Five
Another Word for Desperate

If God were real, Eloisa thought, he had a terrible fucking sense of humor.

"You're Lou," Nacho said flatly. Not a question.

She nodded. Maybe this would be okay. Maybe the fact that they knew each other, however briefly, would be to her advantage. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes narrowing as they settled on Nate.

"Is this a setup or something?"

Nate's face paled. "No, man. It's not- why-"

He took a step back, acting as a shield between Nacho and Eloisa. Nacho raised an eyebrow. Eloisa side-stepped Nate, giving his arm a quick squeeze to assure him that she would be okay.

"Créeme, estoy tan sorprendida como tú," she spoke quickly, cutting him off. Nate's Spanish was limited to the few curse words he'd picked on the street.

"No, no creo que lo estes. ¿Él lo sabe?"

She shook her head. "No."

If their exchange sounded strange to Nacho's buddies, they didn't show it.

"Where's the money?"

She reached back for it then hesitated. "If I give you this, promise you'll stop sniffing around my Mom's place. Everything goes through me."

"¿Ella es dura, eh?" one of the guys cracked. They both chuckled.

Nacho snorted condescendingly. "You know you're not really in a position to be making demands, right?"

She produced the envelope, holding it out to him like it was a cross that could ward him off.

"Whatever it is you're looking for; you're not going to find it there."

He yanked it out of her hand, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot while she watched him count.

"You're short."

He looked up, fixing his eyes on her like she was the only person there; a quality that would have mesmerized her two nights ago. Now it made her want to run back to Nate's truck and drive until she was out of the state.

"This is eight. I asked for ten."

"Fuck, Lou," Nate whispered and closed his eyes tightly.

"I know," Eloisa said. "It's- it's all I could get." It sounded lame and she knew it. Her determination was crumbling fast. "If I had a couple more days-"

He cut her off. "No deal."

"What- we can't work out some kind of payment system or something?"

"Do I look like a bank teller?" He nodded in the direction of the truck. "Vete a tu casa, niña."

She gritted her teeth. The humiliation she could deal with. But she had not come all this way to be sent packing with her tail between her legs and nothing to show for it. As he made to retreat to his van, she said, "No."

Nacho stopped, shoulders tensing under his jacket.

"Excuse me?"

"Lou shut up, shut up, shut up," Nate chanted under his breath.

"No," she repeated, stronger and louder this time as she stood up straight. Desperation clung to her like a second skin, making her bold and stupid.

Nacho turned and stepped toward her, anger radiating off him in waves.

"This isn't a game. You think this is a lot of money?" he asked. His hand holding the envelope twitched like he was about to hit her with it. She braced herself, but he only waved it in her face. "This is nothing. This isn't even a fraction of the shit your old man lost."

She knew APD had found drugs in a storage facility that her dad had been renting under the name of his girlfriend; salacious tidbits that the press had run rampant with, and news to his family. One without the other would have been bad enough but finding out both at the same time had destroyed her mom.

"How-" she swallowed down her fear. "How much?"

"Five million."

The scene before her tilted as though the world had tumbled on its side. She found a spot in the distance and tried to regulate her breathing. Five million. Her dad had been holding on to five million dollars worth of drugs for these people. Ten thousand was like a drop in the ocean. Even if they sold Tita's house and all their cars, it wouldn't be enough to pay it back.

"There has to be something I can do," she said weakly.

A long silence followed this as he considered her.

"I might have a job for you."

She looked up at him, praying that her face did not betray her hopefulness.

"But you pull something like this again," he waved the envelope a final time, "we'll find other ways to get what we're owed. You got that, Lou?"

"Yeah," she managed. "I got it."

"Good. Sé dónde encontrarte."

To anyone else, it would have been a throwaway statement, meant to intimidate her. Eloisa saw it for what it was: a warning.

He glanced back at his guys. "We're done here."

Nate cleared his throat and for a second time Nacho turned around, jaw clenched. He took his own envelope out of his pocket and threw it at Nate's feet. Nate picked it up and gave a small wave of thanks with it. They watched as the van cleared out. Neither he nor Eloisa said a word until they were back in the truck.

"What the fuck, Eloisa?" Nate exploded. "You were short?! You said you had it!"

"Don't even, Nate," she shouted back as she frantically tried to stave off full-blown hysterics. "Did you know!? Did you know how much he was holding for them?"

This humbled him.

"No." When she made a noise like an angry cat he insisted again, "No! I swear, I had no idea. Ray said he was taking on some extra work for these guys to make a little more money to help with your grandma's bills." He ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't ask, and he didn't tell me anything else."

"Extra work." She turned away to look out the window as he started the truck. "Right."

Her mind reeled as a million questions went speeding through. What had her dad been doing with all of those drugs? Where had his money been going? Because it sure as hell hadn't been to them. Nor had it gone to his girlfriend, who had boldly attended both the small funeral and the reading of her father's will.

