“What the fuck did you see?” I snapped coldly.
“N-nothing, I saw nothing…” she whispered, all huge eyes on her tiny face. She must have only been about five feet flat.
“You’re lying,” I said coldly.
“No… really…” she whispered. I could see her pulse slamming in her slim neck.
What the fuck was she doing here in the quad, on her own, at this time of night anyway? Only reason I was even lifting weights this late was because Rome and me always put in extra sessions, way more than anyone else.
I pushed my chest against her body and heard a short sharp inhale of breath. “You saw my brother. What was he doing? And don’t fuckin’ lie.”
I knew she knew what was going down, of course, but I needed her so fearful of me that she wouldn’t say shit even to her closest friends. I had to make sure she kept her mouth shut. Couldn’t go spreading rumors around campus.
With a slump of her shoulders, I saw the fight leave her body. “Drugs. I think he was selling drugs.” She sighed in defeat. “No. I know he was selling drugs.”
Breathing in through my nose, I tipped my head back.
Fuckin’ A.
Bye-bye, scholarship.
“I won’t tell no one, I swear… Just… just let me go, please,” she begged, her soft voice cracking with fear. I stared her down, all black clothes, skinny as fuck frame. And she was a first-string cheerleader. I’d see her at every game, every fuckin’ game of the season. Home and away.
“Carillo, please, let me go.”
I caged her in farther against the wall with my arms, bending down to place my mouth at her ear. “You forget what you seen here tonight. If you do, we’ll be good, no consequences. But if you even speak a word of this to anyone, and I mean anyone, you won’t like the ton of fuckin’ bad shit that comes your way. You have no idea what you’d be screwing with. With people who will do anything to keep you quiet. And I mean anything.”
I heard her sniff and she nodded her head meekly, hearing my warning crystal clear. Backing away, I folded my arms across my chest and flicked my chin. “Go. Get the fuck away from here.”
A second later, the cheerleader began sprinting across the quad, her legs flying across the dried grass. I felt like the biggest prick to grace the Earth. She’d been petrified of me.
Damn shame she was now collateral damage.
Over one thousand days.
Over one thousand days since I’d left the crew, made a new life for myself here at UA, and left all that dealing shit behind.
And over one thousand a days until it came back to bite me in the ass.
Rubbing an anxious hand across my forehead, I fell back against the Denny Chimes. Axel’s gonna be pissed at her witnessing his coke deal, and he isn’t someone who forgets. He never leaves witnesses without making sure they don’t talk. The Heighters don’t tolerate anyone snitching on Heighter business—Gio’s orders.
Noticing a cop car’s headlights flare in the distance, I watched as it stopped not too far from where I stood. I froze and held my breath.
Just as I was about to cut and run, the cop got out of the vehicle, disappearing around the corner from view. Then a minute later, he reappeared, walking a chick back to his car… that skinny chick who could bring us all down.
Fuck!
Seeing the car pull onto the road, I set off jogging behind it, sticking to the dark part of the sidewalk to follow its trail.
Chapter Five
Lexi
My breath came hard and fast as I sprinted across the quad. Rounding a corner, I slammed my back against a wide-trunked tree, my head falling back against the rough bark, scratching at my scalp.
I couldn’t run anymore; my legs just wouldn’t let me.
He’d been dealing drugs. That guy had been dealing drugs so brazenly on campus. Austin Carillo’s brother. Austin Carillo, number eighty-three for the Alabama Crimson Tide, one of the most promising wide receivers in the whole SEC. Austin Carillo, the pierced, tattooed bad-boy-done-good from the wrong side of the tracks… dealing drugs on campus. I guessed maybe he wasn’t as boy-done-good as everyone thought.
The sound of a car door slamming had me almost jumping out of my skin.
“Miss? Are you okay?”
My hand slapped over my furiously beating heart, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized it was campus PD.
“Yes… yes, I’m fine. You just scared me,” I said breathlessly.
The cop knelt down before me. “Miss…?” He trailed off, wanting to know my name.
