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  Shinchou stiffened. “I don’t need help.”

  “Roll up your sleeve,” Kennin said.

  Shinchou slumped down in the seat. “No.”

  “You gotta go in there, Shin,” Kennin said. “You can’t go home. Not unless you want Jack shoving you into motel rooms with creeps until the morning they find your body in a Dumpster somewhere. You’ll be safe here. No one will know where you are. And that woman knows how to help you.”

  Shinchou started to cry. Kennin reached over and softly stroked her hair. “Come on, sis. You know it’s the right thing to do. You know Jack’s just using you. The day he stops making money off you, you’ll never see him again.”

  “I’m scared,” Shinchou sobbed, wiping the tears off her cheeks. “What if he does find me?”

  “He won’t.” Kennin looked over the seat at Tito. “Right, Tito?”

  “Right,” Tito replied.

  “We’re the only ones who know about this,” Kennin told his sister while staring over the seat at Tito. “If Jack were ever to find out you were here, I’d know that there was only one person who could have told him.”

  Tito slid down in the backseat and nodded miserably.

  Shinchou reluctantly got out of the car, and Kennin went with her. At the same time, the large woman and Leon came down the steps. The large woman, of course, was Sista Bertha, and Kennin realized at once that she had a special aura about her. She took Shinchou’s hand and spoke softly to her, and in no time Kennin’s sister was going up the stairs and into the house. Leon stayed behind.

  “She’ll be okay here,” he said once Bertha and Shinchou went inside the house. “Like I told you before, it’ll be up to your sister, but at least she’ll have a chance.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” Kennin said.

  “I told you, dawg,” Leon said. “Someone did it for me. I’m just passing the good karma along.” He glanced at the BMW. “Sweet ride.”

  “Not mine,” Kennin said.

  Leon nodded. “Better take it back to wherever it belongs before you’re sorry.”

  “Will do.”

  They shook hands. Kennin got into the BMW and headed back toward the strip.

  “Dude, too bad we have to bring this thing back, huh?” Tito said. Kennin didn’t answer. He and Tito both knew Tito had some explaining to do regarding the tsuiso and Kennin’s crash.

  Tito gnawed on his thumbnail. The streets outside grew brighter with neon signs and thousands of lightbulbs. They were nearing the strip. Kennin drove and waited for Tito to speak.

  Tito finally cleared his throat. “I swear, I didn’t think you’d crash.” The words sounded more like a mouse’s squeak than a human voice.

  “You loosened the lug nuts on the front wheel and thought I wouldn’t crash?” Kennin asked in disbelief.

  “I left them hanging by a thread,” Tito said. “I figured you’d roll a few feet, the wheel would fall off, and that would be it. I almost had a frickin’ heart attack when you went off the line and into the first turn.”

  The next question was obvious. “Why, Tito?”

  “That Jack guy,” Tito said. “The one back at the motel.”

  “How?” Kennin asked.

  “He offered me five hundred bucks and I told him to go to hell,” Tito said. “Then he threatened to break my leg with a baseball bat. Said he knew where I lived, where I worked, went to school, everything. I asked him how he knew all that stuff and he said you told him. Why’d you tell him?”

  “I didn’t,” Kennin answered.

  “Then how’d he know?” Tito asked.

  Shinchou, Kennin thought. She’d probably told Jack all sorts of things in complete innocence. But Jack soaked everything in, knowing someday it might come in handy. “Did Jack have money on the tsuiso?”

  “Yeah, I think so. A lot,” Tito answered. “I mean, why else would he care, right? Jeez, dude, you don’t know how sorry I am. When you broke your leg in that crash and my sister’s car got totaled, I was ready to slit my own throat.”

  Kennin believed him. “You take the money?”

  Tito stared at him. “You crazy? No frickin’ way!”

  “You should have,” Kennin said. “If you were gonna do it anyway, why not? At least you’d have some money to help with my doctor bills and fixing your sister’s car.”

  “Forget it,” Tito said. “I wouldn’t take that SOB’s money if he paid me. Uh, wait, that doesn’t make sense, but you know what I mean.”

