Excerpt of new fiction novel<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Excerpt, Chapter Two f<\/span>rom Half Outlaw by Alex Temblador. Used with the permission of the publisher, Blackstone Publishing. Copyright \u00a92022 by Alex Temblador<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/span><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

*language advisory*<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Present<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

1990, thirty-one years old<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I dreamed about the Red River, just north of Wichita Falls, Texas. The muddy brown water with a slight red tinge separated Texas and Oklahoma like a mother holding her two children apart.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     In the dream, my mother and I sat on a picnic blanket on the shore of the river. Her pale skin burned bright red from a sunburn. It contrasted with her yellow bikini. My father wore a black hat and swim trunks. Unlike his wife, his tan skin darkened under the Texas sun.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     My mother pointed to the middle of the river and said, \u201cTom, go get that for me.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     My father replied, \u201cOkay, Jean,\u201d and walked into the fast-moving current.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     I barely remembered our time at the river, hardly remembered my parents at all, but I knew this wasn\u2019t what had happened that day. I wanted to cry out for my father to stop, but I couldn\u2019t. Nothing would come out. He walked farther into the river until finally, the dirty red water covered his head and he disappeared. My mother stood up and said, \u201cRaquel, I\u2019m going to help your father,\u201d and then followed him in.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     Panic built in my chest as I stood up and took a few steps forward. The muddy water nearly covered the top of my mother\u2019s sandy blond hair when I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. It pulled my attention. That smell . . . it didn\u2019t belong here. I looked behind me at the scraggly Mesquite trees surrounded by brush. I was alone. Turning back to the Red River, I realized my mother had disappeared without a witness.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     The shrill sound of the phone ringing woke me from my sleep.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cHello?\u201d Trevor had picked up the phone.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     I put the pillow over my head, pissed off at being woken up in the middle of the night. I hated when anything interrupted my sleep\u2014sex included.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cRaqi, it\u2019s for you.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     I groaned into the mattress. Not another legal emergency. I moved the pillow beneath my head, catching my long brown hair for one second before I yanked it out, then grabbed the phone from him. Trevor fell back onto his pillow and rubbed his eyes, pushing the curled cord away from his face but to no avail.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cWhat?\u201d I said sharply into the receiver.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cIt\u2019s me,\u201d a deep, scratchy voice said.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     I now wished for a legal emergency, any other emergency beyond the one Billy was about to lay on me.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cBilly, I already told you I\u2019m not doing shit for you anymore. Whoever he is, he can rot in jail for all I care\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cYou\u2019ll do whatever the fuck\u2014\u201d Billy snapped.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cThe hell I will\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cRaqi, shut up. I\u2019m calling about something else.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     Billy only called to have me bail out one of his Lawless. I couldn\u2019t do it anymore. People were beginning to label me as that lawyer<\/span> with those criminals<\/span>. I didn\u2019t put in so many years of hard work to be associated with the drug-dealing motorcycle club I had tried so hard to escape. The one thing I\u2019d kept from my time with them was my foul mouth\u2014but that fit right in with the cutthroat world of Los Angeles law. That and my tattoo . . . But I had plans to get rid of it soon.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     There was only one other reason Billy might call.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cI won\u2019t do shit for Dodge either,\u201d I said.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cYou won\u2019t have to.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cMeaning?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cHe\u2019s dead.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     I had expected this call, in fact, years ago. Heroin, meth, coke\u2014name it, he did it all.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cDrugs?\u201d I asked.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cHeart attack.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     Surprising . . . though drugs could cause heart attacks, too.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cSo, you\u2019re calling me because . . . ?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cWe ride out on Friday. Meet me and the club at Dodge\u2019s that morning.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cYou\u2019re a dumb son of a bitch if you think\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cGoddamn it, Raqi!\u201d Billy yelled. I pulled the phone away, my ear ringing with the volume of his voice. A crash echoed in the background. He\u2019d probably kicked a chair.