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“Did you?” I ask, more curious than anything. I know it's common and a way for the crowd to get involved, but I never realized how big it was.
“Nah,” he says, pushing his bottom lip out and shaking his head, “not really my thing.”
I watch as people pass around money, betting on their favorite racer. More often than not, it’s Bodhi’s name, I hear. What would that mean for Eli? He came here to win the money we needed to help with bills. I knew that. But he also had to pay Mateo a portion of his winnings for borrowing the guy’s car. What would happen if he lost?
Faster than I realized, the hum of engines approaches from the opposite direction. The crowd grows antsy, everyone up on their toes hoping to catch the first glimpse of the winner. When they begin cheering, I hold my breath.
Finally, a blur of red races past, and like I was punched in the gut, I release that breath in a whoosh.
“See?” Deacon chuckles, oblivious to my current worries.
I search the crowd until I find Mateo. He’s standing right where I left him, motionless. Hands in his pockets, watching everything unfold. Like the calm before a storm somehow. Eli approaches him, shaking his head in defeat, but what Mateo does next shocks me the most.
He claps my brother on the back in a sort of better luck next time gesture, smiling softly.
Everything was fine.
But it wasn’t.
The Debt
Two Years Ago
That day at the races was like the beginning of the end. I should have trusted my gut and told my brother about my suspicions, but it wouldn’t have done any good.
Eli said he knew Mateo was into some shady shit, but never knew the full extent. Only whispers of gang initiations and cartel activity. That’s when he realized that he had to cut ties with the whole group.
He’d devised a plan. A way to separate himself from Mateo on good terms, without pissing anyone off.
Eli put aside just enough money to make all the necessary repairs to his Camaro. He made sure to talk about how excited he was to get it out on the streets.
No one ever questioned his intentions, probably assuming he was just a guy happy about fixing his old car. And he was, to some degree, but he came home one day, with this weary look in his eyes.
“What happened?” I asked, worried about my brother’s safety.
“I told him about the Camaro, said I wanted to try entering it in a race, just to see how she handled,” he’d said.
“And?”
“And nothing. He seemed cool with it but asked that I do one final race in his car since he’d already set it up.”
I knew from the look in his eyes that he was just as worried and suspicious as I was.
“Please tell me you said no,” I’d said, praying that this would all be over so that we could be rid of Mateo once and for all.
His apologetic stare said all I needed to know.
“Eli, what the hell?”
“Keaton, it’s just one race,” he swore, but I knew better.
I shook my head, fighting back tears as my brother pulled me into his chest and held me close. He kissed my hair and promised me everything would be okay.
I should have known when he transferred the Camaro into my name the next day that nothing would be fine again. Not as long as Mateo had my brother within reach.
I remember the day of the race. Getting the phone call from the police department. It was Eli's one call to let us know what had happened. That the car he was supposed to race in had been reported stolen. He never even made it to the race before being pulled over and charged with grand theft auto.
Ma fell to her knees on the kitchen floor, and I was scared she would have a heart attack.
