I lean into the window and stab the driver in the leg. The driver cries out. The passenger scrambles to open his door, but before he can make much progress, I aim the gun once more and shoot him in the leg. He too cries out.
“Quit your crying.”
The men glare up at me again.
“I let you off easy the first time. This time was a bit more rough. The next time? I’ll kill you.”
I step back, surveying the street. Some people are out now, watching the action, but that’s it. The girl is already in her car and headed this way.
I lean into the BMW again.
“By the way, you paid those kids fifty each to take me out? I’m offended. I’d like to think a hit on me would cost a bit more.”
The driver keeps glaring at me. He spits and mumbles.
“Fuck you, puta.”
I shake my head.
“How many times do you want to get hurt?”
I press the barrel of the gun against his shoulder and pull the trigger.
The driver howls in pain.
The girl pulls up next to us. I start toward her car but pause, turn back toward the BMW.
“Remember, assholes. The third time will be the last.”
I open the door and slip into the passenger seat, and within seconds we’re gone.
Eighteen
The back doors to the ambulance slammed shut and then the ambulance started away, its lights flashing but its siren muted.
Ramon and Carlos watched until the ambulance disappeared around the corner before they turned toward the BMW and the two wounded occupants sitting on the ground beside it. Three officers stood around them, weapons in their hands.
Carlos pulled out a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and lit it.
“You guys look like shit.”
The BMW’s occupants didn’t carry any identification—even the BMW had no papers—but one of the officers knew them well enough to inform Carlos and Ramon of their first names, Hector and Pedro.
Hector—his shoulder and leg patched up by the medics, though he and his friend would still need more medical attention—glared up at Carlos and Ramon.
“Fuck, man, we’re in pain here. Why are you treating us like criminals?”
Carlos puffed on his cigarette.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you are criminals.”
“No way, man. We’re no criminals. We’re good citizens.”
“We know you two are pimps.”
“Pimps?”
Hector forced an expression of confusion.
“No way, man, we ain’t no pimps.”
Ramon said, “We also know you deal drugs.”
Now it was Pedro’s turn to force confusion.
“Drugs? No way, we don’t sell no drugs. We don’t even do no drugs.”
Carlos took one last drag on the cigarette, dropped it on the street, and then crouched down so he was on eye level with the two men.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, all right? We know who you are. We know what you do. The sooner you tell us everything, the sooner we let you get to the hospital. Now tell us, what happened here?”
Hector’s eyes widened.
“We told the other cops, man, this girl came out of nowhere and attacked us.”
Carlos said, his voice flat, “Attacked you.”
“Yeah, man. She came out of nowhere and started stabbing and shooting us. She’s crazy, man. Hope somebody catches her before she kills somebody.”
Ramon pointed across the street at where the dead landlord lay on the sidewalk.
“You mean like that?”
Hector and Pedro said nothing.
Carlos said, “So let me get this straight. Your story is that you two were parked here minding your own business when this girl came out of nowhere and attacked you. Is that right?”
Again Hector and Pedro said nothing.
“And then she, what, just happened to kill the old man over there too?”
Still nothing.
“And what about those two kids? You know, the ones who left in the ambulance? Either of you want to guess what it is they told us?”
Pedro shook his head and muttered.
“They’re kids. Probably made shit up.”
Carlos sighed and rolled his eyes at Ramon. He stood up and stepped aside so Ramon could take a shot.
Ramon stared hard first at Hector, then at Pedro, and shook his head.
“Don’t know why you guys are making this difficult on yourselves. Like my partner said, we know who you are, what you do. We know you hired those two kids to kill the girl. We know that the landlord got caught in the cross fire. Hell, we spoke to the man a half hour ago. So why don’t you save us all some time and tell us why you wanted to take the girl out.”
It didn’t look like either man was going to answer, but then Hector turned his head to spit and glared back up at Ramon.
“We don’t talk to scared cops who wear masks.”
Ramon glanced up at Carlos, then pulled down his mask to show his entire face. He leaned toward the pimps, his voice going low.
“I’m not scared of shit. Now tell me why you wanted to kill the girl.”
Hector said, “We told you, she came at us first.”
“Yeah, and like I told you, we know that’s bullshit.”
Hector shook his head.
“No, not here. Earlier.”
Ramon traded glances with Carlos. He frowned at Hector.
“Where earlier?”
“The Paraíso.”
Ramon said, “What were you doing there?”
“One of our girls, man. She hadn’t come home. We went looking for her, tried to get her back in the car. And then out of nowhere this other girl shows up.”
“The one you paid those kids to try to take out.”
“Yeah.”
“What did she do that made you want to have her taken out?”
Hector just shook his head, looked away from Ramon. Pedro did the same.
Carlos said, “We’re going to find out eventually. Might as well tell us now.”
Hector turned his head to spit again.
“Shit, man, it’s fucking embarrassing.”
“What’s embarrassing?”
“She came at us in that alleyway. She hurt us.”
Ramon echoed it: “She hurt you.”
“Yeah, man. And then she let our girl get away. We couldn’t let that shit stand. We saw what kind of car she drove off in, so we called around. We heard from one of the taxi drivers where she went. That’s when we found those kids and gave them the pieces to take
