On the Edge (6 page)

“I HAVE ANOTHER GUY FOR YOU,”
Iz declared the next morning when I parked my butt beside her on the bus. “I'll hook you up this weekend.”

I sighed and sipped my coffee. The bus lurched, spilling the hot liquid on my jeans. This wasn't my day. I could feel it.

“It's okay, Iz,” I grumbled. “I'm still not over Jack.”

“Don't even joke about that. He thinks you're a total snob, you know.”

I caught the edge in her voice. “What? You think he's right?”

“Not a
total
snob, no. But you obviously think you're too good for the guys I introduce you to.”

“You've got to be kidding.”

I wasn't in the mood for Iz's drama. I closed my eyes for a second, wishing I was back in bed. It wasn't homework that had kept me up late—it was my mind, which had replayed every second of the car ride with Ortiz.

“Wake up, Maddie. You can't go thinking you're better than everyone all the time. Guys don't go for that.”

Ouch. I was used to Iz bitching at her boyfriends, not me. Did she actually believe that? Was this about the scholarship?

Before I could say anything, she gave a big sigh. “Sorry for being a bitch. But you should've at least given Jack a chance. I would have.”

So that was what this was about. Iz kept trying to get me with guys that
she
would've gone for, and every time I passed one up, she took it personally.

“Look, Iz, it's super nice of you to try. But don't bother setting me up with another guy. I'm fine.”

“You're
not
fine. You said last week you were horny as hell!”

A middle-aged woman in front of us turned with a look of disgust. My face went red.

Iz laughed. “It's true! Have you noticed how happy Carmen is right now? She says I'm a master matchmaker.”

“Yeah, and she's ditching us this weekend to be with him. How'd that work out for you?”

“Okay, point for you. But at least she's not still going on about Eric. I was ready to slap that girl sideways.”

It was the perfect time to mention that I'd seen Eric and Julia last night, but I kept my mouth shut. Although I didn't want to keep anything from Iz, I didn't want to rub it in her face either. And she was being kinda clingy these days, more than usual. Must be because I was leaving in the fall.

Something clicked in my mind. Maybe
that
was why she wanted to find me a guy so badly. Because she wanted a reason for me to come back to Miami. Because she was afraid of losing me.

I might be moving away, but I wasn't going to let our friendship suffer. Maybe once she realized that, she'd stop sending all those guys my way.

My morning classes dragged. I spent lunch hour working on my article in the library, sneaking bites of a sandwich under the study carrel. I actually enjoyed writing about what to expect at college. I could fantasize about all the cool things ahead—making new friends in the dorms, partying during orientation week, choosing my classes, meeting my professors. But there were things to beware of too, like the pretty insane rates of sexual assault reported by freshmen girls. And then there were the health concerns. It turned out the “freshman fifteen” wasn't a myth, thanks to greasy cafeteria food.

I wanted to cut last period, but I wouldn't dare miss physics. Ms. Tate was going to give hints on the next test, which she always did on Friday afternoons to stop people from cutting. Contrary to what Eric thought, I could still lose my scholarship if my grades plummeted or if I failed a class.

On the bus home, Tom called to tell me there was a four o'clock staff meeting. I wished I hadn't answered it. I'd been so looking forward to a nap before work.

As I approached the house, I heard Dex barking in the backyard. There was a white van in the driveway.

I stayed on the sidewalk, not wanting to get closer to the house. I took out my phone to call Mom at the hotel. Then Boyd's heavy body stepped backward out the front door, holding our forty-inch flat screen TV.

“Boyd,” I called out. “What are you doing?”

He went down the steps and headed right past me. “Picking up some of my stuff.” When he got to the van, he set it down inside and wiped his forehead.

Bald and bearded, Boyd wasn't a good-looking man, and the gray sweatpants and stained T-shirt didn't help his cause. I still couldn't figure out how he'd scored a date with my mom in the first place.

I peeked into the back of the van. An end table, a tall mirror, a stack of DVDs. We had very little worth taking, and he was taking it. Of course, he hadn't bothered to load up his junk from the backyard.

I'd bugged Mom a million times to get our locks changed. I should've done it myself.

“Why are you taking our TV?”

“
Your
TV?” His eyelids disappeared with that oh-so-familiar glare. “Don't you remember it was a birthday gift?”

Yeah, right. Birthday gift. How convenient that he picks it up when he knows Mom won't be home. “I don't remember.”

“That's a shame. Why don't you use your McDonald's money to buy a new one?”

I gritted my teeth. I so wanted to tell him off. But the sound of Dex barking in the backyard reminded me not to lose it. Until the divorce was final, Dex legally belonged to Boyd. I knew that he hated Dex for being disloyal, for choosing me over him. But I had no doubt that he'd take him back just to hurt us.

