need any rescuing. For now, she decided, harmâs way was going to have to give way to Diemâs way.
CHAPTER ELEVEN LAREDO, TEXAS J uan Herrara belched. His large belly was full. Two big macs and large fries. Three beers. Time for a smoke. Juan inhaled the cigarette smoke slowly and exhaled with relief. His room was a mess. Nowhere really to sit. Just a mattress on the floor. Shit everywhere. Laundry, empty cigarette boxes, random electronics, wires, and a low rider bicycle with a missing front wheel. He sat on the floor and leaned his ass and lower back against his mattress, exposing his plumberâs crack. He was playing Call of Duty on the XBOX. Rap music filled the air. He could hear his mom and her drug dealer having sex in the room next to him. The walls were thin. He leaned over to turn up the music. Fucking whore. Juan really didnât like the fact that his mom was banging a white guy. It was bad enough when other Mexicans were giving her dope for sex, but now Blanco was in the other room laying pipe. Not that he really cared that much. He hated her anyhow. Sheâd been a slave to heroin and anyone who could supply her with the drug for almost the entire eighteen years Juan had been alive. He could hear them getting louder. It made him sick. He banged on the wall. âShut the fuck up!â They kept at it. Harder, faster, louder. Then he heard a crash. Glass breaking. His mom screamed. Blanco was yelling. âYouâre not finished yet bitch. You want your fix donât ya? Weâre done when I say!â Blanco shouted. Juan got up and ran to bust open his motherâs bedroom door. She was under the covers. Crying. Blood dripping down her face. Green pieces of a broken Heineken beer bottle shattered beside her. Blanco stared at Juan with raw anger. He lifted his arm and waived Juan away. âGet the hell out of here kid. This is between your mother and me. Go back in your room you fat shit.â Juan ignored him and shook his head in disgust. He didnât even care if Blanco killed her. He just wanted them to both shut the hell up. He gave up on caring about her years ago. Juanâs mom wiped the blood and tears from her face with the bed sheets. âJust go back to your room honey. Weâre okay, just a little fight baby, thatâs all.â âWhatever, Mom.â Juan shut the door. Juan went back to his room. Back to Call of Duty. Back to the blaring hip hop. He cracked open another beer. He wished she would just die already. She doesnât do anyone any good anyway. Lazy bitch. She donât care about me or Marie. Juan took care of his sister Marie, not his mom. Now eleven, Juan had practically raised her. Heâd do anything to take care of her. He treated her like she was his daughter. He prepared her lunch every day to take to school. He walked her home from daycare. Anything she needed, heâd get her. Even if he had to steal it. She recently began menstruating and Juan researched on the Internet what a parent should tell a young girl going through puberty. He gave her the talk. Then he stole her a shit ton of tampons and pads from the drug store. Thank God Marie is at Grammaâs tonight and doesnât have to hear Mom banging Blanco and getting her ass whooped. Juan took another swig of beer. His prepaid cell rang. âYeah?â âWhatâs up? You cominâ with us tonight. Weâre heading to the clubs. Gonna act up. Find some chicas. Fuck up anyone who gets in our way.â It was Angel, one of the neighborhood guys that Juan just began hanging with. Angel used to bully Juan. Used to beat him down in front of everyone. Humiliated the hell out of him. He once gave him a huge wedgie and ripped his underwear. Right in front of Juanâs sister. Juan couldnât walk right for days. He couldnât see right for days either. Angel gave him a huge black eye that day. It was one of many. âHell yeah Iâll