Chapter 17 Joseph

“Has anyone seen Tony?”

I sat in the living room with Yasmin and Michael, glancing at the clock. It was already one o’clock. He’d been gone all morning.

“Who knows,” Yasmin muttered. She tensed at his name. Something happened last night.

I stood up. “I’m gonna go look for him.”

Michael pushed himself off the couch. “I’ll come with you.”

I pointed at him. “Wait here.”

He hesitated, then sank back down, wringing his little hands.

Outside, the heat pressed against me. I scanned the yard. No sign of him.

I headed toward the plaza. Someone had to have seen him.

When I got there, three well-dressed men leaned against the gnarled tree. Their expensive shirts looked out of place in the dust and heat. Their eyes flickered to me, and smirks crawled onto their faces. My stomach twisted.

I stepped away like I’d accidentally walked into a lion’s den.

The plaza was mostly empty. A few shopkeepers dusted off their stands, waiting for customers.

Then I spotted Yasmin, reading King Lear under the tree.

“Have you seen Tony?”

She sighed loudly, closing her book with deliberate slowness. “No, I haven’t seen the spoiled brat.”

That was weird.

“Tony is a spoiled asshole,” I agreed, “but I still have to take him home after this. Can’t go home empty-handed.”

She exhaled through her nose. “I know. He just frustrates me.”

“Story of my life.”

She gave me a half-smirk, but when I told her I hadn’t seen him since breakfast, her expression darkened.

Now I had to make sure he wasn’t lost.

We spent the next two hours combing through the plaza, asking shopkeepers if they’d seen Tony.

Nothing.

My mouth went dry. My heart pounded.

Where did he go? Am I gonna have to attend two funerals?

“Joseph.”

I didn’t hear her at first. I was too deep in my own head.

“Joseph.”

A hand grabbed my arm.

I blinked. Yasmin was looking at me. “Tony is fine,” she said firmly. “He just got lost. He’s probably as scared as you are and is waiting for us to find him.”

Her voice steadied me. A little.

Three o’clock.

Still no sign of him.

But those three guys at the tree? They knew something.

They hadn’t moved. Just stood there, watching me as I begged strangers for help. Enjoying the sight of me unraveling.

I walked straight up to them.

“You sure you didn’t see a kid walk around here?”

The one in ostrich-skin boots grinned. A gold tooth flashed from his mouth.

The second wore a white cowboy hat and a burgundy button-up.

The third, the least friendly-looking one, had a gold rope chain, a slit eyebrow, and a Ralph Lauren polo.

Ostrich Boots chuckled. “We’re humble paisanos. Just been hanging here.”

“It’s a little early to dress like you’re going to the club,” I shot back.

Yasmin tugged on my arm, whispering, “Let’s go.”

But I didn’t move.

Ostrich Boots smirked. “We care about how we look.”

“And you haven’t seen him?”

He rolled his eyes and said, “No we haven’t seen your brother.”

The smirk didn’t leave his face. 

“That’s good to know. But I never mentioned the person I’m looking for is my brother. I just said I’m looking for a kid.”

The white cowboy hat guy laughed under his breath.

Ostrich Boots grinned wider. “Your brother is one big huevón, mijito.”

My fists clenched. “Just tell me where he is.”

Yasmin pulled at my arm again. “Joseph—”

Ostrich Boots leaned in, voice silky. “Check the dumpsters. He’s in the pretty place where the flowers grow, enjoying a little medicina.”

My stomach dropped.

“What the hell does that mean?” I demanded.

But I didn’t wait for an answer. I swung.

My fist smashed into Ostrich Boots’ nose. It crunched like hitting Silly Putty.

Pain shot up my knuckles, but I didn’t care. He staggered back, cursing.

Then White Cowboy Hat and Slit Eyebrow lunged at me.

I grabbed Yasmin’s hand. We ran.

We tore through a shop selling rosaries and Santa Muerte statues.

The two men chased after us.

“Left!” Yasmin panted, pulling me through a beaded doorway.

We burst into a narrow alley.

I yanked over a garbage can. The first guy tripped, dragging the second one down with him.

They crashed into moldy bananas and black mole. Their fancy clothes were ruined.

I didn’t stop to see their reaction. We kept running.

Finally, we turned a corner and stopped to catch our breath.

“I think I know where he is,” Yasmin gasped.

The alleyways behind the plaza were cramped, stacked with crates, old tarps, and broken furniture. The smell of rotten meat and stale beer clung to the air.

We passed doorways without doors. Voices drifted from inside rooms, snippets of conversations we weren’t meant to hear.

The further we walked, the worse the stench got.

Then I saw it.

A figure lying face down beside a dumpster.

My blood turned cold.

“Tony!”

I ran to him. Bruises covered his face. His shirt was stamped with boot prints. His arms had cuts.

Those bastards jumped him.

I bent down and pressed my fingers under his nose. Air.

Thank God.

“Tony.” My voice broke. His eyes fluttered open.

For a moment, relief filled them.

“Joseph.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

I hooked my arm under his. Yasmin grabbed the other. He winced as we lifted him onto a milk crate.

“Go get your aunt and uncle,” I told Yasmin.

She nodded and ran.

Tony sat there, curled in on himself, his arm wrapped around his stomach.

He wouldn’t look at me.

“Tony.”

No response.

“Why did you walk out here alone?” My voice was steady, but my hands were shaking. “I feel like you’re hiding something.”

He kept his eyes on the ground. His fingers twitched against his jeans. He was thinking.

Finally, he exhaled. “I don’t want to be here.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Not just physically.” His voice was flat. “Mentally either.”

I didn’t follow.

His jaw clenched. “I took a couple of Aunt Margaret’s pills. Just to make these three days blur. Fade away.”

My stomach twisted.

“So you took two?”

His head snapped up. His eyes widened. “Yes, just two. One time on the bus. And now. That’s it.”

He was pleading.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

I squatted next to him. We sat in silence.

Then I pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

Tony’s eyes flicked to the lighter. He stared.

“You’re not the only one with secrets,” I muttered.

Tony didn’t say anything. He just nodded, silent understanding passing between us.

No bickering. No smart remarks.

Just quiet.

For the first time, I felt like Tony and I were on the same wavelength.

And we waited for Yasmin to come back.