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My laughter vibrates right through me as he drives down a narrow road leading to a large parking lot. The place we pull up in front is a two-story, red-and-black brick building with a large sign in front reading La Pista de Baile—The Dance Floor.
“Stay here and keep the car running. If you have to leave without me then do it.” He hands me a knife. “I'm not sure I trust you with a gun yet. Even this is pushing it.”
I grin. “Thank you, Daddy. Now when you ask me if I have a knife on me in the shower, I will.” I wink and he laughs as hegets out of the car. “Honk the horn if you see anything, and don't leave the car.”
“Got it.” I lock the door and he disappears inside, leaving his phone behind. After listening to five songs and playing a game, I grow impatient and worried. Nerves form into what feels like a boulder in the center of my stomach the longer time goes by without me seeing Antonio walk out the front entrance. I grip my knife, searching around the parking lot, and I freeze when I hear a man laughing outside of the restaurant next door. The sound is so loud it cuts through the glass of the quiet car.
I'd know that laugh anywhere. My ears can't be hearing right. He gets closer to the club with an older man hooked on his arm and looks at me for a brief second before facing his friend again. Those blue eyes. Bright with a little gold in them like mine. His dirty blond hair is blowing in the slight breeze and when he turns around he has a familiar birthmark on the back of his elbow. It's so large and hard to miss, just like my brother's was.
My heart stammers and I place my hand on the door, taking sharp breaths. Before I can open the door to follow him, Antonio appears, saying something to the blond man on his way out. Looking around, he quickly walks my way and I unlock the doors. Slipping in beside me, he grabs his phone and types fast across the screen.
“What's happening?”
“I'm having Fernando check out a few names for me. The man we're looking for isn't there and hasn't been seen in weeks. He only comes by when it's time to meet clients.”
“So it's safe to go inside?”
“What?” His brows bunch together. “Of course not. We don't know if he has friends around or not. The bartender inside was acting strange the whole time, and there's no telling if he's letting EG know I was looking for him at this very moment.”
“These names you got. Are they easier to find than he is?”
“Yes. Very much so. The only person willing to talk to me was one of the dancers. Something told me he wasn't there because he had a choice.”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I blurt out.
“We'll stop somewhere else.”
“No. I have to go now. I'm also really thirsty.”
He rests a hand on my shaking knee. “What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone?”
I don't want to tell him who I saw until I'm sure. What if I'm wrong? People don't just rise from the dead, and I was there at the funeral. I saw them lower my brother into the ground. Everything Antonio is saying now sounds like static in my ears.
I flinch when he strokes my cheek, feeling on edge. I have to get inside the club. I have to know. If my brother is truly alive then it means I never lost him and… and someone faked his death. But why? He looked at me but there was no recognition in his eyes. The tinted windows probably didn't give him a clear view. I wanted to roll down the window to shout his name but was temporarily paralyzed from shock and confusion.
“Baby. Look at me. Tell me what's going through that mind of yours.”
“I'm feeling lightheaded. I think I went too long without eating. That's all. Can we go somewhere to eat?”
“I think we should wait—”
“Please. Somewhere close by. I can't wait. I can't be in this car anymore.” I slam my hands on my legs.
“Yeah. Sure. I'll just make sure we aren't being followed.”
Struggling to keep his eyes off me, he stops at a restaurant not far from the club. He's constantly looking over his shoulder and out every window when we're seated.
“I'm going to go to the bathroom. I'll be back.”
“Need me to go with you?” He glances up from the menu.
“No. I'll be quick,” I say, briefly kissing his lips and using the distraction as an opportunity to snatch his keys from his pocket. Once I'm in the bathroom, I go inside a stall and crack the window open above the toilet. Lifting myself up, I crawl out of the small space and jump onto a trash can on my way down, nearly losing my balance. I hurry to his car, ducking when I pass the window he's sitting by. He's too busy talking to a waitress to notice me slipping in the car. With shaky hands, I stick the key in the ignition and drive straight to the club, taking all the turns I remember him making.
He'll catch on soon enough, so I have to hurry. The last thing I want is for him to think I'd run from him permanently. I need to know if my eyes were playing tricks on me and I was only seeing what I wanted to see. Of course my heart is hoping I did. My brother might be alive. My last memories of him no longer have to live only in my head.
Stopping the car in front of the club, I jump out and rush inside.
“Hold it there. You got an ID?”
