Kid Preview: Chapters 1-4

Chapter One

It was a simple request.

I was to steal a car and drive it back to Tommie. He would clear my friend’s debt and give me six hundred dollars in cash. If I did well with this job, he would get me another one, and so forth. There was a good possibility he was lying, but what choice did I have?

Around one in the morning, he drove me into town and parked his truck down a street from a large, luxurious apartment complex.

It sounded fancy too: Versante.

“You see the Chevelle there?” Tommie pointed through the security gate at a red car. “That’s the one.”

I nodded with confidence, but the anxiety was starting to kick in.

How the hell was I going to do this?

Taking the hanger and a screwdriver from him, I opened the truck door and got out. He gave me a smile made from nightmares and sent me on my way.

Pulling the hoodie over my head, I aimed for incognito but looked more like a twelve-year-old boy trying to be a thug. I squeezed through the holes in the iron gate and walked down the long, ominous sidewalk towards the car. It was sitting by itself, quiet and undisturbed. The sound of my breathing and the shuffling of my feet were music to my ears. It told me I was alive, but still in danger. Tommie kept an eye on me from a distance to make sure things went according to plan.

The car up close was beautiful, and an older model. I couldn’t say what year, but a few decades. It was shiny, a stunning red with black racing stripes, and whoever owned it, took care of it. There wasn’t a speck of dirt anywhere. Suddenly, the prospects of what I was about to do made me so nervous my hands shook, and my stomach cramped up.

I took a deep breath and told myself to relax.

Glancing around for people sitting outside on their balconies or out for a stroll, I steadied my nerves and prepared to get the job done. Removing the hanger out of the back of my pants, I straightened the wire and slid the end of it in between the door and the window. Tommie did a quick tutorial with me, but I wasn’t paying well enough attention.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I went through a catalog of movies in my head. It didn’t seem that difficult for them, but again, life was real and not scripted.

Bad things happened to stupid girls like me.

Pulling the hanger back out, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and tried again. This time, I remembered Tommie talking about finding a hook or a loop.

Then I felt something.

Excited, I matched my efforts to my pounding heart. Up and down, bump-bump. Up and down, bump-bump. After a minute or so of doing this dance, jiggling it a bit, and sliding it up and down, I expected the door to unlock, as if it was magic.

But no such luck.

The lock wasn’t budging, and the shit was pointless. I wasn't a car thief. I barely even knew how to drive.

"Damn it!" The wire slipped out from my hand and jammed itself into my palm.

I leaned back and scanned the parking lot in a panic. Did someone see me? Like seriously, wouldn't that be just perfect? Two minutes into the car-jacking business and I get pinched. Come to think of it; jail wouldn’t be so bad. They offer a comfortable bed and hot food. I’m half-tempted to sabotage this job but think better of it when no one comes to bust me.

The streets stayed quiet, and everything was clear for now, but for how long?

Sliding the wire between the window crevice, I was gentle with my movements. My knees were on fire from being crouched into the one spot for several minutes, but I was in the perfect position to go deeper into the slit. My desperation paid off with a click. It was faint, a whisper, but I heard it. Holding my breath, I eased my hand down and slowly lifted the door handle up.

It opened, and I was halfway there.

"Hell yeah!" I fist pumped the air and slithered my way into the driver's seat. Pulling down the visor, I hoped that the keys would fall into my lap, but once again, movies lied.

Accepting the fact that I was going to do it the hard way, I reached into the pocket of my sweater and took out my screwdriver. Cramming it into the crack of the steering wheel column, I pried the plastic away with a vigorous yanking. It popped off to expose the tightly wrapped wires. My brow furrowed as I tried to remember how to go ahead from there.

What did Tommie say again? Did you start the ignition by twisting the blue with the red? Or was it the black and the red? My eyes narrowed as the colors available to me were pink, purple, and yellow.

Well, that sucked. I was going to have to wing it.

