Angry, hurt, and disgusted, he heard someone cal his name.
Pausing, he saw Tyree, Alan, and Mike across the street, hanging outside a tourist bead and mask store. They waved him over.
Nick crossed the street to tap his fist against theirs. “What’s up?”
Tyree leaned his head back in silent salute to him.
“Hanging. What you doing?”
“Heading home.”
Tyree slapped at the col ar of Nick’s orange shirt. “Boy, what you got on? That shit’s hideous.”
Nick slapped his hand away. “Clothes. What’s that crap you got on and what truck did it fal off of?” Tyree snorted and preened. “These my Romeo threads.
They make al the ladies cal me tasty.” Nick scoffed. “Tasty-crazy. Them ain’t no Romeo duds.
Those fashions by Geek Street.”
They al laughed.
Mike sobered. “Look, we got a thing tonight and we could use a fourth. You want in? It should be worth a couple hundred dol ars to you.”
Nick’s eyes widened at the sum. That was a lot of money.
Tyree, Mike, and Alan were hustlers. Though his mom would have a stroke if she ever found out, he’d been known to help them a time or two when they’d scammed locals and tourists.
“Pool, poker, or craps?”
Alan and Tyree exchanged an amused look. “This is more a job of watchdog. At least for you. We got the big boss from Storyvil e who’s paying us to shake down some deadbeats.
It’l only take a couple of minutes.”
Nick screwed his face up. “I don’t know about that.” Tyree tsked. “C’mon, Nick. We don’t have much time before we have to be there and we real y need someone to watch the street. Five minutes and you’l make more money than working a month for that old lady.”
Nick looked back toward his mom’s club. Normal y, he’d have told them to forget it, but right now …
If everyone’s going to call me a worthless delinquent, I might as well be one.
’Cause living right sure wasn’t paying off for him. “You sure it’s five minutes?”
Tyree nodded. “Absolutely. In and out and we’re done.” Then he could be home and his mom wouldn’t be the wiser.
For once, he enjoyed the thought of sticking it to her, even though she would never know about it. “Al right. I’m in.”
“Good man.”
Nick looked at Alan, who was nineteen. “Can you guys give me a ride home after?”
“For you, boy? Anything.”
Nodding, Nick fol owed them over to a seedy part of North Rampart. Tyree put him on the street, blocking an al ey.
“You stay right here and watch for the Five-O. Let us know if you see anyone.”
Nick inclined his head to him.
They vanished into the shadows while he stood there, waiting. After a few minutes, an old couple walked past him on the sidewalk. By their dress and manners, he could tel they were tourists just taking a late strol off the beaten path.
“Hi there,” the woman said to him, smiling.
“Hi.” Nick returned the expression. But his smile died an instant later when Alan leapt out of the shadows to grab the woman while Tyree knocked the man into a wal .
Nick was stunned. “What are you doing?”
“Shut up!” Alan snarled, pul ing out a gun. “Al right, grandpa.
Give us your money or the old ho gets it right between her eyes.”
Nick felt the color drain from his face. This couldn’t be happening. They were mugging two tourists?
And I’m helping. . . .
For a ful minute he couldn’t breathe as he watched the woman cry and the man beg them not to hurt her.
Before he even realized what he was doing, he grabbed Alan’s hand that held the gun and knocked it away. “Run!” he shouted at the couple.
They did.
Tyree started after them, but Nick tackled him to the ground.
Alan caught him by the col ar of his shirt and jerked him back. “Man, what are you doing?”
Nick shoved him. “I can’t let you mug someone. That wasn’t the deal.”
“You stupid …” Alan hit him in the face with the gun.
Pain exploded in Nick’s skul as he tasted blood.
“You’re going to pay for that, Gautier.” The three of them descended on him so fast and furious that he couldn’t even see to fight back. One minute he was standing and the next he was on the ground with his arms wrapped around his head to protect it from the gun Alan was beating him with. They stomped and beat on him until he lost al feeling in his legs and one arm.
Alan stepped back and angled the gun on him. “Say your prayers, Gautier. You’re about to become a statistic.”
CHAPTER 2
Nick wanted to lash out so badly he could taste it. I won’t die like this. Not beaten in a gutter by people who’re supposed to be my friends. Guys I’ve known and played with my whole life. I won’t.
Yet here he lay.
Helpless. Weak.
Defeated.