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cBe there at nine in the morning, or goddamn it, I\u2019ll drive up to that gated community of rich slickers, kick your little Black boy\u2019s ass, and drag you on this ride. Do you hear me?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     I squeezed the plastic phone, itching to slam it against the bed frame. \u201cRacist asshole,\u201d I muttered.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    Trevor sat up in bed and mouthed, \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d I was sure he\u2019d heard Billy. My stomach clenched in embarrassment.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     I gave my head a hard shake. He tried to touch my arm, but I jerked away. Trevor knew better than to try it again, so he crossed his sinewy arms and laid back on the bed. If he interrogated me after, he\u2019d lose. He wasn\u2019t half as ruthless of a lawyer as I was.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cYou can\u2019t bully me into coming,\u201d I told Billy through gritted teeth.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cNo, but I\u2019ll give you something you want if you do.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     What did he have? My mind raced, and I stopped breathing. Billy waited, drawing out the silence like a long, stringy piece of cheese that stretched between a bite of pizza and its slice. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     Finally, he said, \u201cGo on this ride and I\u2019ll give you an address.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     What was Billy talking about? \u201cWhose address?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cYour grandfather\u2019s.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     Another punch. \u201cWhich\u2014?\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cYour dad\u2019s.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     My hand gripped the receiver so tightly I could hear the strain of the plastic trying to stay together. My grandfather. My Mexican grandfather. I had no idea he was alive. I thought Dodge was the only family I had left after my parents died in a car crash. I\u2019d always believed that if there was anyone else, anyone<\/span>, I would have been sent to them and not Dodge. How did Billy get this information?<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cWell?\u201d Billy asked.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     As I thought about his offer, the spiral cord of the phone wrapped around my neck and squeezed slowly, leaving behind deep impressions of rubbery waves. The world had played a horrible trick giving a little brown girl to a racist white man with a substance abuse problem. Now, Billy was telling me that there was someone else, someone from my Mexican side, my dad\u2019s side, someone who might look like me, might even be a decent human being. It became harder and harder to breathe as the cord cut off my breathing supply. I couldn\u2019t say no to this offer, or else I\u2019d suffocate.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cFine,\u201d I choked out, loosening my grip on the phone as the cord loosened its grip on me. \u201cIf I go, you give me the address and <\/span>I\u2019m out for good. No more legal assistance for you or the Lawless, no more calls. No contact\u2014ever.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     Billy remained silent. I held my breath.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cDeal,\u201d he said.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     I inhaled deeply, not quite believing it had worked.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cFriday then, and don\u2019t forget to cut your hair,\u201d he added.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cI\u2019m not cutting my hair. That\u2019s a ridiculous tradition.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cThat\u2019s your uncle and you\u2019ll do it, damn it,\u201d Billy replied.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     My body had started to relax into the mattress, craving to go back to sleep, and yet my mind reeled with this news. \u201cWhatever,\u201d I said, hoping that would be enough to get him off the phone.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     Billy sighed heavily, and the smell of the three glasses of whiskey he had consumed wafted through the phone. Dodge\u2019s passing weighed hard on his black soul.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cThey\u2019ll be glad to see you,\u201d Billy said.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cI bet they\u2019ll throw me a ball.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cFuck you,\u201d he said, then hung up.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     I gave the phone to Trevor, and he placed it on the receiver.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cThe Lawless?\u201d he asked.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     \u201cNo, it was bloody fucking Christ.\u201d I turned away and onto my side, glancing at the tattoo on my upper arm. The one I tried so hard to hide. The one where tiny droplets of blood now rose from the faded black Gothic lettering, fresh ink to darken it after years of neglect. It wanted to look its best when it returned home.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     Trevor wrapped his arms around me, cupping my left breast. He pulled me close to nibble on my ear. I pulled away and closed my eyes. Neither of us moved for a few seconds, but then I felt his arms squeeze me a little tighter. He kissed my neck and whispered, \u201cI love you.\u201d Although I was annoyed and frustrated by Billy\u2019s call, Trevor\u2019s kisses felt good.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

     What the hell? I was already wide-the-fuck-awake.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n