“Hart. Lexington Hart.”
“Miss Hart, if you’d like to accompany me, please,” the cop said and held out his hand for me to take.
“Am I in trouble?” I asked quietly.
His friendly smile put me at ease. “No. Let’s just get you home safe. A young girl like you shouldn’t be out this late on her own.”
Standing on shaky legs, I did as he asked and got into the backseat of the car, lost in my thoughts as I stared out the window, ignoring the hissing and blaring of the cop’s radio.
Five minutes later, we pulled up outside of the dean’s office. My stomach instantly filled with dread.
The officer turned to face me, an apologetic expression on his face. “Miss Hart, if you’d come with me, the dean would like to see you,” he said and opened the car door.
Knowing I had no other choice, I entered the dean’s building and followed the officer straight into the office. He was waiting for me behind his desk and greeted me with a smile. I immediately felt uneasy.
“Miss Hart, please take a seat.” Casting a wary look around the opulently decorated room, I nervously sat down before him.
How does he know my name?
The dean reached for a pitcher of water on his desk and poured himself a glass. He looked to me and raised his brow, asking if I wanted one too. I shook my head no.
“So, Lexington, I understand you were at the south side of the quad just now? My officer informed me he found you distressed.”
My heart began slamming in my chest and a bead of sweat ran down the nape of my neck. “Yes, sir, I was in the quad.”
“And… did you see anything suspicious going on?”
His blue eyes bored into mine, and I paused, not knowing what to do. Do I tell him the truth? Or do I protect myself from Austin and his brother?
Austin’s warning rang clear in my head. If you even speak a word of this to anyone, and I mean anyone, you won’t like the ton of fuckin’ bad shit that comes your way.
Before I knew it, I was shaking my head again.
The dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You didn’t see any men in the quad? Men who didn’t belong at this school?” He leaned forward. “Men who were dealing drugs, perhaps? Wasn’t that why you ran?”
“No, sir,” I answered in a small voice, a slight tremor indicating my untruth. “I just don’t like being alone in the dark. I was in a hurry to get home.”
“And where had you been so late at night?”
I lowered my eyes in embarrassment. “The hospital… I have to attend counseling for a disorder I had years ago. It’s part of my recovery.”
The dean blinked as he thought over what I said, and leaned forward so only I could hear him. “If you are scared of what you witnessed, we can ensure your safety. We can’t tolerate this kind of problem on our campus. We just need proof of who’s responsible. Anyone at this school, for example?”
Staring at him with wide eyes, I said. “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t see anything or anyone. I can’t help you.”
I didn’t know right then why I didn’t confess to what I saw, to Austin Carillo being tied to it all, to his very clear threat against my safety. But I just wanted to go home. Just wanted to put tonight behind me. My counseling sessions always made me feel like I’d been dragged through the dirt and I was tired.
“Okay, Miss Hart. If you remember anything at all, just let me know,” the dean said dejectedly.
/> Nodding my head, I stood, and the officer led me from the room and out of the building into the humid summer night air.
“Come on, miss, I’ll take you home,” the officer offered.
“I’d prefer to walk if you don’t mind,” I answered, and the officer shrugged, climbed in his car, and drove off.
Wrapping my arms around my chest, I quickly made my way toward my sorority house. I was halfway down the dimly lit pathway when someone stepped from the shadow of the trees out in front of me.
Muffling my mouth from a shocked scream, I stopped dead. The person stepped forward and his face came into view… Austin Carillo.
He was staring at me—all heavy tattoos and piercings—with anger in his gaze, and I backed up in panic. “You have a death wish or something?” he asked coldly. “I wasn’t joking when I said people would come after you if you squealed. And I find you went to the dean? Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now?”
“No! I-I understood the w-warning just fine. I d-didn’t say anything to him. I swear!” I rushed out, my voice shaking in fear. Austin’s expression remained hard and unfeeling.
Turning to face an alternate path home, my feet began hitting asphalt. Praying Carillo didn’t follow me, I set to a sprint all the way to my sorority house, running straight up to my room and slamming my door shut.
