The trailer that Paul owned, the one that Mercedes grew up in, and the one that Adam called home, all alight, turning black. The trailer that they all lived in, slept together in, and put all their best plans in motion was burning down right in front of their eyes.
It felt almost symbolic at this point. The last place that was his own, gone. After this, there would be nothing left for them physically, and very little left for any of them to give emotionally.
“No, no,” Mercedes whispered, before launching into a shout. “No!”
“What could—how could–” Carlos stuttered.
Adam stepped in front of the group, his temper like a kettle rising to a boil, getting louder and louder until it whistled, knowing that all his reckless emotions were about to take control of his good sense. “Dorian Blake did this.”
“All of our money, all our property was in there!” Dan said.
“What the hell are we going to do,” Carlos said. “That was our one last hideout, there’s no place to go now, we can’t hide from Dorian Blake.”
Mercedes dropped to her knees in the middle of the road, and Adam could see the control slipping from her face. After all, this had been her home much longer than it’d been his. Paul was the only one brave enough to approach her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder as he tried to pull her upright.
“The photo albums, everything we—I have to get it,” she said, and she started running toward the engulfed trailer. But Paul was there a second sooner, diving forward to grab her arms and stop her. She struggled against him, thrashing, fiercely trying to rip herself away, but he held strong until she whirled toward him and sobbed into his shoulder. He slid a gentle, calming caress down her back.
“We’ve lost everything now,” Carlos said. “We’re all gonna die.”
Carlos didn’t even sound sad about the fact. Just resigned. Like he knew that was always their outcome. And that broke Adam’s already damaged heart. He’d pulled Carlos and Dan out of their neighborhood after the slaughter, away from the Cortez Cartel, specifically so that theywouldn’thave to die for anyone else. Now... he’d basically asked them to die for him.
What a stupid, idealistic prick he’d been.
Words would simply not be enough for them to ignore the truth any longer. But Adam, oh, he still had a little bit of stupid left in him. He wasn’t done yet.
“Adam,” Paul said over Mercedes sobbing in his arms.
Reining in his wild rage with precise control, Adam attempted to quell his erratic breathing, his nostrils flaring and his eyes wide.
“Adam, I think it’s time to run,” Paul said.
“Never,” Adam said. “Over my fucking dead body.”
He meant it, too. The only way he was leaving Ridge City was in a body bag.
* * *
APRIL 1991
Mercedes had to play her part. She could very well be the First Lady of Ridge City, so she had to dress as such, no matter how much unlike her it really was. When she awoke in her hotel room in Darton, she made sure she had the tools to dress for the occasion. And a plethora of tools it did take to turn her rough interior into an exterior of elegance and grace.
Darton was a two-hour drive away, and hosted a heap of people more high class than could be found in Ridge City on a good day—Dorian included. Business with Darton was key to keeping the city running, which meant for one day she had to pretend to be classier than she felt.
Mercedes dressed in a set of baby blue sailor pants and a white beaded tank. She set her face with powder and her lips with a petal pink. Her dirty blonde hair was curled and waved. She had her six-carat diamond engagement ring on her finger, pearls on her ears, and as always, the infinity necklace at her chest.
She looked herself up and down in the full-length mirror and thought with a sigh how she didn’t recognize the person staring back at her. Touching the infinity necklace, she smiled as she held it tight. It was the last piece of herself that she could carry.
Dorian burst from the hotel bathroom, wearing only a towel and steaming from the shower.
“Darling, you’re friends with Paul, yes?” Dorian said, flicking the water from his hair.
What. The. Fuck.
She immediately froze, dropping her hand from her chest and wiping the lazily romantic look off her face. The game was on.
“Used to be friends with Paul.” She did her best to correct him. As far as he was concerned, she hadn’t seen Paul in years.
“Sure, and you used to bartend at the Neptune back in the day?” He was casual as he stripped out of the towel and dried himself.
