Four
Amber
I struggled to open my car door when I left the prison. I walked out into the Merced sun, dazed and confused about what I’d just witnessed. The lump in my throat was firmly lodged as I threw my paperwork and purse onto the front seat. Oh hubba, hubba what a hunk of a man. He belonged in a magazine with that chiseled jaw and those delicious toned, sinewy arms. Lucy had been right. If she only knew how much.
I hoped the flush of hot lust didn’t show on my face too much when I met him. I made every attempt to keep everything professional. Even the way his lips moved as he talked turned me on. The whole fifteen-minute car ride back to the office, all I saw was those iceberg-blue eyes. From the way his eyes mowed me down, I figured the feelings of attraction were mutual. Then again, the guy had been cooped up with men for the last four and a half years.
I parked in my usual spot. I fluffed my hair and took a tissue to my face and between my boobs to wipe the sweat away. Some of the heat, however, didn’t just come from the sun. I sauntered into the office, welcoming the cool of the air conditioning. I snuck into my desk. I didn’t want Lucy to hound me about the visit. I feared I would give myself away if she saw my face.
I shuffled and played with the paperwork on my desk for way too long. I had a pile of reports to check in with. First, I needed some tea to calm my racing heart down. Colt Winters. Amber Winters. It had a nice ring to it. I shook off the thought of last names and headed to the break room kitchen. I had my phone with me. I glanced at it briefly as it went off with a text. It was my little brother, Hector. What did he want?
I hummed joyfully to myself and made a cup of instant coffee. That prison visit had me in the right mood. I finished pouring my coffee and snuck a few cookies from the staff jar. I bit into the chocolatey goodness and read my text.
Call me. I have something urgent to tell you.
A troubled frown came over my face. Uh-oh. I put my two hands on either side of the counter and hung my head a little. My brother Hector was only twenty-five years old and had already served one year at USP Atwater for assault and armed robbery. Luckily, he took a plea bargain to reduce his sentence. He broke the code and snitched on a couple of people, but he did the right thing in my mind. He survived. The memory of me picking him up from Atwater flashed through my mind.
The first thing I told him was, “Stay out of trouble. You’ve done your time now. You’re on twelve months probation and two hundred hours of community service. You have to keep your nose clean.”
He’d given me a sloppy kiss on the side of my face and hugged me. I’d wiped it off in disgust. “Love you, Amber. Thanks for holding it down.”
“You’re welcome, and I’m so glad you’re home. I love you.” My heart felt lighter now that he was home, but given the text message I’d just received, it was starting to shrink again.
I took my cup of coffee and cookies out back, away from prying eyes and ears.
“Hi,” I said cagily.
I sat down on the backstep. The sunshine hit the left side of my face, making me squint. I placed my coffee beside me, dunked my cookie in the hot liquid, and bit into it. I tried to keep my crunching away from the phone.
“Hey,” Hector replied flatly.
“What’s wrong, baby bro? You sound down.” A large truck rumbled past, and I waited to hear his answer after it passed.
“I got a situation,” he replied warily.
My back became erect as I honed my ears to listen. “What kind of trouble are you talking about, Hector?”
He released a large breath into the phone. “The Las Balas crew. Apparently, there’s a hit out on me. They’re trying to pin me for a prison debt. I’m in big shit, Amber. I need some help.”
Cool, calm, and collected is how I responded with clients when they presented their problems to me. After all, I was a social worker and was used to dissecting people’s lives without judgment, putting the pieces of the puzzles back together. I held the phone away from my face and stared at it blankly.
“Hector. Are you serious? How do you know the threat came from Las Balas?” I replied evenly.
“It’s from them. A few of the guys I used to run with told me over beers. They wanted to warn me about it. I’m telling you because I may need to relocate until I figure it out.”
“Why should you run? What the hell are they talking about? A prison debt?” I twisted my head around to make sure no one was outside smoking and might hear me.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Hector! You called me, remember? You’re my only brother. Of course I’m worried about it. You’ve been doing so good,” I said.
“Apparently not good enough for Las Balas. They’re looking for some money that was given to me from the robbery. The cops took it, so of course, I don’t have it. There’s no way I can pay it back,” he replied desperately.
“How much is it, Hector?” My voice trembled as I lifted my coffee to my mouth. I burned my lip from misjudging the heat of it and winced. “Shit!”
“You all right?” Hector asked in a concerned voice.
“Yeah. I just burnt my lip with the coffee,” I grumbled.
“Two hundred thousand. Sorry to call you with my bullshit. I’m freaking out a little bit. Las Balas aren’t a crew I want bad blood with,” Hector said apprehensively. “I know you’re connected. You know, in the prison system. I thought—”
I cut him off. “You thought what?”
“I don’t know. That you would know somebody on the inside to help out or have a contact. Something. I’m fresh out of ideas here.”
I dunked the second half of my cookie in the coffee and tried to let my mind go someplace else. The Merced heat was starting to agitate me along with Hector. “Leave me with it, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Hey. Thanks, Amber. ‘Preciate it,” Hector groveled.
“Okay. I have to get back to work, okay? Give me a couple of days, and we’ll come up with a plan.”
That’s what I did—came up with plans for everyone else other than myself. I had no real complaints, just every now and then it wore me down. I grimaced as I rose from the concrete step. As I looked at the clock, I noted I only had a couple of hours to go, then I could retire to my safe haven with a glass of red. The remainder of my workday passed by quickly, and the pile of paperwork on my desk now looked half the size. I had my headphones on most of the time to concentrate on my cases. When I dragged my head up, it was time to go home.
As I strode out to my car with my bundle of cases to look through, I thought of my brother and me in simpler times. The fun we used to have. We would build fortresses in our backyard, and he would chase me, playing tag. Now he was fresh out of prison with a hit on him.
I rode home to the little house that I’d bought five years ago. It was set back from the main strip of Merced, and I loved it. My luscious green hanging plants welcomed me as I reached my front steps. I tapped them, and they swung silently. I loved my porch, where I could bask in the iconic California sunsets on gorgeous nights like tonight. The skyline looked like fresh cantaloupe had been spread across it. I didn’t want to miss it, so I hurried to drop my bags and pour myself a glass of wine.