  They turned onto the strip and rode along in silence, the lights of the casinos so bright it almost seemed like day. Ahead loomed the Babylon, a garish casino with huge fake gold and diamond decorations that were supposed to make the place look as if it were dripping in treasure. Tito snuck a peek at Kennin.

  “So, uh, what do you say, Kennin? We friends again?”

  Kennin glanced down at the long stiff cast that jammed the toes of his left leg against the firewall behind the pedals. He believed Tito when he said he had no idea that loosening the lug nuts would cause so much pain and suffering. He could forgive him … up to a point. Trusting him again was a different story. “Sure, Tito, we’re friends again.”

  The Babylon’s parking garage had a rear exit ramp for drivers who preferred to depart on a back street rather than onto the strip. It was supposed to be one-way and exit only, but it was handy if you were returning a “borrowed” car. It was now close to two a.m. and the garage was quiet. Kennin pulled the BMW back into its spot, and he and Tito got out.

  “Good thing we didn’t get caught,” Tito muttered as Kennin slid the crutches under his arms.

  But the words were hardly out of his mouth when Kennin noticed the shiny black Hummer parked a few spaces away. The door opened, and Derek got out with a knowing smile on his face. Suddenly Kennin knew that Tito had spoken too soon.

  9

  often?” Derek asked.

  “Park cars, sir?” Kennin replied innocently.

  “Nice try. I’m talking about taking them out for a”—Derek glanced at his heavy gold and silver Rolex—“for a two-hour joyride.”

  Kennin scuffed his right foot against the garage floor. “No, sir, I’ve never done that before.”

  “It wasn’t a joyride,” Tito blurted. “Kennin’s sister—”

  “Shut up, Tito,” Kennin snapped, then looked up at Derek. “I’m sorry, sir, it’ll never happen again.”

  “Know what would happen if Mr. Mercado found out about this?” Derek asked.

  “He’d break my other leg?” Kennin asked.

  Derek smiled. “Smart boy. You read my mind.”

  “May I continue reading it, sir?” Kennin asked.

  “Sure, let’s see what you come up with,” Derek said.

  “My guess is you’re not going to tell him about this, but you’re not going to let us forget it either.”

  Derek looked down at Kennin’s cast. “How soon before you’re ready to drive again? I mean, without the cast.”

  “What makes you think I’ll want to drive again?” Kennin asked back.

  Derek glanced at the silver 760Li. ‘That’s what I call a bad bluff, kid. Now listen up. You may be a good drifter, but you’re not the only guy around who knows how to slide a car sideways. This thing catches on, we could be talking some serious money. And from what I hear, you could use a few extra dollars right now.”

  “Suppose I think about it?” Kennin said.

  “Sure, go ahead,” Derek said. “Just don’t take too long. The train leaves the station whether or not you’re on board.”

  Derek turned and climbed back into the Hummer. The big black SUV started up with a low rumble and pulled out of its spot.

  Kennin started down the ramp on his crutches.

  “I don’t get it,” Tito said, following him. “Why didn’t he bust us?”

  “That’s not the way it works in this town,” Kennin answered.

  “Then how does it work?” Tito asked.

  “He knows we owe
him,” Kennin said. “When the right time comes, he’ll want to collect.”

  ○ ○ ○

  At lunch the next day, for the first time since the crash, Kennin and Tito sat together at their regular table by the cafeteria windows. Across the cafeteria Chris and Ian sat with Megs and Mutt and a bunch of other gear-heads. Meanwhile, Mariel and her crowd of hot, popular girls and wannabes occupied a table in the middle of the room. They were serving Tater Tots again, and without Mariel treating, Kennin was back to his all-potato lunch.

  “So whatever happened to Jack last night?” Tito asked with a yawn. They’d both gotten around three hours of sleep.

  “He ran into some garbage,” Kennin said.

  Tito nodded and propped his head on his hand while he ate.

  “What do you hear from Cousin Raoul these days?” Kennin asked. Tito’s cousin was the one who’d actually boosted the GTO that Detective Neilson was so hot to nail Kennin for.

  “Not much,” Tito said.

  “He still in the gardening business?”