Taking the purple and pink, I pulled the wires out the rest of the way and brought them in between my teeth. Tommie said the sheath of the cable made from thin plastic would be simple for me to strip. He was right. I uncovered the wire from underneath with one tug. It took me a minute to do all that, but my adrenaline was in overdrive, and I couldn’t see straight. I ended up fingering the wires together, twisting them around each other and manipulating them in ways that didn’t do shit.

“Come on, you stupid car!” I huffed with exasperation and flung myself back into the seat.

That was when I heard the click—no, not a click, but metal scraping against metal. It was the cocking of a gun, and it was two inches above my left ear.

"Get the fuck out of my car!" A man shouted and forced the muzzle deeper into my skull with every gritted word.

"I’m not trying to steal it."

Another lie, a reflex or compulsion, but I spoke it more fluently than the truth.

"The fuck you weren't!” He jabbed me harder with the gun and pushed me sideways.

As I waited for the pop, I heard the revving of an engine and the squealing of tires. My ride was fleeing the scene and abandoning me there to die. Not that it surprised me. What flipped my world was the seconds that ticked by and the one sentence that would change my life forever.

“Did Tommie send you?”

“Yes.” I closed my eyes and braced myself for the bullet.

It never came.

Instead, the pressure on my temple eased.

"Did you cross him?"

The question threw me, because this guy, who found me trying to steal his car, assumed that I was set up by Tommie instead of being in alliance with him. It was the first time in my life someone didn’t see the worst in me.

Slowly putting my hands up, I answered as honestly as my habit would allow. “I didn’t do anything to Tommie. We only met a few times.”

"Oh, yeah? Then why does he want you dead?" The guy flicked the hoodie off my head with the end of his gun, and my cloak of invisibility disappeared, along with my tough girl demeanor.

“Because my friend owes him money and he offered me a job to clear her debt, but I didn’t mean to steal your car. Not really. I was trying to save my ass, you know? He said if I do this he will give me six hundred bucks. I’m not a thief. I’m just this stupid girl. Shit, I’m so sorry for everything. Just please, don’t kill me.”

“Okay, okay, calm down for a second, all right?” He snapped, cutting me off mid-ramble, slash plea. “Let me fucking think.”

That voice. It sounded young but deep, and there was this undeniable draw in every word spoken. My mind had already conjured up this image of a skeezy guy with yellow teeth and meth-induced acne. I turned my head towards the unknown man to prove myself right.

I stopped breathing.

There were many things you expect when you stare into the eyes of your killer. Normalcy wasn’t one of them, and most of all, you don’t expect them to be so freaking hot. The way he stood over me like my executioner was threatening, but when I met his gaze, his blue, quartz-like eyes were soft and overwhelmed with sympathy.

I knew at that moment that he wasn't going to pull the trigger.

He proved that by lowering the gun from my head and tucking into the front of his waistband. That one action revealed a lot about who he was, and I wasn’t talking about the many tattoos and the hard stomach that lied beneath.

“What’s your name, kid?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed at the term of endearment. “Madison.”

“Madison?” He squatted to get eye level with me. The street light above him had hit his face just right, and I could see every detail: strong jaw, full lips, and a perfect nose. The piercing in his eyebrow and lip were meant to distract from how attractive he was.

It failed miserably.

The guy didn’t fit the profile of a killer. Well, maybe in Hollywood or on an episode of Criminal Minds, but that’s not real life. Low-life thugs on the news were skinny and ugly and dirty.

Not him.

"How old are you?" he asked.

I went to lie, but something about him made me honest. "Seventeen."

Assessing briefly, he was deciding what to do with me. He’d caught me trying to steal his car, the logical choice, if not killing me, would be to call the cops. I hoped that he would decide against that and put a bullet in my brain. It was better than having to go back to that shithole of a home.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour of deliberating, he held out his hand to me. There was a trail of tattoos that started at his knuckles and continued along his arm, creating a colorful, and highly detailed sleeve. The gesture he offered was polite, but I jerked away from it on pure instinct. I didn’t care how insanely good looking my would-be killer was, he put a gun to my head, and should be thought of as dangerous.

