His Territory

23

- Cristian

The boys and I split up into different cars, speeding through the empty streets toward the airport. Gian took the wheel of my car, and I sat beside him, frantically dialing Lucia's number. Each time, it went straight to voicemail. I cursed under my breath, pulling up the flight schedules on my phone, hoping their plane hadn't left yet.

My eyes landed on Flight 209 – LAX to JFK – 3:50 AM PT.

"Homie, they haven't left yet. Drive faster!" I barked. Gian tightened his grip on the wheel, flooring the gas pedal. We were about ten minutes from the airport when my phone buzzed, and Lucia's name flashed across the screen. I answered instantly.

"Where the fuck are you, mamahuevo?"

"I told you, cabrón," he replied, slowly mimicking my accent. "I'm taking what's rightfully mine—back to our home."

"I'm going to skin you alive when I get to you," I snarled, clutching the phone so hard I felt the metal bend under my fingers.

"Para mi pueblo protegeré con la mano de Dios, yeah?" he taunted, chuckling. Rage exploded in my chest, and I threw the phone at the windshield, cracking the glass. This son of a bitch thinks he can just spit our creed, our sacred words, and walk away?

"What'd he say?" Gian asked, keeping his eyes on the highway as he took the exit for the airport.

"He's a dead man," I muttered.

Gian pulled up to Terminal 5, sliding into the far end of the empty parking lot. At the back, where shadows swallowed the light, a line of old cars awaited, with Benditos leaning against them, yellow bandanas tied around their necks. Adrián sat on the hood of a car, his eyes locking with mine the moment we pulled in.

The boys parked beside us, getting out and joining me in a line. Carlos was the first to step forward, and I followed, letting him lead the charge for now.

"Ay, puto! You think you're hot shit stepping onto our block?" Los shouted. "Hand over Lucia, and maybe we won't drop you where you stand." I moved to his side, my gaze never leaving Adrián.

"Nobody steps onto my territory and takes what's mine. You've crossed the line, nos debes sangre," I said, my voice cold, controlled.

Adrián stood, sauntering forward until there were only inches between us. He looked me up and down, letting out a laugh. "I'm not scared of some California bitch. You don't know anything about me or my streets. Shit's a different game in New York. Y'all be on some pussy shit out here," he sneered, his eyes flicking over my boys.

He turned back to me, grinning. "I walked right in and grabbed your girl, no problem. She was never safe with you. She's about to be with a real man now."

My jaw clenched, and I felt the blood rushing in my ears as his words hit me.

"And as for all of you," he said, turning back to the crew, "I'll drop you on any block. Your territory means nothing to me."

He lowered his voice, stepping even closer. "You can't take what was never yours to begin with. Lucia could never be with a rey when she's already been with the realest."

The world went red. My arm swung up, my fist connecting with his chin, sending him stumbling backward. I lunged, landing another punch to his mouth, and all hell broke loose. The Benditos surged forward, fists flying, and my boys met them head-on.

Adrián retaliated, slamming a fist into my ribs, and I staggered, struggling to catch my breath. Before I could recover, he whipped out a blade, flicking it open and driving it into my stomach. Pain radiated through me, white-hot, but I gritted my teeth, grabbing his wrist and twisting the knife from his grip. I brought the blade to his neck, pressing it against his skin, and everyone froze.

"You know what this means, jefe?" I hissed. "Your boys look like they're ready to piss themselves." Blood beaded at the edge of the knife as I pushed it harder into his flesh.

A gunshot shattered the silence. One of the Benditos held a pistol, and panic surged through the crowd. I knew we had to move before the cops arrived, but I wasn't leaving without answers. I pulled Adrián up by his collar, shaking him violently.

"Where the fuck is she?" I yelled in his face.

He grinned, the blood smearing across his teeth. "Inside, about to catch a flight back to where she belongs."

I dropped him and ran toward the terminal, but Jadiel stepped into my path, swinging his fist into my temple. Stars danced across my vision as I hit the ground, but I grabbed his ankle, pulling him down beside me. I straddled him, raining punches onto his face, each blow echoing with a sickening crunch as blood and tears mixed on his cheeks.

"Let's go!" Los shouted from the car, waving me over.

"We need Lucia!" I called back, already sprinting for the terminal as he tossed me his phone.

"We have tickets. They won't let us through without them," he said, joining me as we barreled toward security.

We cut through the line, flashing the tickets and rushing toward the gate. As we rounded the corner, I saw a stewardess closing the metal door that led to the plane.

"Flight 209 to JFK has now boarded," announced the voice over the loudspeaker.

Los and I reached the gate, both of us shouting, pleading with the attendant. "Please!" I begged. "There's a girl on that flight—she's in danger!"

The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't open the door once it's been locked." Her voice was firm, final.

"Mira," Los whispered, pointing through the glass to the corridor leading to the plane.

That's when I saw her, our eyes locking through the glass. She looked back at me, and in that moment, I knew.

I had failed her.