“HOW IS IT THAT YOU get into a fight and I’m the one that’s got to ice.” Jesus leaned back along the sofa where he held the ice filled rag to his ribs.

Santiago rubbed absently at his swollen knuckles. Watching the TV screen intently. Oscar was caught by the police having spent the greater part of the last few months on the run. The newscaster listed off his crimes like a grocery list..

Assault and battery. Assault of a police officer. Resisting and evading arrest. Domestic abuse. Murder.

Santiago’s brows furrowed; they were pinning his own murder on the man. It should not surprise him that they would use the scum bag as a scapegoat. He deserved it.

Oscar was getting a life sentence without parole there was no doubt in anyone's mind about that.

It still bothered him though that the ones who actually killed him were still out there somewhere. He did not even know their faces.

Wooden legs screeched as Alejo dragged the chair over to where Santiago perched on the end of the couch. “I get you’re pissed and as much as that asshole deserves that beat down it’s not going to do anything to fix what’s actually wrong.”

“Like I need advice from a junkie—” Santiago snapped. “Figure out your shit before you stick your nose in mine.”

“Ay, man! Shut up!” Jesus said, “You wanna act like you ain’t to blame.”

“So I’m the one who stuck the needles in his arms? Don’t put that shit on me!” Said Santiago.

Jesus winced as he got to his feet flinging the rag to the floor sending ice shards scarting across the vinyl floor. “You let us think you were dead!”

“I didn’t know!”

“Well good for you asshole!” Jesus yelled back, glowering up at Santiago as he shoved at him. “We had a funeral for you, we cried for you, and when you came back we were exactly where we’ve always been right here! You think you get to treat us like shit because you’re caught up in your feelings. Fuck you, man.”

Santiago leered down at the boy, not backing down an inch.

“Jesus,” Alejo chided, a hand on his chest pushing him back. “Let it go.”

The boy was half Santiago’s size in every direction. Alejo knew he had to step in. He knew both of the boys well enough to know that if Jesus pushed Santiago far enough he would end up with a few less teeth.

It was far from a fair fight.

“No! Fuck that, you talk all that shit about Oscar and here you are acting just fucking like him!”

“HEY! ENOUGH!” Alejo shoved Jesus back onto the sofa, Santiago’s right hook catching only air. He gripped onto the boy’s shoulders forcing him back.

Alejo knew right now if Santiago really pressed him, he would not be able to hold him back. Quitting cold turkey did not do wonders for his health. Being so high he almost never ate and definitely was not lifting any weights. He was always exhausted. Now was half the size he used to be and only a fourth as strong as when Santiago died.

“Alejo back off. He wants to run his mouth, he better run them hands.” Santiago seethed pushing forward.

“Truth hurts doesn’t it?” Jesus said.

Santiago lunged past Alejo who locked his arms around his chest dragging him back.

“Jesus shut up!” Alejo hollered, beads of sweat forming on his brow as Santiago thrashed in his hold.

“Why are you telling me? You know I’m right!” Jesus laughed.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Marisol slammed the front door shut behind her, “I can hear you guys from the parking lot.”

“Your man needs to stop running his mouth.” Santiago snapped.

“Knock it off, both of you!” She threw the bags in her arms on the couch. Marisol could not let them out of her sight without them getting into some kind of trouble. Whenever she lost track of them all she had to do was follow the sirens. “What is this even about?”

“Him!” Jesus motioned to Santiago, “Boy who lived over here thinks he’s better than us now. Want to get mad because I’m calling him on his bullshit.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Santiago growled.

“Babe, stop.” She said exasperated. “This is crazy.”

“You think I’m lying, Alejo trying to talk him down and tell him to get bent because apparently he's just a junkie now.” Jesus laughed.

Marisol shook her head in disbelief, her eyes widened seeing Santiago turn away from her gaze. “Did you— Did you tell Alejo that?”

“Answer the question Yago!” Jesus hollered banging on the sofa armrest.

Alejo tentatively ease his hold on the boy to catch his breath.

“Santiago!” Marisol snapped, “Did you say that?”

“I was pissed, okay—”

“No! Not okay. He is one of your best friends.” She waved his excuse off with a finger, her voice reaching a fever pitch. “He got beat to within an inch of his fucking life trying to save you!”

“What?” Santiago looked at Alejo who faced away, setting the overturned chair upright.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“You didn’t tell him?” She smacked Alejo’s shoulder who simply shook his head. “You are all so hard headed! So focused on this bullshit machismo. Every time you get an emotion that isn’t hungry or horny you gotta fight somebody!”

Alejo had not mentioned anything to Santiago. The only thing he said was that he saw his body. It was hard enough to think about for him.

He had made the call. Told Santiago knowing full well he would come to take Oscar out. Alejo did not know how far he was going to take it. Had no idea that Santiago was out for blood. He had been across the street watching from his apartment window. Debating whether or not to get involved in dragging the old leech out.

When he saw the cops coming Alejo booked it downstairs. The cops made it in before he did. Hitting the street he heard them yelling. Could hear Gudelupe screaming for them not to shoot.

One. Alejo’s sneakers hit the curb.

Two. He leapt up the steps to the door.

Three. Alejo slid into the hall in time to see Santiago’s skull come apart.

There was so much blood.

