On the Edge (10 page)

IN THE END, I GOT IZ A JEWELRY BOX
from a Trinidadian street vendor. It wasn't your typical jewelry box—it was handpainted in bright colors and adorned with beads and feathers. The best part was that when you opened it, reggae music came out.

It was a relief, because I had a ton of newspaper stuff to finish. There was no way I'd admit that I was struggling to keep up. No way I'd show the weakness Ms. Halsall was expecting.

Thursday at lunch, I holed up in the library, choosing a study carrel in a faraway, quiet corner. I'd already spent twenty minutes going over Cassidy's article about the school's recycling program, and I was beyond bored.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone heading my way. I did a double take. “Who the hell let you in here?”

“You had me at
hell
.” Manny gave a crooked grin. “So much for a secure school, huh? All I had to do was flash some prison tats and they escorted me right in, red carpet all the way.”

“You're kidding me.”

“Half kidding. I know Gush, one of the guards. We went to school together. He told me you were back here.”

“Gush?” I'd thought I knew the names of the security guards, but I couldn't place him.

“He goes by Jenkins now, but to me he'll always be Gush. See, he used to pee his pants in grade school. Doesn't like being reminded, either.”

Manny grabbed a chair from a nearby study carrel, sat down backward, and scanned the area.

“I didn't stop by just to look at your pretty face, Diaz.” The usual Manny grin faded. “People are talking about you.”

“That's nothing new.”

“But they're saying strange things. Things that can't be true.”

“Spill it, Manny.”

“The rumor is that you have some connection to the cartel.”

“The
what
?” I said, far too loud, then caught myself. “How could anyone think that?”

“I guess you don't know what happened to the guys who jumped you.”

A wave of apprehension rolled over me. “Then fill me in.”

“The three Reyes who jumped you were kidnapped and their middle fingers were cut off.”

I felt like I'd been sucker punched.
“What?”

“It's the mark of death of El Chueco's cartel,” Manny said, almost apologetically. “See, once the fingers are cut, it means the next time someone in the cartel sees you, you're dead. Deal's done. So the guys who attacked you had to leave Miami fast. They had to go where they'd never risk running into a member of the cartel.”

My stomach felt queasy. Lobo must be responsible for this. Had he cut the fingers off himself, or had one of his guys done it? It was so brutal. And yet, other than killing them, this must've been the only way to keep them from coming after me again.

I remembered the fear on the faces of the Reyes at the greasy spoon last Friday night. Now I knew why. They thought I was linked to the cartel.

Another thought hit me like a freight train. What if the Destinos had cut the guys' fingers off for a completely different reason?

What if they
were
the cartel?

Or at least, working with them.

It made sense. Perfect, horrible sense. The Destinos' reason for being was to screw with Salazar and the Reyes, wasn't it?

Manny studied my face, waiting for me to say something.

“This explains a lot,” I said. “I ran into some Reyes last weekend and they seemed scared, like they really didn't want a confrontation.”

“I wouldn't either if I thought you were linked to the cartel.”

“This is unbelievable.”

“I know. You don't even look Mexican.”

But neither of us was laughing.

ME AND SOME FRIENDS GOT TO SCHOOL EARLY
for our birthday duties. We taped little red lipsticks to Iz's locker and wrote cute notes all over it. Then I slipped ten bucks to Candace Johnson, who did the morning announcements. Instead of the boring “Happy Birthday to Iz Moreno” crap, she promised to say, “Happy Birthday to the outrageous, outspoken, and never outdone Iz Moreno.”

Iz would love that. She showed up to school dressed like a birthday bombshell, and didn't resist when we put a red feather boa around her neck. I grinned as she sashayed toward her first class.

At lunch, we sang her “Happy Birthday.” Iz jumped up on the table, conducting us with the feather boa until Mr. Layton told her to get down before she fell and broke her neck.

On the bus home, Iz was pumped, because the best was yet to come. The plan was drinks at her place with the girls, then a swanky new pool hall we'd heard about. Rob would meet us there, and he'd assured us they didn't check ID.

I arrived on Iz's doorstep at eight thirty. I'd blocked off both of our birthdays ages ago. I hoped Iz liked her gift. But I could rely on her to pretend to like it even if she didn't.

Abby opened the door. “Hey, Maddie.” She had an awkward look on her face, as if I'd interrupted something. “Come in.”

Iz and Carmen were sprawled on the sectional, icy drinks in their hands. I was glad that Carmen was there. Iz would be pissed if she showed up late again.

“Hey, guys!” I said, but my words fell flat. They didn't seem happy to see me. I frowned. “Everything okay?”

Iz got up and walked over to me, hands on her hips.

“You were out with Julia the other night, huh?”

I frowned. “Yeah. Shopping for your gift.”

“I didn't know you guys hung out so much.”

“Are you being serious?” When I realized that she was, I turned to Abby for help. “I'm not sure what's going on here.”

“Eric told her you've been hanging out with Julia.” Her eyes said it all: proceed with caution.