Understanding my reaction to his hand, he retreated and placed it on the side of the car for balance. “I’m Alex.”

"So?"

“So…are you hungry, kid?”

I opened my mouth to talk, but nothing came out.

He smiled, and that alone took my breath away, but how can something that’s so crooked and imperfect be so perfect?

“Scoot over.”

“What?” I was slow to understand, but he didn’t wait for me to catch up, pushing me to the passenger side of the car by just getting in.

It was either move or have this guy sit on me, and I’m scrambling, my limbs flaccid and refusing to cooperate. Alex helped with a lift and tossed method. I had no idea why I didn’t try to get out by opening the door and running for my life, but I stayed in the car with him.

“Let’s see what you’ve done.” He tilted his head to the side and scrutinized my work. There were wires pulled out and dangling. It was a disaster and a shitty attempt at carjacking. I expected him to yell at me for ruining his car, but he shook his head and laughed. “Fucking amateur."

I took offense, for whatever reason, and defended myself. “I’m not a car thief.”

“Yeah.” He examined the plastic cover on the steering wheel. “I can tell.”

Clutching my screwdriver, I stayed on my side of the car. Alex made me nervous, and it wasn't because at any moment he could kill me. The gun was still within his reach, and I did try to steal his car. No criminal in a ten-mile radius would fault him for that. My anxiety was for something far more trivial than death. I was severely, and stupidly, hard-core crushing on him.

How could I let this happen?

Sure, okay. The guy was good-looking. I get it didn’t help the situation but was my infatuation for real or a case of Stockholm Syndrome?

My eyes roamed over the muscles in his forearms and the intricate tattoos. They swirled and snaked around him, confusing and fascinating me.

Yeah, no.

Alex was sexy. Not only did he have a pretty face, like a GQ model or Scott Eastwood, but he had this raw, unpredictable allure about him. It sucked me in at once.

I spoke in a lazy slur like I was drunk, and without thought. “I saw it done that way in a movie once.”

The absurdity of my statement made him laugh even more.

My mouth needed to stay closed, but my rambling was a direct result of how he made me feel: so crazy and out of control.

"Why don't you have an alarm system on your car?"

"Because no one in this complex is crazy enough to steal my car."

Except me, I was crazy enough.

"Why do you even bother locking it then?” I frowned down at my scratched palm. “You could have saved me a shit load of trouble.”

"Jesus!" Alex growled in frustration. "What are you even doing here? You should be at home, scrapbooking or, I don't know, what do kids your age do?"

I didn't like him thinking of me as a kid. I had breast for God's sake. They weren't enormous or outlandish, but they were perky. He would have more than a handful.

"I'm not a kid," I said.

He glanced up at me for the first time since he got in the car. His eyes wandered over my body, and I might have pushed out my chest to showcase the goods, which was hard to see through my awful sweater.

“Yeah, kid. You are.” He turned his attention back to my mess, and that was it.

Deflated by how direct he was, I sunk down in my seat, feeling like an unfuckable mutant. Even Tommie would rather put me on a suicide mission than rape me. I was grateful for that, but seriously, rejection hurt more than I cared to describe. All I knew was that I wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

Maybe I still could...

Deciding to spare myself further embarrassment, I opened the door to get out, but as the cold January air wafted in, Alex sprung to life and grabbed my arm. His firm touch sent a thrill through me, and I gasped, shocked into a standstill.

"What are you doing?"

"I...I..." Words were failing me. All I could think of was those fingers of his, long and lithe, and where else I would like them. "I was leaving."

Alex’s grip tightened. "Leaving? Why?"

"Because..." There was something about him that I couldn’t pinpoint, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. "…I can?"

"No, you can't."

"What? Of course, I can. You can't keep me here against my will."

"You're right,” Alex said, and much to my sadness, he let me go. "I can't keep you here, but what are you going to do? You can't go back to Tommie."