“Fucking dog never stops,” Boyd said. “Tried to bite my hand off.”

I wish he had
.

“Is there anything else I can help you carry before I head to work?” I asked.

Boyd narrowed his eyes suspiciously. It was incredible that, even now, he couldn't read me. Couldn't smell how much I hated him.

“That's it for now,” he said. “I'll be back another time for the stuff in the backyard.”

“Okay, then. Take care.” I turned my back on him and walked inside. Only then did I let the tears come.

I opened the patio door, and Dex shot in from the backyard. He was furious, jumping around, barking, nearly knocking me over. I tried to grab his collar, but he yanked away from me, circling the house twice before realizing that Boyd had left.

“Shhh. It's okay, he's gone.” I noogied his neck and gave him a couple of treats, which got his tail wagging again.

I grabbed a Twix from Mom's guilty pleasure drawer in the kitchen, surveying the house. The living room looked bare without the TV and the end table. Mom was going to be really upset. I didn't want to ruin her day by calling her, so I left a note on the kitchen table.

I knew I should definitely stay home that night to be with Mom. She needed the support, and I wanted to make sure she didn't call up Boyd. Though I'd planned to watch a movie with Iz and Abby, they'd understand. They knew the deal with Boyd.

I gave Dex another treat and he nuzzled my hip. I closed my eyes. God, I loved him.

We were almost rid of Boyd.

Almost.

BY THE TIME I GOT TO WORK,
the meeting had already started. Twenty employees were packed into the staff room, Ronald McDonald watching over them like a minister with his flock. I slipped to the back of the room, snagging a free chair beside Manny.

“Hey, Diaz,” he whispered, passing me a handout labeled
Security Procedures
.

“Hey. Who's that?” I asked. A lady at the front of the room was doing a PowerPoint presentation. She wore high heels and a slick gray suit.

“Regional HQ. Security shit. A fight broke out at the Miller Drive McDonald's last night and two people got stabbed.”

“Are they okay?”

“Don't know. There's a lot of shit happening in the neighborhood these days. You probably heard about it from your friends at Rivera.”

“I haven't heard much this past week. What's going on?”

“More like, what
isn't
going on? It's fights, stickups, shakedowns, and that's just within two blocks of here.
And
there's a full moon this weekend.”

“Lovely.”

“HQ's worried that we'll lose business. They're gonna do some things to make it look like we're a safe place for families to eat.”

“
Look
like we're safe?”

He shrugged. “They're talking about bulletproof glass at the drive-through. But other than that, we can't exactly have a buzzer at the door. Gangbangers are half our business.”

“And we have the security cameras,” I said. But cameras hadn't stopped Sasso's from being robbed, so I doubted they'd prevent trouble here.

“Tom wants a panic button, too.”

A panic button?
I knew that our McDonald's wasn't the safest place on earth, but this was extreme. What if some Reyes decided to come and pay me a visit? I was a sitting duck.

As if he could read my mind, Manny said, “Don't you go worrying, Diaz. You're safe here. Anyone gets near you, I'll deep-fry his ass.”

When the meeting ended, I took my place at the back and got to work. But I was on edge, and the kick of caffeine from my McCafé latte only made me more jittery. It must've been an awful scene at the Miller Drive McDonald's when the fight broke out. I hoped nothing like that ever happened here.

The Friday dinner rush ebbed a bit early, which gave me too much time to think. Mom was probably home by now, freaking out over Boyd's theft. I just hoped my note stopped her from doing something stupid.

My phone vibrated—it was a text from Iz saying that she and Abby were going to repaint her room (for the seventeenth time). The theme was Evening Stars, she said, and everybody was gonna “go Lady Gaga over it.”

On break, I checked my phone again, and saw that Iz had already posted the
Before
bedroom pictures on Facebook. I “liked” it immediately. Then I ate a small salad, which would keep me until Mom's taquitos later.

Manny came in and sat down across from me. “What are our plans later, Diaz? A movie? Romantic walk on the beach?”

“Taquitos with my mom. I'm staying home tonight.”

“How's Isa-Dora the Explorer taking it?”

“She's painting her room.” I showed him a picture on my phone. “What are
you
doing later, Manny? Cruising the bars? Trolling the streets for girls?”

He smirked. “Actually, I'm gonna study.”

“Study? For what?”

“Heating and cooling.”

That took me by surprise. “I didn't know you were in school.”

“Just part-time for now. In the fall I'll start my apprenticeship full-time. Bye-bye, Micky D's.” He eyed me. “What, you thought this was my career?”

I shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I wasn't sure what your plan was.”

