Oops by CinderScoria (electric book reader TXT) 📕

I know you,” he said, arching his eyebrows at the two. “What you wanna know? Dunno how much help I am, you know, bein’ shot up and all.”

“You had Rocky’s necklace in your hand when they found you, right?” Blake asked.

Andre looked surprised. “I dunno. You think it was your brother’s? ‘Cause all I know is, one minute I’m walking down the street mindin’ the ladies and bam, one chica look so fine she could knock a grown man on his ass, but when I try to saddle up to her she goes all loco on me. All I wanted was a number, know what I mean?’

Dawson looked lost. Blake and Shane had an easier time following along, but he was talking so fast they could practically see the words blur through the air as they came out of his mouth.

“So I follow her, tryin’ see what she up to, you know? Bam, chica turns around and pulls a gun on me. I defended myself, got the gun, grabbed somethin’ along the way. Then I followed her again, ‘cept this time she had another gun and the rest is history.”

Blake frowned. “She just pulled a gun on you? Just like that?”

Andre gave him a funny look. “Maybe it’s all money bags and gold bars for you rich folks but down here we got nothin’ but gangs, guns, and a little love that keeps us goin’ round LA. It ain’t uncommon for guns to be pulled.”

For some reason that made Blake incredibly sad. He didn’t like the idea of anybody living in a place where they could be killed out of the blue every day, let alone in his own backyard. This kid barely looked like he was in his teens and yet Blake could see every scar, bruise, and laceration littered on his exposed copper skin.

Andre nodded at the desk across from the bed. “They got the stuff I had on me in that box, if you want the necklace.”

Shane walked over, shifted through the random objects, and pulled out the necklace. He sighed. “This is his, alright.”

The kid actually looked sympathetic. “Sorry, man. If I’d known—"

“You got shot,” Blake scoffed. “I think that’s enough action for one lifetime, don’t you think?”

Andre flashed another one of his grins at him. “You know, you pretty boys might not be so bad after all.”

Dawson spoke up after being silent for so long. “This girl— you see what she looked like?”

“Yeah, man.” Andre looked a little dreamy as he stared up at the hospital ceiling like her portrait was painted there. “She got long black curly hair. Curves like you wouldn’t believe, yo. She was tall and she wasn’t even wearin’ heels. Hard eyes. Like crystals— chocolate crystals. Mm-mm.”

Blake glanced at Shane and his brother nodded. Chocolate crystals. “That’s her,” Shane said to Dawson.

Dawson got an odd look on his face but it was gone before Blake even registered it. “Fine,” he said begrudgingly. “I guess I can’t really arrest you, Morreno, being shot and all. But let’s not make this a repeat offense, you got me?”

Andre arched an eyebrow at him. "Realmente aspirar a un buen poli, poli malo."

Dawson smirked at him as he went out the door. “Cállate, muchacho, sé donde vives.”

“What did you say to him?” Blake asked Dawson, recalling Andre’s shocked face as they left the hospital room.

“Oh, nothing,” Dawson shrugged. “Just told him that I took a little Spanish in high school.”

Shane’s cell phone rang. “Hello?” he said into the phone.

Blake noticed his brother’s face pale. “What is it?” he whispered.

Shane held the phone between his shoulder and his ear and began to sign to Blake— something they hadn’t done in years. Since their mother died.

“When?” he asked in the phone as he signed to his brother, “Dad got a phone call from Rocky.”

“What?” Blake exclaimed.

Shane hushed him and listened. “We’ll be right over.”

He hung up. “It was a few minutes ago. Come on, we need to go back to the house. The FBI’s already there and they have the phone call on tape.”

They looked at Dawson— who was, again, trying to pretend he wasn’t listening in on a conversation, when really he was. “Oh, I need to run down a lead,” he said, raising his hands like they were inviting him to come along.

Shane hesitated, despite his relief at getting rid of the bumbling detective. “But Keith drove us,” he said, frowning. “Don’t you need a ride?”

“I’ll catch a cab,” Dawson promised. “Go on, I’ll catch up.”

They didn’t give it much thought and, after exchanging phone numbers with Dawson, they hurried out of the hospital doors and into the storm.

*All Spanish used in this novel are courtesy of Google Translate. If I got some things wrong, feel free to tell me so I can fix it!

He was tall, I’ll give him that,, especially since I thought most Latinos were short. Not this guy. He towered. Like, 6'2". And he was dripping wet. I remembered that the storm was still going on outside, so I guess that explained that. But beyond the dripping wetness and the unusual height— and my dad was six-foot-six, so I knew unusual height when I saw it— he had the same chiseled chin and dimples that Crazy Maya had. He had aviators placed on his hair, which was odd because it was raining and I’m pretty sure it was almost nighttime outside.

Speaking of, I looked up at Maya, who still had her hand cupped over my mouth. She looked frozen, staring at the new guy with a look that was a cross between completely shock and utter happiness.

Nani, however, was not so frozen. She launched herself at the man with a squeal and latched onto him like a leech.

The man laughed and hugged her back, planting a kiss on her forehead. “What’s happening, lil’ niña?”

Same accent. I liked it better on the girls, though.

I felt Maya’s hand relax and her expression flittered to a scowl as she started towards him. He reached out his arms like he was going to hug her but she brushed right past him, peering out the door and then closing it tightly.

“You weren’t followed, were you?” she asked him point blank.

He looked annoyed. “Nice to see you too.”

“Antonio,” she said, exasperated and with her accent in full force.

Antonio— I’m assuming that was his name— raised his hands defensively. “Please, I’ve been at this way longer than you. I wasn’t followed.”

Maya pursed her lips at him and he gave her a cheeky grin back. Finally she rolled her eyes and hugged him.

I shifted uncomfortably. It was kind of awkward cuffed to a chair while my kidnappers have some kind of family reunion or something.

They looked over at me and Antonio broke away, coming to stand in front of my chair with his hands in his pockets, looking down at me. He probably thought it looked intimidating but I’d seen Maya in action and I didn’t think anything else could scare me after that.

“So this is the great Rocky Nelson,” he said, a sarcastic edge in his voice.

I snorted, unimpressed with his act. “Yeah, and who are you supposed to be? Erik Estrada?”

He flashed me a smirk. “Oh, he’s funny.”

Before I even knew what happened my head was snapping back so fast and hard it almost hit the back of chair. Spots swam in front of my eyes and my right cheek was on fire. I thought I heard Maya and Nani screaming in the background but that might’ve been the bells ringing insistently in my head.

When I regained my senses I spotted Antonio and instinct took over. My right leg shot out and kicked him hard in the shin. Crude, but effective— Antonio crumpled to one knee, his face right in line of my Converse. Before I could kick him again, though, Maya stepped in front of us and she looked pissed.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” she snapped. Pointing at Antonio she said, “Tony— no hitting the rock star for no reason!” And to me she growled, “And you— get control of your stupid manly urges to redeem your dignity, okay?”

“Fine,” Antonio and I spat in unison.

Maya grabbed Antonio’s arm and dragged him off to converse with him in the corner of the room while Nani approached me carefully with a wet rag.

“You’re bleeding,” she said softly.

I didn’t even notice, but now that she mentioned it I could feel warm, sticky liquid running