Illegal Association

1

Jace's pov

     A couple hours before my whole life freaking changed, I was at my usual hangout with my best friend, debating on if we were gonna race that night or not.

      "You feel like racing tonight, hun?" Sky asked me. His teeth were crooked, and one of them were cracked, a result of fighting often.
     "Depends on the prize." I answered, slouching down in the seat.
       "No, you gotta straighten up. It's not ladylike to slouch." He warned me. Leave it to him to inform me of these things.
       "Whoever made that rule can go suck an ass." I rolled my eyes at him, and folded my arms.
       "You'll never change." He shook his head and my immaturity, and started tapping his fingers on the table. It grew into a difficult beat that other people were starting to notice.
       "Stop, you're terrible music is getting hate." I lied to Sky.
       "I believe they're called fans, not haters." He corrected me and continued until he messed up and punched the table. He cursed under his breath, and flexed his hand. I laughed at his antics, and took his hand to massage it. He relaxed under my touch, and let me rub his hand with no protest. I traced the veins on his backhand, and when he thought I was being nice, I pressure pointed the center of his palm, causing him to flinch and jerk his arm back.
      "Could never trust you." He narrowed his eyes at me.
     "Oh please, you trust me with your life." I objected. He's done it before. I don't think he would've died, but there's no promises when it comes to his dad, intoxicated.
      "I'm questioning why I did that." He said to me, leaning in closer to my face.
      "I'm questioning why I didn't rat you out all those times." I shot back, doing the same thing.
       "Because you love me." He drew back quickly, as if he wasn't in my face in the fist place.
      "You sure?" I asked him.
      He was about to say something, but our waiter came back with our drinks and fries. Despite the fact we were underage, the manager let us drink because we gave his restaurant good business. Plus, he was my uncle in-law, and not on of those creepy ones that'd smile at your friends, but one of the cool ones that got you free stuff from every place they traveled to.
      "Fries are on the house." Eddie said, and went back to the kitchen.
      I popped the cover off my Screwdriver, and took two gulps. "You were saying?" I asked Sky.
      "Nothing." He stopped himself from saying anything.
      "You mad, bruh?" I teased him.
      "Nope." He popped the p, and began drumming with his hands again. I joined him this time, just for the fun of it. He sent me a quick grin before going back to staring into space and focusing on his part of the beat. I wouldn't have seen it if I wasn't staring at him the whole time, questioning his mood swings. We went from making beats, to playing games on our phones waiting for the food to come. Friday nights are busy nights, just like at every single restaurant there is. When it did, I was starving, as usual, and so was Sky.
       "Sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy." Eddie said to us, totally lacking sincerity in his words. Might as well he told us to go eat from a sewer. We ate our food quickly, knowing the races would start pretty soon, and downed it with our drinks so we were ready to go.
      We always switched who would pay the bill, me this time, Sky the next, because I was tired of acting like a helpless girl. He knew I wasn't, but he always felt that I should be treated like a perfect little princess. I tipped the waiter poorly, and walked out without feeling bad.
      We revved our engines beside each other, in between two of the older racers.
     "Ready?" A lanky blonde asked from in front of us. All of us answered with different, but equal roars of hard working, race cars.
     "Set!" She winked at Sky, who winked at me.
     "Go!" The flags went down, and I shifted from park to drive before I could blink, and pressed down on the gas to zoom forward.

