12. Rio
Saint and I showered together again, his taller body pressed into my back as he ran soapy hands down my chest. We almost had a second round in there, but better judgment prevailed and we merely enjoyed some wandering hands and heated kisses.
We got dressed and decided to try one of the other places we had seen for breakfast. It was a weekday, and there were only a few people, with the demographics pretty evenly split between seniors having cream of wheat and liver and onions, and tourists scrolling their phones. Saint and I sat opposite of one another and I watched him tap the table, then begin to run his fingertips over the surface. The call from his sister had worked him up, understandably. I waited until the waitress had taken our orders, then covered his hand with mine. “Do you wanna go for a walk, find something to draw later?” I asked.
Saint frowned lightly. “Really? What would you do while I’m drawing?”
“I could watch you, or maybe whatever you draw is something I’d like to do or is near something I’d like to do. I wouldn’t mind finding a basketball court and shooting some hoops.”
Saint brightened. “You play too? I’d like that.”
“Of course I play,” I said with a laugh. “It was the other religion in my neighborhood.” I eyed him up. He was tall enough to play, certainly, and I knew what was under the Columbia T-shirt he’d put on. I bet he would be decent. “You up for one on one later?”
Saint’s face morphed into a truly wicked smile. “Sure… with some basketball as the warm-up?”
I threw my head back and laughed. “You’re on, Durand, you’re on.” ***
We found a basketball court easily and nodded to the three boys who were already there. They were gangbangers, I was almost sure, but the kind who watch Cribs and smoke weed rather than the kind who do drive-bys. In any case, they stood up and approached us. “Wanna play?” The tallest one asked.
“Sure,” I answered, putting myself just ahead of Saint. The one who had asked jerked his chin and grinned, and one of the others tossed me the basketball.
They played well, but of the group of us I was the best – and I”m not just saying that. Saint and I won the first round, they won the second, and we won the third. Afterwards, the shorter of the other men nodded to us. “Good games, bro.”
“Si,” I replied. “Gracias.”
We parted ways and passed a convenience store on the way back to the motel. I was eyeing him up, his damp T-shirt showing off the flat, defined muscles of his back and almost stumbled when he stopped. “Drinks?” Saint asked, gesturing towards the store.
“Sure.” We headed inside, and after a minute of contemplating the soda pop selection, Saint sighed. “I”ll be back in a minute,” he said and headed for the restroom.
I was loitering in the potato chip aisle when someone clicked their tongue next to me. “Man, Rio, what are you doing?”
I frowned, looking up quickly. “Eddie? Is that you? What–”
“Don”t worry about that.” Eddie said, waving his hand. “Man, what are you doing getting into this shit? You”re gonna get yourself shot.”
I frowned. “What? I”m–”
“Playin’ bodyguard for a pimp, bro, and they got Fernandez”s daughter in there. Are you nuts?” Eddie looked truly distressed, his body language agitated and urgent.
“What the fuck?” I asked. “You know I wouldn”t guard a pimp,” I hissed. “Especially if there was an underage girl.”
“Fernandez has it through channels. Saint Durand is running a whorehouse with the kids and he got Fernandez”s daughter. There”s a motherfucking BOLO.” Eddie punctuated his words with rapid hand gestures.
“Eddie, I worked there. I saw it. There”s nothing like that,” I said, dragging him off to the quiet corner when another patron lifted their head to listen to us. “The girl is gay and she ran away. He wants her back, along with this big shot from Washington State. The place is homeless kids and runaways because their parents didn”t like their gender choices.”
Eddie frowned at me and I looked him in the eye. Eddie was my cousin. We used to be friends when we were kids, but he had turned to lower-level gangs and I had found my path elsewhere.
“Are you sure?” He finally asked, glancing towards the bathroom. I wondered what was taking Saint so long but I was glad he wasn”t listening to this conversation.
“Si. I promise you. Look, I don”t know where you stand on sexuality but Saint”s doing a good thing there, okay? They”re working on schooling and learning how to cook and they”re safe.”