A knowing smile. “See, we're more alike than you think, Diaz. You got your plans, and I got mine. I'm an ambitious man, mamacita.” He snapped his fingers. “And I've got just what you need.”

“Good to know, Manny. I'll keep it in mind.”

The second latte was a mistake. As I waited for the bus after work, my whole body buzzed with caffeine. Or maybe it was my usual paranoia. Although I stood at the bus stop with several people, I didn't feel safe.

I heard a rustle behind me and practically jumped out of my skin. The heavyset woman next to me started at my reaction, pressing a hand to her large chest.

“Sorry,” I said. I hoped she didn't have a heart condition. It was probably just a cat in the bushes. Or a squirrel. Or a freaking ant.

I needed a distraction. I glanced down at my phone. Iz had posted more pictures of her bedroom makeover. In each one, she and Abby were posing. One shot caught Iz midair, leaping off the bed in tiny shorts and an even tinier tank top. I smiled and shook my head.

The squeal of tires brought my head up. In the same second, someone hooked my neck with his arm, slamming me to the pavement. As I fell, the world streaked red before my eyes. Then they were on me.

Two guys. Maybe three. I couldn't see. I'd squeezed my eyes shut against the blows raining down on me.

Adrenaline coursed through me. I fought with every bit of strength I had. Tried to enlist my arms to protect my head, but they smashed right through them.

A kick to my ribs. Pain curled me up.

I knew this was coming
, I realized. I knew it the moment I'd looked through the one-way mirror and identified Hector's killers. It didn't matter how many times I'd told myself that the Reyes wouldn't come after me.

I knew there'd be payback.

I couldn't scream. There was screaming around me, female screaming, but it wasn't mine. I heard people calling for help.
It's not enough
, I wanted to shout at them.
Why can't you help me?

Because they're scared. Like I was scared the night the Reyes had set Hector on fire
.

A blow smacked my head into the pavement. The shock reverberated through my skull. I felt myself shrinking away, retreating to the safety of the darkness. But I forced myself not to let go. If I lost consciousness, I wouldn't be able to resist them anymore. And I might never wake up.

Somewhere in the quiet part of my mind, I recognized that, back at home, Mom was making me taquitos. And that I would never be home to eat them.

The blows suddenly stopped. I opened my eyes long enough to see my worst nightmare: they were pulling me toward a car. New panic sent a jolt through me, and I struggled wildly, trying to dislodge myself from their arms. But it got me nowhere. I went dead weight. One of them lost his grip on my left arm, and I twisted, slamming a fist into his groin. But I couldn't shake the other one.

Someone rammed into us, and I was flung to the ground. I put my hands over my head, bracing for what came next, but nothing did. I glanced up, my vision swimming into focus. There were guys fighting around me, punching and smashing each other.

Tires squealed, and the car sped away.

Two guys were beside me now. The blue-eyed one said, “It's okay.”

He lifted me up. The tops of trees volleyed above me, bouncing around my vision. I felt the warm, metallic taste of blood in my mouth and nose. I tipped myself forward over his shoulder so I could breathe. Every part of me vibrated with pain.

But I was alive.

“It's okay,” he repeated, walking fast. “We're helping you.”

Instinctively, I knew that. These guys had done what no one else had—what I hadn't done for Hector. They'd intervened before it was too late.

We stopped moving. We were somewhere dark, maybe an alley. I must've blacked out for a few minutes, because I woke up in a moving car.

Voices.

“Two minutes, Lobo. How we gonna do this?” a guy shouted from the front seat.

“Stay put. I'll carry her in.” The voice came from above me. I realized that my head was being cradled in someone's lap.

I looked up at him. He wore a black bandanna over his face. That couldn't be a good thing—I should be scared of him, shouldn't I? But I wasn't. I knew that I was safe. I felt it in the gentle way he was supporting my head.

“She's waking up,” he said, his voice muffled by the bandanna. Then he looked down at me, guiding a lock of hair out of my eyes. “Helluva night, huh? Don't worry. You're gonna be fine.”

Fine?
There were pain receptors in a hundred parts of my body that wanted to argue. I was about to tell him, but when I took a breath, my rib cage pulled tight, and only a grunt came out.

“We're going to drop you off at the hospital, Madeleina.”

The journalist in me wanted to pounce on that. How did he know my name? And why was he covering his face? Who was he?

The car glided to a stop, and a door opened. Then he swept me into the dizzying bright lights of the hospital. I felt him gently place me on a gurney.

He came face to face with a terrified nurse. “What's going on? Security! We need security over here!”

“Her name is Maddie Diaz,” he said from behind his bandanna. “Take care of her.” He bent to my ear.
“Hasta luego.”

Then he was gone.