Thorns

17 - Rai

Rai

"Jesus, man... You look like an atomic bomb, just waitin' to burst" I heard Tito say, and Nacio hushed him with a punch in the stomach.

"Are we gonna do this thing or what?" I growled at mi primo, who was lightin' a smoke, no worries at all.

"You're too stressed out these days, mi primo." Jorge said, with a half-smile "Guess that Nina perra isn't doin' her job right."

"Vete a la verga, cabrón!" I growled, and Jorge laughed.

Suddenly, the car arrived.

We were at a huge deserted camp field, just outside town. There were no houses for about a mile, there were no borders and no domains. Here, it was neutral ground. Sort of...

There were a silver Mercedes parked on the other side of the field, next to the junkyard. The street lamps gave it some light, showing it was a new model. Those fuckin' Asian had good taste.

Choi came out of the third car. There was four, total. That guy knew this could get worse, so he brought his cavalry. That fucker Brian Kim came out of one of the cars and gave us a cocky grin.

"Pendejo! Hijo de-"

"Shut it, Rai." Jorge said, "You're pushin' it, vato."

Yeah, I was. But I had a whole bunch of reasons to do it. I was on fire since Friday. The date was a mess, and Copper Girl was so Goddamn puzzlin'! One minute she sticks up to me, the other she calls me a pendejo. Don't get her. Granted, it was my fault. I should've kept my mouth shut about the vandalism thing. Still... I thought she would just tell me not to do it again – and I wouldn't, really. Never thought she would call me all that, and then make it all worse by shoving her money down my throat. I left the money on the table and still paid for the dinner. I said I would pay. The fuckin' waiter had a huge tip, just for that. The fucker...

Choi was an elegant man, with glossy black hair brushed to his skull. He had a well-built body – not that I'm surprised, the guy had a Taekwondo school, and he was the master. Figures. He always wore a nice black or gray suit, and a very mean and relaxed face. He made me nervous.

"Mr. Choi." I heard Santiago say, stepping on his dead cigarette "Nice of you to show."

"Nice of you to call me." The man said, relaxed, a few feet away from our own line "I always say that everything can be worked out by talking. So here I am: talking."

Right... Like we're that stupid...

"I believe you know the reason for us to be here," Santiago said, lightin' another cigarette.

"So. I guess you know why I'm here..."

Fuck! Why doesn't she get off my fuckin' head?!

"You'll have to elucidate me," Choi said, his head to his side, almost sincerely confused.

"Your people are sellin' in our territory." Santiago said, always calm and composed "In our clubs."

That's the worse offense for a gang. Our side is our side. No Yellow People are allowed to be there. They'll get wiped out if they cross our border. Lucky for us – or not - the schools are in the center of the town, and that side is... well, like the UN: no shit there, no sellin'.... or so they say.

"There must be a mistake," Choi said, while Brian lids his Cuban cigar; the fucker is mockin' us! "Our business is strict... how to say it...? Oh! Self-sustaining."

"Bullshit" I growled under my breath, and Tito hit me with his elbow.

"My ass, Choi." Santiago said, and he let out a laugh; his laugh's scary as the devil's own "That Yellow Monkey next to you was at La Ronda a few weeks back. More than once."