Again, I kept my tone even. “I need to talk to him.”
Lighting a joint, Nadia took a deep inhale before holding it out. I was anxious to find Eliazar but didn’t want to give it away. Or go in totally blind. I took a quick hit, not enough to affect me.
“I know Bash is pretty quiet,” Nadia said, “but don’t mistake it. He’s just as dangerous as Chi-chi. I wouldn’t want him as an enemy.”
I blinked at her blunt words.
She kept her gaze on me as I asked, “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I like you,muchacho. It made me a little sad when Chi-chi brought you guys in. Not that anyone turns him down for anything.” She took another hit. “And those guys on the couch over there know Chi-chi wouldn’t like them shooting up in his living room. But they were a lot less afraid of pissing him off than they were of Bash when he ordered everyone out of the basement half an hour ago.”
“He what?”
“I just said. He went down there with youramigo. Told them to fuck off. He didn’t want to be disturbed.”
I glanced at the door to the basement before staring back at her. “Eliazar’s one of my best friends.”
She nodded. “Your funeral.”
I took a deep breath and began walking through the kitchen.
Nadia called after me. “Deck—”
“Hmm?”
“When you get to the bottom of the stairs, there’s a metal baseball bat propped up in the corner.”
I dipped my chin. “Good to know.”
“You didn’t hear it from me.”
“No. I never even saw you today.”
I crept down the stairs one by one, gritting my teeth at every creak and groan of the old wood.
The bat was exactly where Nadia said it would be. I reached for it carefully.
The basement comprised one large main room and two walled-off corners that passed for small bedrooms. An old almond-colored washer and dryer were shoved up against the back wall. By some miracle, the dryer was running, which helped disguise the sound of my footsteps.
Mismatched couches and recliners were crammed into the main room, along with a scratched-up dining table Chi-chi used for “business.” I’d always assumed that meant cutting product, but since I didn’t spend much time down here, I didn’t know for sure. The room was empty, and I could imagine Bash ordering people out exactly as Nadia described. The zombies may have moved their most importantstuffupstairs, but cans and bottles covered the coffee table. Smoke swirled up from a giant ashtray in the center, where cigarettes had burned down into long, slender fingers of ash.
My heart thumped in time with the tumble of the dryer. I gripped the bat tighter.
Both bedroom doors were closed, but there was noise coming from behind one. As I neared it, I heard the crying sound clearly. Specifically, Eliazar crying.
“No… Fuck… Please.”
Everything in me wanted to barrel in there and put a stop to whatever was happening. But I had to be smart. I’d onlyhave the element of surprise once. Bash had done me a favor by dismissing the potential audience from our encounter, so I needed to use that to my advantage.
Assuming I wasn’t too scared to use the bat.
I’d been in a few fights, but I didn't think of myself as a fighter. I punched when I had to, but didn’t love it or seek it out the way some guys did. My friends and I were more talkers. Well, maybe not Cruz. He loved to fight.
But Cruz wasn’t there, and I was. And I would fuck Bash up for hurting Eliazar.
“Bash…pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease.”
The anguished whine strengthened my resolve, along with the loud slap that followed it.
