Page 4 of Pit Stop

Three

Tillman

Los Angeles is no different than any other town in America. It’s just bigger with a more diverse group of people. If you live here long enough you learn the areas you should and shouldn’t go. I’ve been here my entire life so I’m not sure why I’m in this part of town. I don’t know if any of the rumors are true, but they should have been enough to keep me away from here, yet here I am. The streets are lined with buildings that look as if the next gust of wind might blow them over, yet the cars parked in front are high-end and cost more than most people make in a year. Warning signs should be going off in my head but I’m hungry, and to be honest, I don’t really give a damn. On the corner is a grocery store and I’m about to take my chances on doing something I haven’t done in years.

The grocery store is like stepping back in time. Yellow fluorescent lights hang above, a lot of them flicker or are burned out altogether. Many of the storefront windows are boarded up and the cage doors are pushed back now. The tiled floor is scuffed and discolored. Cracks show on almost every inch of the floor. No labels are on the shelves. The cans are priced the old-fashioned way with a white sticker slapped on top of the item with a pricing gun. There’s a young girl standing behind the counter, reading a magazine while eating a bag of chips. She doesn’t even acknowledge me as I enter. No one else is in the store.

I walk up and down the aisles looking for something small enough that I could stick into my pocket discreetly, but I’m not having any luck. Finally, I come to the aisle of candy and cakes. Individually wrapped packages are displayed before me. This seems like the easiest thing to grab and run with. I scan the area trying to decide on what is worth the risk. To be honest, it all looks worth the risk right now as my stomach growls loudly. A door in the back opens and two men enter the store. Both men are wearing suits that definitely cost way more than they should. One is slender with pale skin and hair. The other is taller, broader, and tanner with hair as black as night. They both look in my direction as they pass but neither acknowledge me.

My heart rate speeds up because two more people to contend with only makes this situation harder. Can I get away with stealing this damn cake? My stomach growls again and I decide to just go with it. I’ve got nothing else to lose. I grab a couple of cakes, stuff them in my pockets and head for the front doors. Keeping my head down I try to become invisible. As I approach the front doors the two men are joined by a group of young boys, close to my age. They all speak in hushed whispers.

It’s right now that I realize that those rumors are probably true. Many people have whispered that this part of town belongs to the SK, Street Kings. The Street Kings are an underground, organized crime group. Supposedly, they’re a branch off the Mafia but I’m not sure if that part is actually true. I’m starting to believe that they may in fact deal drugs, run a supposed brothel, and have a hand in the high stakes illegal street and drag racing scene in and around Los Angeles.

Stealing from this particular grocery store wasn’t my best decision, but in the few times I’ve been in this area I have never noticed a cop car, so it seemed like a pretty safe place to try and get something to eat. Now, I’m wondering if the lack of police force has to do with the fact that they simply aren’t needed. I hold my breath as I head for the door. My foot has almost crossed the threshold when one of the guys calls out, in a thick accent, “Hey You.”

My heart slams to a stop and without a second thought I take off in a full run. I don’t know this area well, but surely, I can find somewhere I can duck for safety. My feet move at a speed I didn’t even know I possessed, but my head swims with hunger and fatigue. A cramping pain starts in my right calf and travels up the rest of my leg. My lungs are protesting the amount of air I need. Just when my body is about to give up, someone slams into me from behind. I thought I heard footsteps behind me, but I was too scared to look over my shoulder. The impact of the asphalt parking lot knocks all the air out of my body. My bones feel like they’ve been shattered.

When I manage to look at the tackler, I realize it’s one of the younger boys. The other three stand around me as if I’d try to escape. More footsteps can be heard as the two older men in suits approach. “Decker,” the slender man calls to the boy on top of me. He stands up and moves away from me. I roll over and onto my knees just as my stomach rolls with an intense wave of nausea. My entire body heaves but I literally have nothing but bile in my stomach. The acid of it burns my throat. “Collect him,” is all I hear before the bigger man in the suit yanks me up by my elbow.

I’m drug back into the store. The young girl acknowledges my existence this time. The fear in her eyes shakes me to my core but I swallow it back down. If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s to never let your fear show. It only gives the other person more power over you. I’m drug through the back door and into a stock room. Its dim lighting makes it impossible to make anything out, but there are tall stacks of boxes as far as I can see. The squeak of a door opening can be heard in the silence of the room, and I’m suddenly dropped to the gray concrete floor of a tiny room that is meant to be an office. The slender man circles me. He’s tall and lean with hair that brushes the collar of this suit jacket, perfectly slicked back. His ice blue eyes make me wonder if he’s not some sort of vampire, because right now it looks like he’s never seen the light of day. His strong angular bone structure makes him look more menacing. “Did you steal from my store?” he asks. I hold his stare but refuse to answer. “You do know there is a hard way to this sort of thing and an easy way, right?” That ball of fear eats at my empty gut, and I swallow around it once more as I shrug my shoulders. “You’re a brave one I’ll give you that.” He motions for someone and the next thing I know I’m standing, and the larger man starts to search me. He produces the two smashed cakes I shoved into my pockets moments before. The slender man shakes his head in disappointment. “Do you know what they do with thieves where I originally come from?” I give him the best bored look I can muster. “They cut off a limb. Sometimes a finger, sometimes a hand; if the offense is bad enough, an arm. Do you want to tell me why you were stealing from me?”

I doubt telling him my sob story would win me anything so what’s the point. I’ve gotten myself into one hell of a mess and I’m not sure I can get out of it. “Does it matter?” I finally ask him.

His eyes light up. “So, you can talk. Do you know who owns this store?”

“I’m guessing you.”

“In a roundabout way, but I’m in charge of it. It’s such a shame that your decision has led us here.” He walks around the desk, collecting the smashed cakes as he does and drops them into the trash can. I grimace and apparently groan out loud. If he had any idea how badly I wanted those, well he probably still wouldn’t care but I’d like to think he would. His eyes meet mine again and he studies me. My stomach growls loudly in the quiet office and I look to the ground. “Where are your parents?”

“Dead and prison.”

“Family?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Just one of those the state throws you with. So, no need to worry. No one will miss me if that’s what you’re worried about.” My arms cross over my chest. I’m trying to hide the shaking of my hands but I’m sure it looks like I don’t give a damn to him.

The slender man scoffs. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” I reply. It’s mostly true. It’s hard to be afraid when you’re numb. I feel nothing.

He stands in front of me, trying to intimidate me. I brace myself for whatever he is about to say or do. “You might turn out to be useful for me. I have a proposition for you.”

“If I decline?”

“Then we’ll handle this crime the only way I know how; but if you accept my proposition your entire world will change.” His eyes watch me as I mull over his words. The ball is in my court, but honestly what choice do I have?

“What’s the proposition?” I ask. His face lights up but I think he looks scarier now than before. I have no clue what I’m about to get myself into, but I see no other way out.

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