"Why not?"

Not like I was going to, mainly since he wanted me dead and all, but I was curious to know why Alex didn’t want me going back to him.

"Because I'm not giving you my car and you can't go back to him empty-handed. He'll fucking kill you."

"And what’s it to you? Why do you care whether I live or die?"

"Because you're just a kid. You shouldn't be out here like this. It's too dangerous. You should be at home with your family wrapped up in a God-damn Snuggie."

I snorted. "Yeah. Right."

There was nowhere for me to go. I'd thought about going to California to live with my dad, Diego Perez, but it would be too awkward. I didn’t know him—I’d never even seen a picture! Apart from inheriting his last name, I’d always assumed my dark brown hair and olive complexion came from him. Mom was more of the paler persuasion, with the bleach blonde hair and sea-blue eyes. She hated Diego, and that’s why she took every opportunity to put me down: ‘Your hazel eyes are just like his; a mixture of mud and green piss.’

Shaking my head to clear those thoughts, I decided long ago: The streets were my home.

"I don't have a family," I said a lot sadder than intended.

Alex was gnawing on his lip ring, deep in thought, and I wondered what it would be like to kiss him. I bet he was a good kisser. He’s got that rough look, and so passionate when he speaks. I’m sure that translated through his lips, tongue, and only God knows where else.

"Okay, I'll tell you what I'm going to do." He slammed his hand down on the plastic piece of his steering wheel column, causing it to snap back into place. "If you won't go home, then I have no choice but to take you home."

The car roared to life when he put the key in the ignition. A shrill of panic shot through me.

Home?

He was going to take me home?

No, that can’t happen.

I grabbed the door handle and lifted at it, frantic and out of my mind. I needed to get out of there before Alex could make good on his word, but he locked me in. I was stuck. What was I going to do now? Scream, kick, or succumb to my misfortune?

I chose to freak the fuck out.

"No, don't do that. Please. Let me out. I can't go back there!" Screeching and thrashing, I was on the verge of tears. "I'll just run away again."

"Jesus Christ." Alex reached out and cupped my cheek. “Will you please just fucking relax?"

The warmth of his touch and sternness of his voice had a calming effect on me.

"Look," he continued, "we're going to get you something to eat.”

The prospects of food made my stomach growl. I covered it with my arms to make it shut up. Alex smiled at me in such a way that my face got hot with embarrassment.

“Then I'm taking you home."

My eyes widened, and I shook my head, instinctively reaching for the door again.

"Hey!” He grabbed my arm, instantly stilling me. “I'm taking you to my home, all right?"

“Your home?”

“Yes. That apartment up there.” He pointed out towards my right. “Okay?”

I wiped away my snot. "Okay."

God, I was a tragic, blubbering disaster. How mortifying. There was no hope of Alex seeing me as more than just a kid now. I'd officially ruined my chances with all the crying and hysterics.

I decided to stay quiet after that.

As we cruised down the streets of Phoenix with the windows down and music up, I noticed an aura that surrounded Alex. There was something unusual about the way he presented himself. On the one hand, he seemed sweet and friendly, but then again, there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Like at any minute, he would kill someone for looking at him the wrong way.

I saw this before at the zoo, and Alex was the lion. A beautiful, mysterious, and intimidating being, but underneath all that mane and pretense of a docile kitty was a predator, dangerous and volatile.

I was bracing myself for that day when he turned on me.

Hunger was a funny thing; it clouds even the simplest of judgments. My focus had been on food, and I hadn't cared about much else. It had driven all my decisions up until that point, throw in my lack of sleep, and it was one deadly combination.

It wasn't until we were pulling into Alex's apartment complex, with my stomach full, that fear, and doubt arose. The precarious situation that I'd gotten myself into was staring me in the face again. It was asking me all sorts of things: where did I grow up? How did I get out in Phoenix?

