Page 32 of Shadows of Justice

My leg bounces as I stare at the street, waiting for Leo to join me. My stomach is in knots, all of this clandestine bullshit really starting to give me anxiety.

An older model Chevy Malibu pulls into the lot, its windows darkened so much that I can’t see the driver. My heart kicks into overdrive and I hold my breath, my mind racing for what the fuck I’m supposed to do now. I pop the locks on my gun case, push a preloaded magazine into my Glock and rest it on my thigh, staring at the Malibu as it pulls up right next to me.

For a few achingly long moments nothing happens. The windows on my own car are not dark by any means, but I can’t see into the other car in the slightest. I start to put my car into drive to get the fuck out of here, when the Malibu’s window rolls down.

Leo’s aviator-clad face stares back at me. He jerks his head, beckoning me over.

What the hell?

I peek around one last time, irritation replacing adrenaline, and shut off my car. I put my gun under my seat and get out to climb into his. Once I sit down, I have a hard time concealing my surprise. The interior of Leo’s car is decked out like a spy lab. He has all sorts of equipment in here, from a police radio scanner to a mounted iPad. Most of what I’m looking at I can’t identify, and my confusion must show on my face, because he’s smiling at me when I finally look at him.

“What is this, the Bat Mobile?”

“The majority of it is surveillance equipment. Most of it’s legal,” he says, shrugging.

“I thought you were in a truck. You scared the shit out of me!”

“I had to be certain,” he says. “A prevalent gang has their eye on me. If we’re seen together, you could be in danger.” He runs a hand over his scruff. “And, there’s nothing wrong with being cautious. It’s how I’ve gotten this far.”

“About that,” I say, “if you want to make changes so badly, why hide in the shadows?” I motion toward the earlier-deemed “legal” equipment covering his car. “If what you’re doing is ‘legal,’ then why do it anonymously?”

“The sale for the MG-T12 may have been legal, but not all of my items are, or the materials used for what I do. But that’s not the point. I’m thirty-four. I’ve come a long way, but I wasn’t always here, doing what I do now. There were times in my life that I had to do things that I wasn’t proud of to get by. Desperate times. Those things would catch up to me if I wasn’t anonymous.”

“But you said you have information,” I argue. “If you worked with the FBI, you could work out a deal. Get things expunged.”

“You watch too many crime shows. They aren’t handing those deals out like free T-shirts,” Leo says.

“Have you ever even tried?”

He looks at me sharply, his irritation showing. I’m clearly getting on his nerves, but I want to know why he can’t just try to straighten up and fly right. His heart is clearly in the right place. Surely that would be an easier life than the one he’s living?

He pushes out a breath, suddenly looking tired. I wonder how much he’s slept since this all started.

“It’s not worth the risk. I have obligations. Shit that rides on me,” he says. “I can’t risk just walking into a US government building to start making demands.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of being a wanted man? Of looking over your shoulder?”

His dark eyes narrow at me, an indistinguishable emotion flashing in the onyx pools. “I don’t need my life to change,” he says. “Why does it bother you so much?”

Good fucking question.

My face heats, and I have to break our eye contact so that he can’t scrutinize me even more.

“It doesn’t bother me,” I say, scoffing like the idea is ridiculous. “I just can’t imagine that this is exactly what you want in life. That’s all.”

He smirks knowingly at me, and says, “I said that I have obligations, not desires. It’s not a choice for me to make. This is my life. It’s not going to change. The good I can do from here is enough for me. The rest, well, I guess that’s where you come in.”

I pick at a loose thread in the knee hole of my jeans.

It is embarrassing how much this bothers me. So what if he wants to live outside the law? It shouldn’t matter to me. Just like Tim attacking me shouldn’t matter to him.

I know all of this, but the question is still burning so brightly in my mind I can’t resist.

“What sort of obligations?”

He chuckles and runs his hand through the loose waves that brush the back of his neck.

“Ay, Dios mío, you ask a lot of questions,” he says. “I didn’t come here to discuss my life, I came here because I picked up on a call between Tres and another Dog. I think it was T-Bone by the sound of him.” Right away I recognize the street name for wanted Valley Dog member Tomás Negron. “They’re planning a hit on a their rivals in the cocaine trade, a Korean gang—K213,” Leo continues. “The leader of K213—Taeyang Chun—is hosting his daughter’s wedding one week from today, the wedding to take place deep in Koreatown.” He starts tapping on the iPad and brings up a file. “How much Spanish do you know?”

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