They hadn't wanted her there, but the lawyer insisted they try to play nice. Probably so he didn't have to deal with her alone. She remembered how the woman, a dancer barely older than Angela named Katrina, had dramatically thrown her chair back after finding out that she had been mentioned only to say that her apartment had been paid up through the year.

"I gave him the best eight months of his life! And that's all I get?"

It was the breaking point for Eloisa. She had tried to be civil all day while also putting on a brave face for everyone else and she couldn't do it anymore. She grabbed Katrina by the arm and dragged her out into the hallway. Nate, who had been waiting for them, sprang to his feet.

"You'd better get the fuck out of here. Right now," Eloisa demanded, her voice even for how much rage seemed to be building in her chest. "Or else."

"You think you scare me?" Katrina sneered. "Do you know the people that I know? You have no idea what Ray-"

Katrina didn't get to finish her thought. Later Eloisa would understand that the mention of her father's name had made her snap, but she shoved Katrina so hard that she stumbled backward. She teetered on her high heels before falling squarely on her behind.

For a moment, no one moved. Then Katrina shrieked with rage, clambering to her feet and ready to fight. She grabbed a fistful of Eloisa's hair and pulled her forward. With one arm trying to dislodge the hand in her hair, Eloisa swung wildly with the other, attempting to land a blow.

It wasn't until they bumped into him that Nate snapped out of his stupor.

"Whoa! Hey! Enough!" he shouted. "Enough!"

He wrestled them apart, pushing Katrina back lightly as he restrained Eloisa.

"Don't touch me, Nate," Katrina hissed. "You can all go to hell."

"Are you okay, El?" he asked as he watched Katrina walk away. "What was that?"

She didn't hear him. All she could do was stare blankly up at his face.

"How did she know your name?"

Later that night, after everyone else had gone to bed, Nate told her what he knew about her dad's activities, how they had accepted bribes to turn a blind eye to what was happening in their patrol area, and his part in them. In return, Eloisa returned the beautiful ring he'd given her the year before and told him to get the fuck out of her mom's house.

"El? Did you hear me?" Nate asked. The nervousness in his voice brought her back to the present.

"Huh?"

"I asked why you didn't tell me you were short. Why didn't you ask me to help cover you?"

Because she had barely thought of him at all. Because she would rather have gone empty-handed to a meeting with drug dealers than beg him for money. Because it would have killed her to be in debt to him.

"I don't know," she sighed. "I just didn't. How well do you know these guys?"

"Not very. We used to meet with this other guy. Chango. They've all got these weird nicknames. There's one guy, No-Doze…" He snorted as though that were the most absurd part of this situation then cleared his throat when she didn't even crack a smile. "Anyway, I don't know what happened to him, but a couple of weeks before- before Ray got busted, we started meeting with Nacho. He seems okay."

Nacho at the bar, teasing her, his hands on her, popped into her head. She bit at the skin around her thumb, wishing desperately for a cigarette.

"What happened? Why would they swap?" she asked, trying to focus on Nate as her stomach churned.

"Probably because of the drugs, but I didn't know that at the time. I had no idea-"

"Pull over!" she exclaimed suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Pull over right now."

Terrified, Nate came to a hard stop, the tires kicking up a mini dust storm. Eloisa scrambled out and made it a few feet before she fell to her knees and began dry heaving. From behind her, she could hear the tinny sounds of Toby Keith twanging away about his love for America from Nate's crappy radio. She would hear that same song years later and remember the taste of dirt in her mouth and the feeling of the hard earth under her hands. When she was finished, she sat back on the ground and stared up at the vast expanse of inky sky and the thousands of stars that littered it.

She wasn't sure how long she sat like that before he placed a hand on her shoulder. She hadn't heard him approaching and the touch made her jump.

"I could have helped," he said quietly.

Part of her wanted to lash out, to utterly destroy him, but the fight went out of her when she looked at his face.

"No."

He gave her shoulder a final squeeze before walking back to the truck.

"We should go."

The rest of the ride back was silent, and it was a relief when Nate parked in front of the house.

"Do you want me to come in with you?"

"No, thanks." Her voice sounded robotic and distant, as untethered from the situation as she was beginning to feel. Somehow, she had inwardly aged ten years on the ride home.

She slammed the door and stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the little green house, the pergola covered in fragrant, knotted wisteria. It had always been a welcome sight, a beacon even amongst the eccentricity of the other houses around it, and a safe place. But now it loomed over her, the idea of being alone inside of it terrifying. Sé dónde encontrarte, Nacho said, and he did. Because she had brought him there. For a second she entertained the idea of going home with Nate. At least then she wouldn't have to be alone.

But Eloisa forced herself up the steps to the porch and let herself in. She watched from the window as Nate's truck took off into the darkness. Only then did she collapse on the couch, sobs escaping her in harsh, heaving gasps. She held onto her knees, pressing her forehead against the soft, worn denim of her jeans.

Eventually, they tapered off, reduced to sniffles. Her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket.

From Nate: Im home. If u change ur mind just call ok?