They were straightforward and innocent questions, but with my brain finally recharged with nutrients, everything was taking on a sinister quality.

I was nervous again, but this was more along the lines of, ‘Hey, I might die if I don't get out of this.’

When we got out of the car, I stood frozen by the door. Alex brought me back to the scene of the crime. I could figure my way out of there. I’d even scouted out a bus stop that was less than a block from the apartments. If I could run faster than he could shoot me, I might survive another day.

I hoped.

Alex stopped in mid-step, turning back, and seeing that I hadn’t moved an inch. My leg muscles were tightening and getting ready to bolt, but I still hadn't decided on what direction.

"Don't you think it's a little late to be rethinking your decisions, kid?"

I didn't answer him; I kept my eyes due north towards the busy street.

"Whatever. Suit yourself.” Walking up to me, I flinched at his proximity, and he let out a tired sigh. "Take this." I glanced down and saw there was a wad of cash in his hand. I looked up at him confused. "It should get you a motel room for a couple of nights and some food."

The bills that he was shoving into my fists were at least three hundred dollars, if not more.

"Um, thanks," I mumbled.

"Keep yourself safe out there.”

“Okay.”

"And lay off the car thieving business.” Alex smiled as he pushed his black hair back away from his eyes with both hands. He did this repeatedly, but it made it more unmanageable. “You suck at it. Go work at McDonald's or some shit."

I laughed nervously. "For sure."

“All right,” he said and gently pushed me towards the street. “Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

My feet moved reluctantly, and I kept looking over my shoulder and back over at him as he crossed the courtyard. He didn't walk fast or slow, he moseyed. Like he was just a guy walking in the park. It was smooth and effortless for him.

Maybe I should stay…I thought and glanced down at the hundreds and twenties lumped together in my hands. It was more than enough to keep me afloat for several days, but then what?

Money was bound to run out just like it did before. I knew what was in store for me if I left. If Tommie didn’t find me, somebody else would, and I’d be back to sleeping out on the cold concrete, freezing, and starving, and slowly counting down the days until I die.

And since I refused to go home to my uncaring mother and deviant stepfather, I decided to take my chances with a stranger. It was stupid and risky, but the two alternatives of where my decisions would lead me if I didn't stay were terrifying.

"Alex!" I ran after him. "Wait up!"

He jerked his head back at me with a puzzled look on his face. "Did you forget something?"

I held my hand out to him. “Here.”

"No. I gave that to you. It's yours. Take it. You need it."

"I don't need it. I changed my mind."

I was still trying to give the money back, but he was unwilling and took hold of my shoulders instead.

"What are you talking about?"

"I…" I was stalling now. What if he changed his mind about giving me a place to stay?

"You what?" He tried coaxing a sentence out of me.

"I want to stay with you."

Alex stared at me with a blank expression until my words registered with him. "Fuck, kid." He laughed and waved me forward. "Come on, then."

"Here," I said, trying again to give all this money back.

"Keep it." He pushed my hand away and glared. "I'm not going to tell you again. You got me?"

“I got you.” I shoved it into my back pocket of my jeans as I followed behind him.

Alex's apartment was on the third floor and overlooked a crystal-clear pool. He said it was like having an ocean side view. I laughed. Other than Big Surf, this was as close as Phoenix can come to having crashing waves.

Stopping at apartment 323, he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. The music from inside was blaring, obnoxiously so, and I covered my ears as we walked in.

"Yo, Alexander!" A booming voice shouted. There was a man on the couch with his hair buzzed down to the scalp. He had large brown eyes and a scar above his lip. The guy was cute and about killed me with dimples when he smiled, but his massive, muscular build was intimidating.

I found myself hiding behind Alex.

"Turn that shit off, Len. Do you want our neighbors to call the cops again?" He scolded as a father would.

Sniffing the air, I got the distinct trace of weed, and at once searched the room for its origin. There on the coffee table, in a purple pebbled ashtray, was a massive joint.

Well, that's not surprising.