He grabbed the first one, slammed his head sending out a blast of insulation and plaster dust. The second one wrenched the glock from their hands and beat them into unconsciousness.

Stumbling over his friend's corpse, Alejo laid his head on the bloodsoaked fabric clinging to Santiago’s back, sobbing over him until more came to drag him from the scene. Alejo was certain he would be joining his friend soon enough. In lock up they took turns beating him for what he had done to the other officers.

There was no way they were letting him out alive. People died in lock up all the time. Who would care about someone like him? The only one who did was dead too.

“Someone posted bail for me.” Alejo’s brow furrowed as he stared at the notches carved into the thrifted coffee table. “I don’t know how or why. Ain’t never seen so many pigs red in the face, they were all staring me down as I walked out.”

Santiago’s chest felt like a snake coiled around his lungs crushing him from the inside. “I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t ask.” Alejo chuckled, burying his face in his hands. “Thinking about it was hard enough. Kept replaying that shit over and over. I needed it to stop.”

Marisol rubbed his back, “It’s okay Alejo. It’ll take time, but you’ll get there.”

The soft brown eyes in a flash turned to hardened topaz as she glowered at the two of them. “If you two don’t stop acting like a couple of dogsI i'll cut your balls off like one.”

Santiago and Jesus locked eyes with one another.

They had both said and done stupid things that much was true. Jesus knew he had hit a sore spot for Santiago. That was the point. Jesus had not realized how betrayed he had felt by his friend until it all started to spill out at once.

Santiago could not believe how badly he lost sight of the most important thing in the world to him. His family. The one he chose.

He had hurt them so badly and had been so blind to it. Santiago was angry but it was not at Jesus. The boy had been right, the truth hurts.

“We good?” Santiago said.

Jesus' nose scrunched, but he relented. “We good.”

Marisol walked over, slapping them both in the back of their heads. “Now look, the nachos are spilled out in the bag. Go get some more before I get mad!”

“Ay,” Jesus grumbled as she threw the car keys in his lap. He pointed at Santiago, “You're paying for this shit.”

“When am I not?” Santiago said.

Jesus laughed.

----------------------------------------

Wooden door with foggy inlaid glass had been propped open allowing Bennett to enter the apartments lobby. The crimson patterned carpet stretched the length of the winding maze of hallways. Each hall with its own uniquely unpleasant odor, a mix of stale cigarette smoke, weed, or cooked fish. A faint echo of raised voices and sporadic bursts of laughter accompanied the symphony of booming music and televisions volume dialed up to max.

Reaching the apartment door with its chipped paint and hastily patched up crack, evidence of previous forced entries. A few solid knocks that resonated down the dimly lit hall.

He could hear the muffled sounds of shuffling footsteps and a faint television playing in the background. The walls were paper thin, allowing the neighboring apartments noise to sleep through.

Alejo swung open the door, a scowl plastered on his face as he looked the man over. “Whatchu you need homie?’

“I’m looking for, Santiago.” Bennett said. “I’m Bennett Gauthier—”

“You’re Bennett,” Alejo’s face cracked into a smile, “He told me about you. You look exactly how he said.”

Bennett did not know if that was a good or a bad thing and had no intention of asking. He knew a little about Alejo from his rap sheet which was impressively longer than Santiago’s. It was part of the reason he was annoyed with Thompson for allowing Santiago to stay here. It is a lot harder to keep out of trouble when the people around you are neck deep in it.

“Is he here? I need to talk to him.” Said Bennett.

“Nah, he was gone when I got home. Probably out looking for his ma again.”

The unfocused glaze in his eyes and the inability to keep his head up straight was enough to tell him something was not quite right. It was definitely more than the stink of alcohol leaking from his pores.

Bennett studied the boy, “Your friend hitting the streets looking for his missing mother and you posted up here.”

Alejo clicked his teeth, “He ain’t here so you can go.”

It made sense, with as tight a community as Santiago had it was strange that he had not gotten a line on his mother. The only way that would happen is if they either weren’t looking or were making sure she was not found.

“You know where she is.” Bennett scoffed, “Some friend you are, letting him run around like a fool because you are too much of a punk to tell the truth.”

Bennett knew that a lot of his own anger was misplaced. Unfortunately for Alejo, he managed to hit a nerve in the same way Bennett did with him. Misery loves company afterall.

“Hey fuck you!” Alejo launched through the door.

Bennett caught the boy pinning Alejo with his forearm. “You're gonna tell me where he went or I am going to call up your PO and tell him you need a drug test. You’ll be back in a group home by morning.”

Bennett’s patience for games was running razor thin. This kid had no idea how much danger he was putting Santiago in by having him hunting all over the city by himself. All the while lying to Santiago’s face.

Alejo sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I don’t know nothing.”

“We both know that's bullshit.” Bennett said, “You don’t want to tell me that’s fine.” Letting him go roughly the boy stumbled back bracing against the doorframe. “If something happens to that kid because of you, I will have your ass. Know that.”

That much was true. Bennett had about hit his limit with everyone and their secret agendas. Things never should have gotten this out of hand. Trusting the wrong people was another thing he shared with Santiago.

Bennett stalked down the hall.

Alejo’s breathing was unsteady as he glowered at the man retreating back before he slammed the door shut.