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I’m so mad I could shoot him.
He’s an idiot.
A beautiful, hot idiot that I’m going to save.
Everyone, including Diego, looks at me like I’m an alien. I cock the gun.
“You’re letting my man go now, or I’ll shoot . . .” I swing the gun to the one with the gold tooth. “This one first.”
He holds out his hands. “Mamacita . . .”
“Fuck you.” I look around to make sure no one’s moving, and when I see Diego’s no longer looking at me but at everyone else, I focus in on gold tooth. “You threatened to rape me and do God only knows what. You tried to drug my drink. Not cool as the kids say.”
“Elroy,” he says. “When—”
“Elroy, this mamacita knows how to use a fucking gun and doesn’t take kindly to the threat of rape. So, make one move, and I’ll shoot him in the balls.” I lower the gun. “We’re getting out of here. Diego . . .”
He might be strong and know how to fight but there are about eight in here, and gold tooth has a knife. One has a wrench, and another’s holding a broken part of a chair. And Elroy . . . oh, I want to shoot him, because he’s got a piece of pipe in his hand.
Not even a badass like Diego can take on all these guys with weapons. It seems the first round didn’t go so well because most of them are bleeding or have black eyes or swollen lips, so they were . . . what? Going to beat the shit out of him with weapons? This is the life my nephew chose.
I carefully push the hysteria down and find whatever it is that passes as Zen.
“Diego? Get up now.”
“Fuck.” He gets up, faster and more smoothly than I would have thought, and he takes his gun and puts the clip in place. He points his gun at the one other guy.
“We’re going and if you have anything to do with my nephew he’s out of the gang.”
“Mamacita,” gold tooth says, “He’s not with us. Came here with a delivery. Yo, tell your bitch that ain’t how gangs work.”
“You’re braver than I thought,” Diego says, taking my arm and pulling me back as he heads to the exit, not turning his back on them. “Calling a pissed off lady names.”
“I’ll fuckin’ destroy you and the bitch,” the guy says. “De Luca or not, you don’t know who you’re messing with.”
Diego opens the door. “Why don’t you fuckin’ enlighten me.” He shoves me through it.
“Trouble, that’s who. And I know where they live, and what crew the kid messes with. Trouble’s coming. For you.”
The door slams. “Get in your car and go straight home. I’ll meet you there.”
* * *
Diego’s there on the pavement already as we pull in. The whole drive, Jay sat hunched in, silent.
“You’re a goddamned fuckin’ fool,” he mutters before motioning us to the door.
Once there, he takes my keys and unlocks it before doing a sweep.
“I can take care of myself, Diego.”
“Who’s Diego? And—” Jay shuts up as I whirl to glare at him.
“Kitchen. Now. Milk, herbal tea, or water.”
He shoots Diego a long look and then back at me. “Cookie?”
Jesus, how they bounce back. I’m about to say no but I can see the guilt and fear in him and maybe his bounce is more for show than real. “Sure.”
