In that day, I crashed at Johnny's. We both slept throughout the day and the whole night.
In the next morning, I woke up early, took a shower and left the house. Johnny was still sleeping. I sat at the first coffee shop I found and asked for a coffee. The lady gave me a weird look, staring at my vest for a second and then served me, clearly not very satisfied, but scared enough to do so.
I sat down outside with my coffee, ignoring her, and finally checked my phone. I had been so busy I hadn't checked my phone in weeks. There were several missed calls and about a million texts from the boys, all from the previous night. I didn't need to open them to understand Quintin had figured it out. I sighted and put down my coffee, as I scrolled through all the notifications. Eventually one caught my attention. It was from about a week ago, from Thomas.
For a moment, I just stared at it. I hadn't heard from him for months, and to be honest, I wasn't sure I wanted to. I had gone through a lot and I was finally starting to feel like I fitted in. I didn't want Thomas to come around and destroy it, because deep down I knew he still had the power to. He was my best friend for years! I owed him my life. I sighted and finally opened the text. I figured he could be needing me, like sick or something, but it was nothing like that. The text said;
"Hey Mike. Hope you're doing alright. It's been a while... I heard you're riding with The Dirty Angels now, wearing their colors and all. Never figured you'd go down that path, but the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, right? Anyway, thought you'd like to know the convenience store case was archived due to lack of evidence. Those tapes just vanished... I'd call it magic, if I didn't know better. Your badge awaits you, over your desk. Boss says it's yours if you want it. I hope you still do. See you soon. Take care, brother."
I locked my phone and put it down immediately. I lighted up a smoke and just sat there, looking down the street. I didn't know what to think. At first I felt so mad... How dared him? He was the main reason I left! He stabbed me in the back! Put our job above our friendship! Tried to arrest me! However, a part of me could not condemn him. He didn't dig my grave, I did that by myself. He was just doing what he was trained to do. That part of me really respected him for doing so. That part of me always envied how it was all so black and white for him. I often lost myself in the shades of grey, but not Thomas. There were no means to an end, if you committed a crime, you were a criminal to him, a man to take down. It didn't matter if you were just a Joe or his best friend. It didn't matter what you could do for him, the information you could provide or why you committed the crime. It wasn't his place to judge and he knew that damn well. It wasn't always that clear to me.
Then I relieved all of our greatest memories. I relieved all the times he helped me through. How could I censure him? If it wasn't for him, I would never have become the man I am. If it wasn't for him... He saved my life. He was there every time I needed him. I couldn't blame him. But I couldn't forgive him either.
And it was in that moment I realized I would never go back. I could never go back. There was just too much history... I threw away my smoke and grabbed my phone. I texted him back and it said;
"Hey, Thomas. Thanks for letting me know, but it isn't of my concern anymore. That badge... Honestly, it just doesn't match my aesthetics. Also, lose my number. It's not you... It's me. But, seriously, talking to me kind of makes you the Made In China version of me before my change of heart. Wouldn't want that now, would ya? Kind of ruined a friendship to keep yourself Thomas, the uncorrupted! Anyway, please find somewhere else to exist, you know, somewhere the fuck away from me."
I pressed send and put my phone away. I left the payment on the table and made my way to the mechanic. My bike still wasn't ready. Matter of fact when I got there, the shop was still closed. I had to call the owner and finally 15minutes later, they opened it. I ended up spending my morning there, helping the mechanic fix my bike. By lunch time, it was tolerable. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than before. I called Johnny and warned him that Quintin was probably aware of our little stunt. He didn't say much, just sighted and told me he'd meet me at the shop.
When he got there, he leaned one of the bikes and we rode together back to the club. We parked outside.
I had just gotten out of my motorcycle when I saw Quintin, walking out the door abruptly and moving swiftly towards me. I didn't even have time to say anything. He slapped me with the back of his hand, in front of everyone. He was either stronger than he looked, or had a lot of practice bitch slapping people. After that, he didn't say anything. He just looked at me, like a bull. The moment I opened my mouth, before I could even make a sound, he slapped me again, making me turn my face to the side. I then looked at him, pissed.
-How dare you?!-He told me.-WHO THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU ARE?-I didn't answer, which only made him madder.-I'm talking to you, pendejo!
-Who do I think I am? Someone with balls to do what must be done!-He raised his hand to slap me again, but this time I stopped him.-Enough! I get it, you're mad! Fucking deal with it, man! What's done can't be undone.
-You're damn right it can't! You disrespected me! Went against my orders!
-Oh, so now you're worried about disrespect? 'Cause when those fuckers were shooting at you, you didn't seem fazed! There's nothing more disrespectful than shooting at our president! So if disrespect is a concern to you, you should've done what I did long ago!
-And what the fuck do you know? You've been around what? 6 months, tops! All of a sudden, you're a street lord, huh? From Eliot Ness to Al Capone just like that! Get your shit together! You have no idea what you did, what you started! You know nothing! Stop acting like you do!
-You know what?- Honestly, I did not have a good excuse or a way to get off easy.-I don't know what you're talking about.-I smiled.
-Oh...-Quintin chuckled, pissed as hell!-Oh! Now you don't know what I'm talking about. You're funny.-He smiled back. Then all of a sudden punched me in the nose, nearly making me lose my balance.-That bring back the memories?
-I plead the fifth.-I mocked him. I have no idea why I said that.
-I'll kill him.-Quintin tried to get closer to me to hit me again, but the boys stopped him.
-FINE!-I finally said and rolled my eyes.-Fine. I'm sorry. I was drunk and stupid.
-Of course! That's all it takes. Accountability. Mathew's brother's dead, but I guess if you say it nicely he'll just forgive you, cabron!
-Woah, woah... Slow down. Who's Mathew? Who's Mathew's brother? He got caught in the fire?-I was genuinely shocked. I was pretty sure I hadn't aimed directly at anyone. The whole point was to scare them, not kill them!
-Oh! Sorry, my bad... Surprise, motherfucker!-Quintin was literally faming at the mouth.-I'll play your game... Mathew is the N9ners leader, you pillock! And his brother was found strangled this morning! He was just 16, you piece of shit!
-Hold on now! I didn't strangle anyone!
-Right...-Quintin rolled his eyes.
-No, seriously! I mean it! I didn't go anywhere near anyone really... Just some strippers... I didn't kill anyone!
Quintin looked at me for a second and then landed another punch in my face. He proceeded to curse me out in Spanish as he made his way back inside the club. I just stood there, looking at Johnny. He was equally confused. We hadn't killed anyone, specially not by strangulation. We shot at some guys to spook them, aiming at the floor and the air, we shot at and robbed some closed shops, we messed and annoyed a couple of hookers, beat some pimps, even slashed some tires, but we didn't kill anyone. All we wanted was to stir the pot, not completely destroy it!
-Well...-Johnny sighted and leaned against his bike-That went smoothly...
I rolled my eyes and sighted heavily.
