No Second Chances Read Online Free Page B

to rest under. Santiago looked down his first row. It seemed a lot longer than it did a moment ago. He wondered if it was getting close to lunchtime.
    Suddenly, his cell phone started to ring in his back pocket. Santiago wondered if it was his mom. He couldn’t keep dodging her, but he also needed some time to show her he could be responsible. The caller ID said it was his cousin Chubs. Cool , he thought, pressing ANSWER.
    â€œYo man, ¿qué pasa? Where you at, man?” his cousin yelled above the bumping hip-hop music and laughter in the background.
    â€œI’m over here at Grandpa Frank’s ranch,” Santiago replied. “He’s helping me out with this business I’m starting.”
    â€œWell, tell him you got chorro or something. I’m over here at Travis’s place.”
    Santiago’s muscles tensed at the mention of Travis Salinas. He and his brother, Brandon, used to be Santiago’s buddies until a year ago. In the past, Santiago helped them sell stuff likejewelry, car radios, and other knickknacks. He never asked where they got the merchandise — he didn’t want to know.
    But then came the trailer park incident. The brothers asked him for a ride to see a friend. The Salinas brothers told him to wait around the corner of this trailer park that was popular with the winter Texans. Then he heard a woman cry out. There was a gunshot and all kinds of scared voices filled the air. When the brothers appeared with all kinds of computer equipment, Santiago wanted out. He refused to sell the merchandise or have anything else to do with them. He’d heard that they had stopped stealing and were now transporting goods from Mexico.
    â€œDude! Are you listening to me?” his cousin yelled, drawing Santiago back to the present. “I said I’ve got these two fine-looking ladies here that want to go for a ride. They’ve never been to La Villa so I offered to take them. We’re just up the street from you. I could swing by —”
    Santiago thought about all the work he had to do before Sunday’s pulga . Through the phone he could hear female voices. Someone asked if he was coming. Santiago looked over his shoulder. Frank was passed out cold and snoring loudly. Maybe he could go and come back quickly?
    â€œThese girls are getting very impatient,” Chubs pressed.
    â€œPick me up at the end of the street,” he said, lowering his voice. Santiago placed his gardening tool into the wheelbarrow. “Whatever you do, don’t honk.” He hung up and pushed the cart over to a mound of brush at the far end of the field. The blackberry bushes hid him from view so he ducked down and hurried over to hop the fence.
    He got to the end of the block just as a midnight-blue Mustang appeared over the horizon. Chubs’s head nodded to the beats banging from his car stereo. Next to him sat a pretty redhead in a cheerleading uniform. A blonde, in asimilar uniform, smiled shyly from the backseat. Santiago loved blondes — even the fake ones.
    â€œI want you to meet my cousin Santiago,” Chubs said as Santiago jumped in the backseat. The girls giggled in approval. As Santiago relaxed into the backseat a sharp pointy object poked him in the back. He shifted his weight to find a jackrabbit with antlers behind him. Chubs was an amateur taxidermist — emphasis on amateur. Every Christmas, he gave the family a stuffed animal. Sometimes it was a dog or cat he found splattered on the road. Sometimes he created his own Frankensteinlike creatures. Santiago tossed the animal on the car floor. Once Santiago was settled, Chubs slammed down on the accelerator and took off down the rocky dirt road.
    Santiago put his arm around the blonde. He caught whiffs of cinnamon and honey in her hair. “And what’s your name? Or can I just call you gorgeous?”
    The girl squirmed with delight. “My name’sAracely, but you can call me Shelly. All my