Please forgive me if you speak Spanish and take offense to the way Spanish words or phrases are used. I'm not a native Spanish speaker and had to use a translation dictionary. WARNING: This chapter contains violence and hints of dub-con and underage sex.

Chapter 4: King In Exile

Cesar's POV:

"Buenas noches, primo! Como es tu día?"

Cesar chuckled. His cousin Rico always spoke in a formal dialect, even if his conversation was informal. His mother was from Spain, but his father, Cesar's uncle, was from Mexico. Their only son stood 6'9" with gargantuan muscles, dusky brown skin, and neatly trimmed hair. He envied his older cousin for Rico's physique, which had developed long before his brief career as a high school linebacker.

The two men hugged each other in the waiting area of Unity Station. As usual, Cesar felt smaller than usual in his cousin's embrace. "Carnal, primo. I just drove in from Angel Pine." They sat side by side, and the lean Latino glanced around the waiting area. The two men were not meeting because of their familial ties. "Donde es tu comprador?"

Rico shrugged his broad shoulders then reclined on the wooden bench. "Don't know. Tal vez, La Rifa does business late. I'm early anyway."

"Cuando es temprano a ti?"

"Don't play me like one of those negro putas tu follas, primo." Rico socked Cesar in his shoulder, like he used to do when they were teenagers.

"Don't call my woman no puta, Rico. Kendl is a sexy, beautiful woman, pendejo."

"My bad." Rico scanned the waiting area. "You remember how we used to wrestle when we were kids?"

Cesar recalled the lessons with unease.

'"This is called a suplex, primo."

'"I can't move! Ugh! Your thing is touching me! Get off!"

'"Make me get off, Cesar! Come on!"'

"Yeah. You had just started football camp, and told me I needed to get stronger too."

"Because you was a scrawny runt then, primo. Eleven years old and no muscles! Look at you now."

"Yeah, I been hitting the weights with mi hermano CJ."

"Nothing's as good as wrestling though. Remember how we used to wrestle with our shirts off?"

'"Look at that scrawny chest!"

'"Quit hittin' me, homes!"

'"Primo, you hang with those negros too much. You ever seen them with their shirts off? Or their pants?" Cesar nodded. He remembered.

"Ay primo, I don't trust these fools."

"What's wrong? Just call up your boys and have them bring the ammo."

"Something ain't right about them."

"Don't you trust me, primo?" Rico had earned his trust time and again, summer after summer. In their furtive meetings at Rico's home, Cesar disclosed to the older boy secrets he shared with no others.

'"I've never kissed a muchacha before."

'"Don't worry," Rico had said, "I'll teach you how to do it." They were shirtless that night in the attic because of the high West Texas heat.'

Rico's phone rang, and he immediately answered it. "Hello?...Yeah….Uh huh…No, no necessito, no necessito….Si." He closed the phone and stood from the bench. "My boys from San Fierro, they waiting for us in the parking lot."

"Ok." Cesar followed his beefy cousin outside. Before they stepped through the doors, the lean Hispanic called his Azteca brothers to bring the car loaded with weapons and ammo to them. Three men wearing San Fierro Rifa turquoise and black leaned against a sage green Tampa. In the space beside them, three Aztecas in a lime green Savanna bobbed their heads in time to the beat of Kid Frost's "La Raza."

"Yo, Cesar." The driver of the Savanna motioned to the leader of the Aztecas. "I don't feel so good about all this. Maybe we should cut this deal short."

"Relax, Adan. My familia set this up. We can trust them."

Adan got out the car and popped the trunk. "Comprende, Capitan." Even though the Aztecas had no official titles, the younger gangstas deferentially referred to Cesar as their captain. He didn't object to it, as long as it kept disputes to a minimum.

All eight men gathered around the trunk. Four neatly arranged wooden crates rested inside. "Donde es our dinero?" Adan demanded of Rico.

Rico stepped forward and leaned into the trunk. Cesar studied both his cousin and the Rifa. He was still caught off guard when the gunshot echoed through the parking lot, and Adan sagged to his knees with a bloody hole in his stomach.

Everything was a blur from then on.

Cesar remembered sprinting through Unity Station at top speed as bullets whizzed by him. He fired a few rounds from his own gun, a silencer, but didn't stop running to make sure the bullets hit. He would recall for years seeing Javier, Adan, and Perro all go down protecting him, their leader, as he ran. In his nightmares, he would recollect blood gushing from Adan's head, and Javier promising to provide cover while bleeding copiously from his leg. Perro stood guard at the doors to Unity Station and was riddled with bullets intended for Cesar.

They died because of him.

He didn't remember getting into his car or driving through downtown Los Santos. The Rifa chased him in an armored car, but an experienced race junkie like Cesar Vialpando never hopped a curb or hit another vehicle. 'Gotta get home, get my warriors together, and eliminate these vatos.' Cesar's cell phone rang on the seat beside him. "Hola?"

"Como estas, primo!"

Cesar gripped the wheel in anger. "Rico, you fuckin' puto!"

'"You be the girl, primo, and I'll be the boy."

'"I thought you was going to teach me how to kiss? I should be the boy, pendejo."

'"Nah, Cesar, I gotta show you how a man kisses his lady first, comprende? Gotta show you how to make a woman feel good."'

"Where you going, huh, primo? You going home to El Corona?"

"Yeah, and I'm gonna blast you to meet El Dios y tu padre, motherfucker!" Cesar pulled a sharp left in front of the police precinct. He was almost there.

"You wasting your time, primo. You ain't got no home, no gang, no familia no more."

Rico's words settled into Cesar's heart with an icy chill. "Que?"

'"See, cousin, you get hard when you kissing a girl porque it feels good. You want to fuck her, see her panocha, taste it. Makes you hard just thinking about it, huh?"

'"Yeah, Rico, but I'm a boy! Why am I getting hard from kissing you?"

'"It's not wrong, cousin. See? I get ereccion too."'

"You think Rifa was just taking you out, primo?" Rico chuckled cruelly. "Nah. Ballas, Rifa, and Vagos, we taking out all the Aztecas. You got nowhere to go, Cesar!"

"Fuckin' pig!" Rico exploded with laughter. As Cesar sped into the Verdant Bluffs neighborhood, he spotted groups of Hermes and Tornadoes classic cars blocking every street leading from his block. A fierce gunfight was winding to a conclusion in the middle of the street. The Aztecas were few against an army of dozens of Vagos and Rifa soldiers.

"It doesn't have to be like that, primo."

"What you mean?"

"Let's just say someone higher up wants you to live and put in work for them."

'"Rico, Rico, Rico! I kissed a girl for the first time!"

'"Bueno! Did you get her panocha mojada?"

'"Um, I don't know."

'"Let me show you what to do to get that sweet polvo. You gotta kiss and touch her just right, just like I'm touching you, primo."

'"No lo creo, primo. This feels weird."

'"Suavizó Cesar. Just follow my lead. Put your hand right here."

'"No, Rico. I don't want to do it no more."

'"Be quiet and do what I say. You gonna get so much polvo."'

Cesar's ire rose to a feverish pitch. "Fuck no." He reached into his passenger seat as the Savanna approached the end of Willowfield at the highway that stretched from Santa Maria Beach to Las Venturas. The Azteca leader opened his driver door, leaned out, and as he steered the car onto the highway, expertly shot out the front tires of the armored truck with three shots. Cesar hung up the phone to the sound of Rico's violent curses and laughed to himself.

Then a bullet pierced his left shoulder blade.