I turned to Iz. “Julia and I hang out sometimes. It's not a big deal.”

“I just don't get why you always hid it from me,” Iz said. “It's like you thought I couldn't handle it.”

It was true, and she was proving that right now. “I didn't want you to think that I was gonna ditch you for her. I'd never do that. You know that, right?”

Iz crossed her arms. “Then why didn't you ever invite me along? I always invite
you
along when I'm going out.
Always
.”

From the couch, Carmen said, “Iz was there for you when Boyd was making your life miserable. And this is how you repay her.”

“Stay out of this, Carmen,” Abby snapped. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“Carmen's sticking up for me,” Iz said, jutting out her chin. “Which is more than I can say for Maddie.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “Since when don't I stick up for you?”

“I know Julia can't stand me. I tried to hang out with her when she first moved here, and she totally blew me off.”

I felt like I was walking into a minefield. I had sensed that Julia wasn't a big fan of Iz, but I could never say that. “Julia's never said anything bad about you. It's just that we're both into writing and stuff.”

“I don't care if you don't invite me along. You can hang with whoever the hell you want. But I don't appreciate you keeping things from me.”

My gut sank. I wasn't doing a good job of digging myself out of this. “Look, Iz, I'm really sorry. I thought it was better to keep things, you know, separate.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Whatevs. I knew you were gonna ditch me sooner or later.” She stalked back over to the couch to sit with Carmen, turning her back on me.

“C'mon, Iz,” I said. “We can talk about this another time. Tonight's about celebrating your birthday, right?”

No response.

“Iz . . .”

“Can't you give her some space?” Carmen fired back at me. “Jeez!”

Abby gave me a helpless shrug.

That's when it hit me.

This was my cue to leave.

When I got home, I realized I was still carrying Iz's birthday gift.

Oops, I probably should have left it.

Not that she would have wanted it anyway.

Mom was out with her friend Charlene tonight. That was a relief. I didn't feel like explaining what had happened. I wasn't even sure I could explain it.

Dex followed me up to my room, where I kicked off my shoes and put Iz's gift in my closet where I couldn't see it. I sat down on my bed.

This was the point where I was supposed to break down in tears.

But I didn't.

I'd never meant to hurt Iz. I'd only been trying to protect her from her own possessive streak. And though I was sorry it had gone down that way, I didn't feel I deserved the verbal bitch-slap I got.

I texted Abby:

I'd pictured Iz and me being best friends forever, racing our walkers at a nursing home someday. But I wasn't sure anymore. If this was how she reacted to my friendship with Julia, how was she going to handle my new social life at college?

The doorbell rang. Dex bolted down the stairs ahead of me. I wondered if it would be Iz and the girls in a cab, waving me in. Iz's mood could change on a dime.

But it wasn't Iz. It was Julia.

“Hey,” she said. “All dressed up and nowhere to go, huh?”

“Pretty much. Come in.”

We plunked down on the living room couch.

“Are you in as big trouble as Eric thinks?” she asked uneasily.

“Worse.”

“Shit.” Julia shook her head. “Eric feels horrible. He let it slip that you met up with us one time, and then Iz started firing all these questions at him.”

I shrugged. “It's a catch-22. If I'd told her we were hanging out, she would've been pissed off. And now she's upset that I never mentioned it.”

“The girl's trippin'. Eric said so himself. I know she's your best friend, but it's true.”

“She's freaked out because I'm going away to college. I think that's what's behind this.”

“Well, I told Eric to go without me tonight. Iz would probably hiss at me and throw holy water.”

I laughed. “You should go, Julia. You've got nothing to apologize for. Be nice and show her you have nothing against her.”

“Seriously?”

“Trust me. If you don't go, she'll think we're sitting here talking about her.”

Julia smiled. “Which we are.” She looked like she was about to get up, but then she stopped. “And Maddie, I'm sorry for all this. I never meant to come between you guys. I know what it's like to lose friends and . . . I'd never do that to you.”

“I know.”

I hugged her, then walked her to the door. “Now go get showered with holy water and call me tomorrow.”

I WOKE UP EARLY THE NEXT MORNING
and checked my phone to see if I'd heard from Iz. I'd texted her twice last night offering peace and more birthday wishes.

No reply.

I double-checked my phone. Nothing.

Silence from Iz was the kiss of death. It was the last trial her boyfriends had to suffer before she dumped them. Why was she doing this? I couldn't begin to understand it.

Unable to get back to sleep, I rolled out of bed and took a shower. After throwing on a T-shirt and shorts, I went downstairs. Dex was already there, head bent into his doggie bowl. It was 6:25 a.m. and the sun wasn't fully up. Neither was Mom.

I slipped on my flip-flops, put on Dex's leash, and we headed out.

There was something about early morning walks. Since it was Saturday, the whole neighborhood was still asleep except for a handful of elderly people tending to their flower beds. The weather was blissful, warm but not yet hot, with a faint breeze. As we walked, you could see the shadows lift over the streets as the sun came up.

