's been impounded.
Looking down at the hunk of metal before me, I reminded myself that it was these bikes that bound us together for life. We were a family, and no amount of pain or grief was going to change that.
I wasn’t the same person after I lost my parents, and I struggled to keep my head above water sometimes, especially now that the police were hot on our trail. I sat under the moonlight, feeling the cool air of approaching dawn brush against my skin while I got to work. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, making sure everything was in pristine condition before heading back inside to sleep off the rest of my frustration.
The Outlaw Souls had marked our territory in La Playa, and it was the only place that ever felt like home to me. No matter how much trouble we got ourselves into, how many drug deals went wrong, or how much money we lost, we always had each other’s backs.
I had to make sure that I got Chalupa out of there before something bad happened. If the police had any solid evidence against him, this was going to be one hell of a ride.
I wondered what he could’ve done that led the police to his tail, but I could’ve already guessed. I worried that, with Chalupa locked up, there were going to be some members who were going to want to halt business until it was taken care of, but I wasn’t sure that many of them knew what had happened.
It’s probably best I keep things under wraps until I know for sure where all of this is headed.
I couldn’t fall back asleep, my eyes catching sight of the steady stream of sunlight filtering in through the patched window in my bedroom while I tossed the covers aside, running my hand through my sweat-doused hair, ready to get Chalupa out of jail.
Next time, I hope you do a better job keeping things on the low, Chalupa, because I’m not sure how many more lies the LPPD is going to believe before they start hunting us down one by one.
Two
Lacey
The day started out like normal, sitting at my desk going through an obscene amount of paperwork, holding the pen between my teeth while I scrambled to get everything done in a timely fashion.
I’ve been a prosecuting attorney for the City of La Playa for such a long time that I sometimes forget how heavily involved I get in every case I take, and I’m certainly one that likes a full catalogue of solved cases rather than letting some slip through the cracks.
Everyone in my life had always told me that I needed to let loose every once in a while, and that I shouldn’t let work consume my entire life, but the truth was if I wanted to continue being good at my job, I had no choice. It wasn’t often that the cases I took on were free of thrills, and there was usually something new to be discovered at every corner. We had a pretty good dynamic going in the office, and the criminals we prosecuted didn’t often get away with their crimes.
I was sitting at my desk when I heard a knock on my door. It was the ADA himself, slipping in with a cup of hot coffee in his hand, the steam rising up into his face.
