They could be on their way to kill me now.
How long before someone from Los Siete came after me? Carlos, Peter, Vargas, or even Kush if he survived. Knowing my luck, he probably did.
I was a dead girl walking. I was homeless, currently worth two nickels, and not even a legal adult. What the fuck was I supposed to do now? Javier made it clear that when I got out of Granby, my safest option was the furthest place from Los Siete. How the fuck was I going to get to the East Coast?
Even if I managed to get out of town, I couldn’t get a job because I didn’t have any documents required to get a legal one. I didn’t have any form of identification, my social security card…anything that was necessary to prove my identity and used to report for proper wages. And if I did, who was to say Carlos wouldn’t track me down and kill me to keep me quiet. The guilt only worsened when I realized I was in the same exact shoes as Javier when he was forced into gang work as a means to an end.
But what the fuck was Carlos on about? Some life debt my dad owed him? Why the fuck was he calling Javier, Jack? And how the fucking hell did I not know my brother was a snitch?
My head was spinning with too many thoughts. It was making me dizzy and breathless.
Fuck, I need you, Javier. I need you to tell me what to do. I need you to tell me where to go, tell me that it’s going to be okay, and tell me that I’m going to survive. Tell me to get my sorry ass off this bench and fight like hell to get out of Texas.
Five
October 5, Tuesday
Shiloh
Isat up in bed, my eyes adjusting to the darkness as I squinted towards the closet where I heard something loud enough to wake me.
“Javi?” I asked sleepily, rubbing my eyes to get them to focus.
He ignored me, but I knew it was him, the shape of his body more familiar than my own. I climbed out of bed and crossed the room, flicking on the light as I placed a hand on his shoulder.
He turned to face me with his lips curled in disgust.
My breath faltered at the intensity of his gaze. I glanced down at the object in his hand. A duffle bag, which he was filling with his clothes.
I tried to reach out and touch him, but he flinched away.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
His voice sounded cold, unfamiliar, filled with a malice he had never once shown me.
“Javi, what’s going on?” I asked, my voice wobbly like I was going to cry.
Why the hell am I about to cry?I swallowed past the lump of emotion in my throat.
Javier didn’t respond, just walked right past me, pulling open our bedroom door and walking out. I stared into the hall for a moment, trying to wrack my brain for a reason that he would be upset with me, before following him around the corner.
Javier continued to ignore my presence as he collected objects from around the living room. His phone charger, a pair of cuff links, his car keys.
“Javi, where are you going?” I asked. “Just come back to bed.”
He spun around so fast I stumbled backward, nearly knocking over the lamp beside the couch. Javi’s hand wrapped around my throat, the weight of it familiar and almost comforting. We never showed affection. But this…this I knew well.
A test. Although, I couldn’t figure out why he was pretending to leave if he was just going to choke me. His cologne filled the space around us as he studied me with a look I couldn’t quiet place. What was he waiting for?
“Don’t try to follow me,” he suddenly spoke.
The hell is he doing?
“I don’t understand,” I mumbled, staring into his brown eyes.
Javi’s hand tightened and the adrenaline finally kicked in as the air became harder to suck in.
I gripped his wrist and attempted to roll away, create some space, anything to fucking survive the test, but Javier used his free hand to punch me in the ribs.