Dex loved an early walk too. It was the only time he owned the streets. There were few people around—especially men—to put him on edge.

We passed Sasso's, and I squinted to see if Ortiz was working. He wasn't. Good. I tied Dex and went in, pouring myself a large, dreamy-smelling hazelnut coffee. When I approached the register, I heard Dex barking. A couple of burly bikers had parked in the lot—leather clothes and leathery skin, studded up and bandannaed. I groaned and quickly paid for the coffee. Dex had probably woken up the entire neighborhood by now.

I hurried outside. The bikers were having a smoke right next to him. Couldn't they see he had personal space issues?

“Sorry,” I said to them, propping my coffee on the curb and trying to untie Dex—but it was impossible with him straining at the leash.

The bikers didn't spare me a glance. Unfortunately, they were in no rush to butt out their smokes and go inside.

“Dex, calm down,” I ordered sharply. “Dex, down!”

I finally got him untied and scooped up my coffee. Then Dex reared toward the bikers and snapped his teeth. Hot coffee spilled on my toes.

“Ow! Fuck, Dex!”

The bikers laughed at us and went into the store.

A black car pulled up in the lot. Ortiz's car. Crap, he must be on day shift today. I tugged Dex in the other direction, but he tugged back just as hard, barking furiously at the car. Of all the times to see Ortiz. I was a hot mess with second-degree coffee burns on my feet.

The car door opened, and Dex leaped toward it. My coffee sloshed everywhere. I tossed it in the trash, needing both my hands to stop Dex from attacking. This was so embarrassing, I couldn't bear it.

Ortiz got out of his car. “Hey, how's it going?” Not waiting for my answer, he headed for the door of Sasso's.

“Sorry, Dex goes crazy when—” I broke off, stunned. Dex was sitting on his haunches, his tail wagging cheerfully. Like a perfectly trained dog.

Thank you, Dex!

“Can't talk, I'm late for my shift,” Ortiz said. “See ya later.”

He went inside. I bent down and hugged Dex. “You came through, buddy! Finally learned some manners, huh?” I gave him a doggie treat.

Too bad I'd ditched my coffee. Looking over, I realized I'd overshot the garbage and it had burst all over the sidewalk. I picked up the cup and threw it out, hoping Ortiz hadn't seen me do that.

I looked down at Dex, still amazed. I'd like to think it was the beginning of a whole new Dex, but I doubted it. He had never been like that before. Ever. Except . . .

I froze in place.

Except when Lobo was around
.

It had to be a coincidence. Dogs responded differently to different people. And there was something about Ortiz, a confidence that even an aggressive dog like Dex would recognize.

I glanced through the glass. Ortiz was standing at the register, a newspaper spread out on the counter. I bet he could feel me watching him, but he didn't look in my direction.

Your dog knows a true alpha male when he sees one
, Lobo had said.

It hit me with shattering clarity. Dex had recognized the true alpha, but
I
hadn't. I hadn't recognized him . . . until now.

The thing about the truth is, once you know it, you can't believe you didn't see it before.

Everything fell into place.

Sasso's.
Of course
. There was nowhere in the neighborhood more central than Sasso's. It had cameras that could take in the whole block. Ortiz could eavesdrop on anybody he wanted to—gangbangers and their girls buying food, gas, smokes, or just hanging around. It was the perfect spot for him to keep tabs on the neighborhood.

I patted Dex's head. “Thanks, Dex. Thanks for helping me see.”

I had to go talk to him. But I made myself wait for the bikers to leave the store. Then I tied Dex up again, gave him a handful of doggie treats, and went back in.

Ortiz glanced up from his newspaper. He looked weary, like he'd had a rough night. “Hey.”

My knees trembled as I walked up to the register. I fumbled for a pack of gum, in case anyone walked in.

He rang it through. “That's one oh six.”

I dug into my pocket, handing him two dollar bills. He gave me change.

I didn't move.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I know who you are. Dex gave you away.”

Ortiz frowned. “I don't follow.”

“Dex only reacts like that to one person.
You
.”

He glanced out the window for a long moment. Then he looked me right in the eye. “Smart dog.”

His admission caught me off guard. It took me several seconds to find my words. “We need to talk,” I said.

“Not here.”

“Where?”

His expression was cool. “Nowhere.”

I stared at him. “But . . . I
know
now.”

“We'll both be safer if you forget what you know.”

He was stonewalling me, damn it. I couldn't let him. Couldn't let him shut me out.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “You're still better off on the outside.”

“But this changes things,” I insisted, flattening my hands on the counter. “It changes everything.”

“No, it doesn't.” For a moment, something resembling regret flickered in his eyes. His hand came over mine, squeezing it. “I trust you to keep me safe, Madeleina.”

The sound of my name on his lips choked me up. “But . . .”

Behind me, the doorbell chimed. I glanced over my shoulder to see a woman with a stroller come in. When I turned back, Ortiz's expression was cool again. Blank. Like he didn't even know me. “Have a nice day,” he said.

I couldn't speak. I slipped out the door, away from Lobo.