  “As far as I know,” Tito said. “Why, you want a job cutting lawns?”

  “I need a ride to the hospital this afternoon,” Kennin said. “To get the cast taken off.”

  “I’ll give him a shout.” Tito flipped open the shiny silver cell phone, made the call, and left a message: “Hey,Raoul, it’s Cousin Tito. Got a favor to ask. Give me a yell, okay?” He snapped the phone shut.

  “New phone?” Kennin asked.

  “Check it out.” Tito held it up and snapped a shot of Kennin, then handed him the phone. Kennin studied the shot that Tito had just taken. Mariel was right. His face did look thinner. It was strange how you might not notice it in a mirror, but the camera didn’t lie. Kennin leaned forward, aimed the camera at the diamond stud in Tito’s ear, and took a shot.

  “So you noticed,” Tito said with a grin.

  Kennin nodded, but kept what he was thinking to himself—that for a kid who’d lost all his money betting on the tsuiso and refused to take any money from Jack, Tito sure was buying himself some nice things.

  “So, uh, if I can’t get hold of Raoul, how are you going to get to the hospital?” Tito asked.

  It was a good question. Shinchou was at Sista Bertha’s, and Angelita’s 240 SX was trashed. Unless …

  “Your sister hasn’t found another ride, has she?” he asked.

  Tito’s face went stony. “We had a deal, remember? You said you’d leave her alone.”

  “I’m not asking for her hand in marriage, Tito,” Kennin said. “Just a ride to the hospital. Which reminds me, how did you and she get there that time you came to visit?”

  “Sometimes my mom lets her use her car,” Tito said.

  “If you don’t want her around me, how come she came to the hospital?” Kennin asked.

  “Because she wanted to,” Tito said. “Wasn’t like I could stop her. It was her car you got hurt in. I guess she felt responsible.”

  “Jeez.” Kennin shook his head in disbelief.

  “What?” Tito asked.

  “You loosen the lug nuts, which causes me to break my leg while your sister’s car gets completely trashed. And who winds up feeling responsible? Angelita.”

  Tito winced. “I told you I didn’t think that would happen.”

  “Hey.” Mariel sat down beside Kennin. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils. She was wearing a tight, low-cut pink top and tight jeans. Tito was staring.

  “Ahem.” Kennin cleared his throat and Tito looked up, his face coloring.

  “Back to Tater Tots for lunch, I see,” Mariel said.

  Kennin shrugged.

  “How’s the leg?” Mariel said.

  “Funny you should ask,” said Tito.

  “It’s nothing,” Kennin quickly said.

  Mariel gave Tito a puzzled look.

  “He needs a ride to the hospital this afternoon so he can get the cast off,” Tito said.

  “I’ll find someone,” Kennin said.

  “You just did,” said Mariel.

  10

  meet him on the front steps after school. Kennin skipped out of study hall early and sat down to wait. When the bell rang, the doors swung open and kids started to stream out. Kennin pushed himself up off the steps and onto his crutches and hobbled off to the side so he wouldn’t get trampled.

  “Hey, you.”

  Kennin turned and found Angelita with her arms filled with books. Her black hair was brushed out and she was wearing makeup and looked great.

  “You don’t usually go home this way,” Kennin said.

  “I know,” said Angelita. “Tito told me to meet him here. I don’t know why.”

  Kennin smiled bitterly to himself. He knew exactly why Tito wanted his sister to be on the front steps when school ended.

  “Have you seen him?” Angelita asked.

  “I have a feeling he’ll be taking his time,” Kennin said.

  The faint lines on Angelita’s forehead deepened, but she didn’t press the question. Instead she asked, “So how are you?”

  “Better, thanks.”

  She nodded at the cast. “When does it come off?”

  “Funny you should ask,” Kennin said. “In about an hour.”

  “After only a month?” Angelita said. “That fast?”

  “I’m tired of it,” Kennin said. “Doctor said it could come off. Though he’d rather wait.”

  “Oh.” Angelita scowled.