      I relaxed and pressed on the brakes once I came to the straight stretch and passed the finish line, first, of course. The crowd ran to surround my car as soon as it stopped, cheering me on. I was hiding a smile at my victory, because it was so casual.
      Some people lost interest as I took the cash from Fernando, the dude that runs these races, and everyone started talking again.
"Ay, chica! Keep that up and you'll be in pro racing in no time, like your papi." He pat me on the back while I counted my cash. 100, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ....
      He began to walk away from me, but I took a step backwards and called out his name.
      "Que chica?" He asked, expectedly.
      "The rest." I put my hand behind my back to meet his, slipping me another couple hundred dollars. I quickly counted it before jabbing him in the back with my elbow to let him go.
       I walked away to meet Sky and down our free drinks before I went home. The place was a crime scene and two cop cars were parked in the grass in front of my house, lights flashing. Little cones marked places where bullets landed, and there were at least 5. The sight was revolting and to know that cops were where I lived and that I was slightly drunk was enough to make me drive right by my own house. I took one last look behind me and saw a raised covering on the ground beneath where my father sat and smoked.
      My car ended up taking me back to the bar, that was slightly less populated. I shoved past sweaty bodies to the back, and my eyes fell to Eddie's before I slipped past the kitchen doors. I threw my keys at the wall, and got stares from the last two people back here. They realized it was me and went back to doing whatever they were doing. I angrily took a spoon and found a bag of brown sugar in a cupboard, then sunk to the kitchen floor. Don't judge me, I have cravings just like every other girl.
       A few minutes later, I sobbed my heart out and was back to sniffling when the kitchen door opened, revealing Eddie. I stared up at him, shocked that he found me in my not so secret hiding spot in a corner between two counters.
      I took the spoon out of my mouth and put it in the sugar bag on my lap. "I'm sorry for just-" he cut me off.
      "Don't be, take whatever you want." He paused before speaking again, "Want a drink?" He asked quickly.
      "Maybe." I replied, unsure. I don't think drinking would be the best option after what just happened, but oh well, yolo. He popped back out then came back. He walked towards me with his hands behind his head, and I looked at him hopefully. He showed his hands that held two Smirnoff Screwdrivers. I put down the bag of sugar and gave him a half smile. I took one of the bottles into my hand and took out my keyring, and used the bottle opener on it. He sat on the countertop, and lit a cigar. It was quiet for a few moments, before I realized something  and looked at him.
      "Thanks for the beer and everything, but shouldn't you be working?" I asked him.
      "They can hold their asses." He replied quickly, probably knowing I would ask him that. I nodded, and chugged the last gulp of beer before placing it on the floor and expertly opening the other one.
     "Why don't you drink?" I went on, trying to occupy my mind with other things.
      "I do, I just prefer smoking." I took a sip.
      "Why do you only like Screwdriver?" Because it was the first drink my father let me try.
      "Because I don't want to get too intoxicated." I sipped once again, leaving the bottle half empty.
     "That makes no sense." He retorted.
     "Doesn't have to." I said, not missing a beat.
     "I'm gonna go back out front, if you need anything, just holler." He told me, and got up.
     "Do you need help out there?" I asked him.
     "Maybe." He dragged out the whole word.
     "I'll help you." He held out his hand to help me get up. His hand was really, really soft.
      "No offense, but what do you know about working here?" He raised a pierced eyebrow.
      "My tio taught me a few things, and I'm really, really good at the bar." I replied.
      "Really?" He asked.
      "Really." I confirmed. We went out to the front together and I nearly forgot about the body. Nearly. When his shift ended, he decided he wanted to take me home because I was too drunk to drive home myself.
     "No. No, I wanna go to Sky's." I demanded, hugging my feet to my chest while I spinner on the bar stool.
      "Ok. Where does he live?" He asked me, reversing out of the parking lot.
I gave him directions to Sky's home, and he began driving.
       We reached my best friend's penthouse, and I stepped out, and started trudging toward the skyscraper, bickering with my feet over their lack of working. One of my arms hit a light post when I was whisper yelling at myself and it completely set me off.
      "Fight me bitch." I yelled at the pole that stood there like a freaking wimp. I waited a couple seconds before punching it for just standing there, and realized it was a freaking metal pole.
      "Owwwwww! You know what bitch, bleauh you and your friends!" I told it. A few weeks ago, I took a dare to stop saying the f word and I replaced it with bleauh, a suggestion from Peyton, the goody goody in the badass squad, if that made any sense. Eddie was suddenly in front of me, blocking the pole from my wrath. He put his hands on my shoulders and shook me to stop.
      "Jace, Jace, leave the lamppost alone." He said.
      "It hates me, everyone hates me, what the hell did I do to it?" I tried to hold in my tears.
      "No, no one hates you. Let's get you inside, ok?" I stared at him for a while before nodding and letting him walk me up to Sky's home. I got to his door without any more runins with idiotic objects, thankfully. He opened his door and before he even noticed that I was crying, he sized Eddie bluntly and scowled. Honestly, I didn't see the need for a cover up, it's four in the morning.
      "What's he doing here?" Sky asked me.
      "Eddie, brought me home." I answered, acknowledging that Eddie was literally two feet behind me.
      "Thanks." Sky said quickly, and pulled me into his arms before shutting his door.
      "Did he try to hurt you or anything?" Sky asked protectively.
     "No, he was nice and didn't try to rape me." I replied. Sky nodded in return.
     "C'mon shorty, let's get you to bed." Sky ushered me to his room. He made me sit on his bed to wait while he found some shorts for me to put on. He came back with basketball shorts a moment later, and sat down besides me. I took off my shirt and folded it neatly before taking off my pants and sliding on the shorts. Sky watched me lazily as I changed, and took my clothes away when I finished.
     He layed down besides me, and pulled me closer to him. His breath was fanning my face, and his eyes were scanning mine for an answer. I couldn't hold it in any longer, and broke down, sobbing into my best friend's arms. He didn't say anything, but he held me tighter and played with my hair while I cried.
      He's dead. He's gone and I'll never see his smile or the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes again. I'll never hear how he chuckles when he gets his old '89 Camaro working for a day or two again. I'll never have a father to ask anything anymore. My one idol no longer has his heart beating in his chest, or blood flowing through his veins.
      "He's dead." I broke the news to Sky in stutters.
      "Who?" He asked me.
      "Papi." I said, and moved to bury my head in a pillow.  He sighed and rested his head on my pillow, completely ignoring the fact that he had his own.
      "Do you want water?" Sky asked me kindly, trying to get me to lift my head up. I nodded numbly and used my tongue to wet my dry lips. I could already feel the hangover coming on, as well as shit spewing out of my mouth. A few seconds later, he came back with five bottles of water. I downed the first two quickly, and started sipping the third. Water was literally one of my most important things in the world.
     I went back to crying in my best friend's arms until I eventually fell asleep in the only person's arms that was alive where I felt safe.