Page 51

Alex peered closer at the vials’ contents. The liquid inside was dark red—almost black under the lamplight. Alex’s stomach turned. He turned to Rafael. “What the fuck is this all about?”

When Rafael started towards him, a crash outside shook the floor. A long, drawn-out “Oh!” swelled into roaring. Alex glanced back at Rafael, and with a wordless exchange, they dashed downstairs.

The crowd had formed a tight ring near the entrance, fists pumping, voices raw. Alex followed Rafael as he shouldered through to the front. A guy was curled on his side near the wall, arms tucked, groaning. A few feet away, the bouncer from earlier was pinned on his back, someone on top of him throwing fast, brutal punches.

Alex’s pulse kicked. What the hell happened?

Rafael yanked Basa off the bouncer and hurled him backwards. The crowd split. Basa slammed into the bar counter with a sound that made everyone wince.

“Basa! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Rafael roared.

The music died. Whether someone killed it or the DJ read the room, the bass cut out, leaving nothing but ringing in everyone’s ears.

Nobody moved.

Basa slid down the counter with a hiss, clutching his back. Juan was already there, hauling him up.

Across the room, Eddie crouched by the bouncer.

Alex glanced over at the other guy, who was lying on the ground. His eyes widened with a curdling rage when he recognized his stupid face. He stormed over, grabbed the guy by the collar, and slapped him.

Another chorus of “Oooh” rippled through the room.

“Why the fuck are you here?!” he screamed, shoving Matt back to the ground.

Alex felt an arm hook around his neck from behind. He drove his elbow back into a gut, whipped around, and caught Basa square in the jaw.

“Alex!” Rafael caught his wrist mid-swing.

Alex twisted, threw another. Rafael caught that one too.

“Stop.” His grip was iron.

Alex tried to shake him off, causing his hood to fall. Several voices came from the crowd the moment they all realized who Alex was.

“Who the fuck is he?”

“Dude, shut up! That’s Aguila’s boy!”

“No fucking way. He looks like a pussy with that pink hair.”

“That’s why he’s Gangster Barbie. Pretty in pink.”

Basa groaned, getting up. He trained his bloodshot eyes at the bouncer and spat blood onto the ground. “Manny started it! We were just leaving,” he said, panting. When he moved to continue the fight, Juan grabbed his arm.

“¡Cállate!” Rafael roared.

No one moved. No one breathed. The silence sat on the room like a hand around its throat.

“You.” Rafael pushed Alex’s shoulder. “Get out. Now.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “What? Tío—”

“Don’t make this worse. You’re not a part of this anymore.” Rafael’s eyes were hard, but not cold. Not angry. Something else lived behind them that Alex recognized but couldn’t name. “Leave.”

Alex scrunched his nose. As much as he wanted to argue, he knew he was right. He was an outsider. Walk in, ask questions, walk out.

“Fine,” he said. He nodded at Matt, who was rolling himself up from the floor. “But let me handle this one.” Rafael raised an eyebrow as if he couldn’t believe he was serious. “And you deal with that one.” He nodded back at Basa.