"I quit high school after the first time I was stabbed, walking to classes one morning. I wanted to go back, but Carlos made me quit then. He said that they knew I was his brother, and he couldn't protect me at the school. Next time, he said, they'd kill me.
"But one of my teachers visited me in the hospital." Ramon's eyes were distant as he smiled, remembering. "Mrs. Webster. Mrs. Jennifer Webster. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and blue eyes. Such pretty blue eyes, like I'd never seen before.
"She knew I wanted to go to college, and she said to me: 'Ramie, you're bright enough, but you need to learn so much. You need to learn how to learn.' She convinced me to go back to high school. She'd spend an hour with me every day after her other classes, working with me, teaching me, helping me prepare for the SATs. She said that if I scored high enough, it wouldn't matter that I couldn't afford even the community college fees, that there would be scholarships to pay for my education.
"She was young and beautiful, and she cared about me. I think I was a little in love with her." His voice fell to a whisper. "But then one of the Bloods attacked her in the hallway early one morning. He cut her face . . . here." Ramon's finger traced a line down Kayla's cheek. "She had the most beautiful face, with those pretty blue eyes.
"I wanted to visit her in the hospital, but they wouldn't let me into her room because they thought I was a homeboy. Mrs. Webster never came back to the high school after that, not even to say goodbye."
He shrugged. "Carlos needed my help, especially when the T-Men started coming after us. So I quit high school again, to work with my brother and hang with the homeboys. What else is there for me?"
He stood up suddenly and walked to the window, looking out at the street. "I need to go take care of other business," he said. "Fernando will stay here and watch over you. Don't leave the apartment, it's not safe. You look very tired, querida," he added. "Do you want to rest?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "I think that's a good idea."
She picked up her plastic bag of belongings and carried it into the bedroom. The bedroom was almost as plain as the living room, with just a mattress and some blankets on the floor. She stretched out on the mattress and pulled the book about the magical white horses from the bag.
Through the open bedroom door, she could hear the clatter of a metal chain from the other room and Ramon's voice quietly calling to someone in the apartment below. I'll just rest for a few minutes, she thought. Just a few minutes . . .
They were walking on the wet sand, the waves surging only a few feet away. Little tongues of water trying to reach their feet. Kayla held tightly to Ramon's hand, hearing Elizabet talking about something as she walked near them, but the words didn't register. Just the way that Ramon was looking at her, that's all that mattered right now, his dark eyes glinting with hidden laughter, some kind of promise . . . The sound of gunfire awakened her abruptly.
She half-rolled to the floor, sliding off the mattress and onto the cold linoleum. The sound erupted again, echoing from the street below. Kayla crawled to the open window, peering carefully over the sill, just enough to see.
There were several cars parked in front of the apartment building, including the white Mercedes convertible with the trashed fender. She ducked back out of sight, not certain what to do next. There was nothing here she could use as a weapon, and no way out except down the stairs, past whatever was going on down on the street.
The apartment door opened and slammed quickly shut, and she heard muffled voices from the living room, speaking in fast Spanish.
"Querida?" Ramon called softly, and she ran out into the living room. Fernando was standing at the side of the door, a pistol in his hand. Ramon was reloading a small handgun, his eyes wild. "Go hide in the bedroom closet," he said to Kayla. "Stay low, don't get up for any reason.
"What's—" she began.
"They're trying to kill us all," Ramon said, his voice tight. With a start, Kayla realized that he'd been crying, that there were smeared stains of tear-tracks on his face. "Roberta is dead. They shot her and Luisa half an hour ago. They were trying for Carlos, but he got away. Someone must have told them about the drugs here—I don't think they know we're up here. Quickly, now, go to the bedroom."
Kayla nodded, too stunned to speak. She started for the bedroom, then all of them froze, hearing the sound of footsteps on the creaking stairs outside. Then the sound of a door being kicked in down the hall and a woman's shrill scream, combined with a baby's crying. "Shut the bitch up," she heard someone say from the hallway, muffled by the closed door.