Eddie”s lips pinched. “Alright, alright man. Look, the fact is that”s the rumor and that”s the shit. Keep your head down, especially if you”re telling the truth.” He clapped me on the shoulder and ducked out just as Saint rounded the end of the aisle.
Saint frowned at me. “What happened?”
I shook my head. “I”ll tell you in the room. Let”s get our drinks and get going.”
***
“My cousin Eddie talked to me when you were in the can,” I said as soon as we got to the room. “The story is you’re pimping the kids out, and you have Fernandez’s daughter. All the Fernandez allies are going to have a bullseye on your back.”
Saint’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. Before he could say anything I put my hands on his shoulders. “I told Eddie it wasn’t true, and I think he believed me, but the gangs aren’t going to. We need to move again if they know we’re here.”
Saint’s mouth opened and closed several times and I stayed the way I was, looking into his blue eyes. Slowly he began to shake his head. “No. They– No. Rio, what the fuck. We need to go back, if the kids hear about that they’re–”“No,” I said as firmly as I could. “We are not going back to LA, especially after that. We’re going to find another little town, and we’re going to keep our heads down while Marcus and Lee work their magic on who is where doing what.”
Saint shook his head again but I squared up. “Michael,” I said, channeling my old drill sergeant as I said his name. “If we go back, it’ll draw them closer to the kids. We. Can’t.”
Saint wore a look of absolute shock, and for a minute I wasn’t sure if it was because of the way I was speaking to him or from what I was telling him. I gentled my tone. “Let me protect you,” I said. “We’ll find another little town, we’ll touch base with Marcus again, and we’ll keep our heads down while they work. There are a lot of people who are on your side, we just have to give them a chance. In the meantime, I’ll take care of you.”
Saint shifted, obviously at war with himself, his eyes searching my face. “Please?” I said again. “You are my priority, Michael.”
Slowly, so slowly, Saint nodded. “Fine. Yes. You’re right. We’ll find another town and we’ll go.”
“Thank you, Saint.” I wasn’t sure if he would give in at first, and I was so pleased that he had.
I called Lee after we talked. Saint was drawing on the bed after I nudged him in that direction, and I was pacing a bit by the window drinking my Coca-Cola. Lee answered with an ”Oh fuck, now what?” and I almost choked on my soda pop.
“Christ, Lee,” I said when I could breathe.
”You’re the one calling people while you’re multitasking,” Lee said, unrepentant. ”What happened? You don’t call me unless something happens.”
I told him everything that Eddie had said, nearly word-for-word, which was somewhat unusual for me. I wasn’t sure if there was something in all of it that Lee could use, though.
Lee sighed. “I’ll have some of Marcus’ special contacts look into this. No word from Ginny?”
“Just the phone call this morning I texted you guys about. I have to wonder if she actually does have a recording or if she’s just having us on. I could see either. She has a passing acquaintance with reality at best.”
“Trust me, I know,” Lee said. “I have the trace on it. I’ve seen some other LA drive-bys, but not that one yet. If she calls again, tell her that you don’t believe she has one, see if she’ll get stupid.”
“I’ll think about it.” I wasn’t keen on goading her too badly. I wasn’t interested in finding out whether she was actually a ‘shit shot’ or not.
“Let me know where you two end up. I assume you’ll leave early in the morning?”
“Probably. I’m going to look at possibilities shortly,” I said.
“Good enough. Be careful, Rio.” Lee’s voice was serious.
“Always am,” I said. “Thanks, Lee.”
When I hung up, Saint looked up at me. “Nice of Eddie to tell you all that,” he observed, not moving the pad of paper off his lap.
I nodded. “We used to be tight when we were kids. How are you doing?”
Saint shrugged. “How should I be?” He closed his book and stood up, stretching. “So we move in the morning?”
I nodded. “Let’s check out some possibilities,” I said, pulling out my phone. We settled on San Julio, three hours northwest of Sierra Junction, booked a room as a couple on Saint’s credit card, and then sat for a few minutes.
“I hate this,” Saint said after a short time, looking at his blank phone screen.
I nodded. I wasn’t sure what to say to make him feel better, so I settled on shifting a little closer, and he leaned into me. I put my arm around him and we sat together and just breathed.