Chapter Six
Austin
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
What the fuck was I doing, jumping out on her like a stalker after seeing her leave the dean’s office? I saw her face; she was terrified.
SHIT!
What must she think of me?
I rolled onto the country road leading to the trailer park, the gravel crunching beneath Rome’s truck tires. He’d let me use his truck to pay an impromptu visit home.
Four miles until I reached the end of the road.
Four miles until I reached my childhood home.
And four miles until I saw just how far my mamma was really gone.
As I passed the ancient and rusted trailer park sign—Westside Heights—swinging back and forth from where it had become unhinged on one side, I shook my head.
Fuckin’ paradise.
Two miles in and it wasn’t long before I began seeing the familiar faces of the crew milling about the place. And they all looked up, of course. You only came down here on this path for two reasons: A, you lived here, or B, you wanted to score a fix. These guys knew I was the former.
Flicks of the chin greeted me as I crawled my truck to trailer twenty-three. Slamming the truck in park and sprinting up the stairs, I rapped twice on the metal door and let myself inside.
“Mamma?” I called, taking in the mess of the place: dirty dishes, stale food, empty syringes, and… what was the hell was that smell?
Levi’d always had this place fixed up real nice—clean, sanitary at least—but looking around, it was clear he was spending most of his time with the crew, neglecting his chores. The place was a shithole. My jaw clenched in annoyance.
“Mamma?” I called again and heard a small sound come from her bedroom. My legs were shaking as I approached her old decrepit door. Every time I came by, she always looked worse.
The sound of smashing glass made me panic, and I pushed through the door, only to see my mamma leaning down, her torso hanging from the bed, a shattered drinking glass on the floor where it must have slipped from her hand. She was moaning in pain, and it was clear she couldn’t lift herself back up.
Shooting forward, I gripped my mother’s tiny frame by her arms and lifted her gently to the bed, almost gagging at her smell. As I set her straight, I flinched at the pain etched on her face. Her teeth were gritted and her nostrils flared as she took short, sharp breaths at the discomfort.
Sitting on the bed beside her, I ran my hand over her forehead, pushing the sweaty strands of brown hair from her face. “Calma, Mamma, Calma,” I spoke in Italian, her mother tongue, soothing her to calm. Large, sunken brown eyes stared up at me, and her lip twitched. I knew that was Mamma giving me a thankful smile.
“Stai bene, Mamma?” I asked, hoping she felt a little better.
Her eyelids closed, and I knew that was her attempt at a nod. She was either exhausted or in too much pain to try to speak.
I cast a look around the room and noticed her dirty clothes strewn all over the wooden floor and gray medical bottles lined up on her dresser. My gut clenched when I realized what the bottles were and where the God-awful smell was coming from. They were bottles of piss.
Closing my eyes, I fought against losing my shit at the state she was in. Another thing to rip on Axel for.
A touch, as light as a feather, ghosted across the back of my hand, and then I looked down. Mamma had laid her hand upon mine, her eyes wet with tears.
Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss on her head and whispered, “Ti voglio bene, Mamma.”
“Anche… a te… mio caro,” she whispered back, telling me she loved me too. I smiled at her proudly as she fought through the pain to respond.
Standing, I rubbed my hands together. “Right, Mamma, I’m getting you a glass of water. Then it’s time to get this place cleaned up, then it’s your turn, okay?”
“Such… a good… boy,” she managed to croak out.
I wasn’t. We both knew that, but at that moment, I’d never felt more blessed that I’d made her happy enough to say such words to me.
An hour later, I placed the last of the freshly washed dishes away into the cabinet and moved to the bathroom to run the shower. I’d checked on Mamma every five minutes, and her eyes were expressively sad as she watched me scrub and clean every corner of our old trailer. The woman was a damn saint. She deserved more than all this shit.