"Fuck the police," Len said and flipped off no one. "Let the pigs come."

"Yeah. You say that shit now." Alex rolled his eyes and walked over to the stereo to turn it off.

The silence was lovely, and Len seemed unfazed as he picked up the joint and took a big hit off it. He held his breath; cheeks puffed out and filled with smoke as he gave it over to Alex. They were both sitting on the couch, passing it back and forth between each other. Len stoned out of his mind, still hadn’t noticed me, and I was standing two feet away from his face.

That wasn't awkward at all.

"So, you've been gone for a while. Did you kill the person who was stealing your car? Did you chop them up and bury the pieces in the desert?"

Alex blew out smoke and smiled up at me. "Nope. I decided to bring her home."

“Her?” Len looked over at me now, his eyes popping out of his skull. He pointed. "What's that?"

"That's Madison," Alex said.

"What's a Madison?"

"Madison is a shitty car thief," Alex answered, biting that lip ring again.

Man, what was he trying to do?

Len narrowed his blood-shot eyes and scowled at me. "What the hell is she doing here?"

"She needs a place to crash," Alex said blowing it off, acting as if my need of a home wasn't a huge deal or anything.

"Oh. Cool." Len grinned, and just like that, I was no longer the unwanted guest. "Hey there, little Madi. Do you smoke?"

They had been talking about me like I wasn't there for so long that I didn’t know how to respond when someone addressed me.

"Um..."

"Don't give her that shit. She's a good girl. You shouldn't be trying to corrupt her," Alex said, grabbing the joint away from Len's hand.

I frowned.

Not only did this guy see me as a kid but a good girl as well? It was all too much, and in response, I ended up acting like a child. The one thing I tried so hard to prove that I wasn't.

"Would a good girl try to steal your car?" I shot back, stomping over to them, and snatching the joint out of Alex's mouth.

I'd smoked weed a few times in my life, so I was familiar with the inhaling and exhaling part.

However, in my attempt to be badass, I overcompensated.

It backfired. Badly. I ended up bent over hacking my lungs out, feeling like I was going to die from the burn engulfing my chest.

Alex laughed and grabbed the joint from my failing fingers. "Sit down before you hurt yourself, kid."

I fell back into the chair behind me, feeling the effects of that one hit. One hit. Talk about biting off more than I could chew. My vision was getting blurry, and I could feel my buzz coming on. I closed my eyes, feeling waves upon waves of a heated sensation in my limbs.

Shit...I'm such an idiot!

The last thing I needed to be doing was lower my inhibitions around two strange men. Hadn't my mother taught me anything? It was too late now. I was high, and I couldn't do anything but wait it out. I hoped that I was alive and still a virgin in the morning.

The guys were talking to each other, laughing, and joking around and ignoring me again. Ten minutes passed, well, it could've been longer, time stopped in my world, and they lowered their voices to hush whispers. It was all secret like, which in turn, made me pay closer attention to what they were saying.

"What do you plan to do with her?" Len asked.

I stayed still and pretended to be asleep.

It must have been believable because, after a minute or so, Alex answered.

"She needs someone to look after her."

"Bullshit!" Len snorted. "You want to bang her."

"Come on, man. Don’t be an asshole. She's seventeen."

"So?"

"I'm twenty-eight. That's..."

"Perfect."

"It's illegal."

"What? Fuck that. Our whole operation is illegal. This weed is illegal. That gun in your pants is illegal."

"I don't care. It's not right to take advantage of the situation like that. Madison's a kid."

I was really starting to hate that word.

"Fine. Whatever. But know that I'm not babysitting for you."

"Fuck off," Alex said, and from what I could tell, he was punching something, Len's arm, the table, I didn't know. He groaned. "Look, she’s my problem, all right? I'll take care of it."

It went silent, and I wondered if I'd fallen asleep.

"You're going to get burned with that one.”

“Yeah.” Alex chuckled, but then there was an undeniable sadness in his tone. “Don’t I fucking know it.”