  An awkward moment passed. Whenever she was near him, Angelita felt torn. She had a month to go before she could graduate and move to California. Everyone agreed it was the best thing for her. Kennin hardly came to school and seemed to have no other ambition than driving as fast as possible. The two of them didn’t make sense together. Angelita knew it would be best if she steered clear of him.

  Mariel came out the front doors. When she saw Kennin, a big smile appeared on her face. She brushed past Angelita and touched Kennin lightly on the arm. “Ready?” she asked.

  Kennin gave Angelita one last look. But her eyes were downcast and she didn’t see.

  “Here. I’ll take your bag,” Mariel said, picking up his backpack. She held it in one hand and placed her other hand on Kennin’s arm, as if he needed help getting down the steps. Kennin knew it was just for show.

  Mariel’s IS300 was parked halfway down the block. When they got there, Mariel opened the door for him. Kennin tossed the crutches in the back, then angled the cast in and eased himself into the passenger seat.

  “Thanks for doing this,” he said when Mariel got into the driver’s seat.

  “My pleasure,” she replied, and pulled away from the curb. The IS300 was a peppy little beast, and Mariel quickly shifted through the gears to third.

  “The clinic’s across town and it’s a real pain getting on and off buses with this cast,” Kennin said.

  “You don’t have to explain,” Mariel said, and gestured to the LCD screen for the navigation system, which displayed a color map of Las Vegas. “Touch the screen where you want to go.”

  Kennin pressed his finger against the screen and an electronic voice instructed Mariel to make a left turn in two hundred feet.

  “What happened to your Saab?” Kennin asked. Before the IS300, Mariel had driven a Saab convertible.

  “The lease ran out,” Mariel said. “The Swedish don’t understand what it’s like to live in a place where the average summer temperature is more than a hundred degrees. The black convertible top felt like a frying pan, so I decided to get a sedan.”

  “You picked well,” Kennin said, admiring the instrument cluster, the leather seats, and the five-speed manual shift.

  “So how’s the 240 SX?” Mariel asked.

  “Totaled,” Kennin answered.

  “What a shame,” said Mariel. “I was sure you’d beat Chris that night.”

  They rode in silence for a while, Kennin thinking about what Mariel had just said.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” he finally
said.

  “Okay,” said Mariel.

  “Why are you so down on him?”

  “Simple. He doesn’t have a clue about how to treat a girl. To him we’re just sex objects and arm candy.”

  “Ever tell him that?” Kennin asked.

  “About a thousand times. He just doesn’t get it.” She swiveled her head and smiled at him. “You, on the other hand, seem to understand what a girl needs.”

  Kennin didn’t answer. The computer voice in the navigation system told Mariel to prepare for a right turn in five hundred feet.

  “Still think I’m playing you just to get Chris’s attention?” Mariel asked.

  “Why shouldn’t I think that?” Kennin replied.

  “Because maybe it’s not true,” said Mariel.

  Kennin found that hard to believe. Chris Craven was the quarterback of the football team, drove a hot car, had plenty of money, and would be going to college next year. What wasn’t to like? Meanwhile, Kennin spotted the beige concrete exterior of the hospital ahead of them on the right.

  “That’s it,” he said.

  They parked and went into the orthopedic outpatient clinic. With a medical resident watching, a nervous young blond medical student cut the cast off, using a small saw with a round blade. The student kept looking over her shoulder at the resident for approval.

  “Just cut the stupid thing off already,” the resident snapped impatiently.

  “You’re not instilling much confidence,” said Mariel, who’d come into the room with Kennin.

  “People pay for confidence,” the resident replied wryly. “Your friend here gets to be a guinea pig.”

  The cast came off, and the accompanying odor made both Kennin and Mariel wrinkle their noses.

  “Don’t worry,” said the resident. “It’s just the accumulated dead skin. It’ll go away as soon as you wash the leg.”

  They gave him a cane and a booklet of exercises for his leg, then sent him on his way. Kennin couldn’t help but appreciate Mariel for staying with him the whole time, and even dealing with the smell from his leg, when she could have stayed in the waiting room and read People magazine. Maybe she wasn’t just playing him to get Chris’s attention.

  “Where to now?” Mariel asked when they were back in the IS300.