“Okay, Mamma, let’s get you in the shower,” I instructed, trying to ignore the flash of mortification on her beautiful face. She hated not being able to do this for herself. Before this fuckin’ disease struck her down, Chiara Carillo held down three jobs and loved me and my brothers enough for two parents once our deadbeat dad left us for some whore across state. Mamma never let us go hungry, always ensured we stayed on the right path, and kept us outta trouble when all the other kids in the park began joining the Heighters.
Then seven years ago, everything changed. The cause: ALS. Lou Gehrig’s Disease. A form of Motor Neuron Disease. The goddamn disease that gradually weakened her muscles. The incurable disease that chipped away her freedom day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.
A soft moan slipped from Mamma’s lips as I lifted her slight body in my arms, and I pretended to ignore the sweat-soaked and soiled sheets that she’d been lying on for Christ knows how long.
Carrying her into the shower, I placed her on the toilet seat and began removing her dirty nightdress. A splash of water hit my hand, and when I looked up, tears were pouring down my mamma’s cheeks. She couldn’t meet my eyes.
Pain sliced through my chest.
Coughing to erase the emotion stuck in my throat, I checked the temperature of the water and, silently, lifted Mamma in my arms and placed us under the stream. My clothes were drenched, but I didn’t give a shit.
The water did a good job of masking her embarrassment as she clung to my shoulders like a scared and timid child.
After washing Mamma’s body and hair, I wrapped her in the last of the fresh towels, changed her into her robe, and sat her on the worn sofa.
“I gotta change the linen on your bed, Mamma, so you’ll sleep real good tonight. I’ll be right back, okay?” I said. She closed her eyes, nodding her head slightly. Even something as simple as a shower had exhausted her.
Curse this motherfuckin’ disease.
Finding the last of the clean, though faded, bed linen, I put them on the bed, adding an incontinence bed pad below to save the mattress from any accidents. I tried to disguise it as much as possible; Mamma would hate to know I’d done it. She hadn’t lost the use of her bladder; it was getting to the bathroom unaided she couldn’t do.
W
alking to the living room, I leaned against the doorframe and tried to stop the utter fuckin’ devastation at seeing my mamma, the best person I knew, so broken, her petite frame slumped over, her muscles weakening by the day. She’d been like this for seven years. With ALS, you’re lucky if you get past ten years. My stomach felt like a pit. The way things were looking, I wasn’t sure she’d even last twelve months.
A pained moan ripped from her lips, and her eyebrows pulled down in pain. Almost sprinting to her side, I scooped her up in my arms and took her back to bed. A happy sigh escaped her lips as she lay in the fresh, clean linen, and I once again sat beside her.
“Can I get you anything else, Mamma?” I asked and lost a breath as she reached for my hand once more.
“No, grazie, mio caro,” she said softly, and her eyes began to fill with tears again.
“Damn, Mamma, please don’t cry. I can’t stand it,” I said, and even to my ears, my voice sounded strained.
“They… have… him, Austin,” Mamma managed to say, and I frowned.
“Who, Mamma? Who has who?”
Her bottom lip began tremble and she tried to squeeze my hand with hers but failed. “Levi… they… got to… him. Need… to save… him.” Mamma’s voice cracked on the last word, and cold shivers ran down my spine.
My head dipped. “I know, Mamma. I just found out tonight.” She looked up at me like I was Superman, like I was the answer, like I could get him out. Her big brown eyes were begging me, pleading for me to save him.
“Axel… he is too far… in. Levi… you… you both need to… get out.” Mamma suddenly cried out and her back stiffened as pain racked her body. Swallowing hard, I held her hand tightly in mine as we waited for the excruciating ache to subside.
Mamma panted heavily and eventually calmed enough to say, “Austin… I’m so… proud… of you. Prom… promise me… you’ll save… Levi…”
Brushing her hand over my lips, I pressed a kiss to her fingers and nodded. “Te lo guiro, Mamma. I swear it to you. I’ll find a way to save him.”
Her eyelids fell as she fought the pull of sleep, and, standing, I kissed her forehead, whispering, “Buona notte, e dormi bene, mia cara.”