The McKays Box Set - To Kill For, Blood Sport, Hard Time, Gang Land & Killing Fields by Carella A.J

Author:Carella, A.J. [Carella, A.J.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2014-11-07T16:00:00+00:00

Three

Drake watched as the girl on the couch opposite him pushed the needle into her vein and pushed the plunger down, injecting the heroin, and tried not to let the revulsion show on his face. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as her face went slack and her eyes glassed over. Letting out a sigh, she let her head fall back until it rested on the back of the couch and stayed there, the needle still hanging out of her arm.

It was something he’d seen many times before but it still intrigued him. He’d never tried drugs, had never seen the attraction. Even as a naïve fourteen-year-old runaway, alone on the streets of LA, he’d managed to avoid being sucked into that world, somehow instinctively knowing that it would be the end of his hopes and dreams. And he did have hopes and dreams, despite where his life had led him.

The house he was in was the headquarters of the local chapter of MS-13. It had long been abandoned before they took it over and now it was used as their base of operations. Deep in the heart of their territory, they were safe here from attacks from the other gangs that roamed the city. MS-13 had taken on a life of its own since its conception in the 1980s as a way of protecting Salvadoran immigrants from the other gangs in the city. Nowadays, its tentacles had spread around the world and members were renowned for their use of violence and their strict code.

“Drake, you like her or what? Help yourself, man. She’ll never know,” a deep voice boomed from the doorway behind him.

Drake let out a short laugh. “No, man, you know I wouldn’t touch that.” He turned and smiled. Juan didn’t look at all like you would expect a gang leader to look. In fact, if you saw him on the street, you wouldn’t look twice. He was older, for a start, in his early forties, and he didn’t have the shaved head and tattoo-covered body that seemed to be the standard look for most gang members. Instead, he had a head full of dark brown hair that he wore neatly combed, and the tattoos that he did have were covered up by his clothes.

“Yeah, I know. You’re a strange one.” He chuckled and clapped Drake on the shoulder before coming to stand in front of him. “Have you seen Angel around?”

Angel was Juan’s number two, his right hand man. And Drake despised him. The feeling was mutual, though, and had been since the first time Juan had introduced them. He’d first met Juan about six months after he’d arrived in LA. In that six months, he’d toughened up, gotten street smart, but he was still a kid.

He’d been making his way to the homeless shelter early to try and get a spot when he’d seen an SUV with blacked-out windows slow down across the street and the back window lower, revealing the muzzle of a gun.

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