“Yo, Byron.”

I stopped, and turned from the entrance to Keliendi’s Kustom Leathers and looked around. The sidewalks were relatively uncrowded this Sunday afternoon, but that didn’t mean empty, so I didn’t eye any chummers at first, and not many others knew that name. But then I saw Omar waving from a heavily customized Ford Americar. Yea, so not a fracking ace of mine.

I walked over, hopeful at first, but then my baked brain engaged, inputting that if Patricia wanted to hook, she’d have comm’d, not sent her brother, who was obviously, and well, rightfully, no big fanboy. I mean, can’t really blame the asshole, can I?

As I walked up, he chuffed, “Get in.”

Ever hopeful, and stupid, I did. He slammed the sedan into gear and drove a couple blocks down, before pulling into one of the narrow alleys that ran everywhere through the sleezier parts of the Downtown shopping district.

He sat there for a second, before blurting, “What the fuck did ya do to my lil’ sista’?

“Huh? I haven’t seen Patricia since the night you slugged me, Omar.”

“Listen, fool, she ain’t the same.”

“What do you mean?” Totally lost now.

“Motherfucker, you going to make me say it? She’s been fucking every dick she can find back at my crib, all day long. She got suspended from work for sucking her boss. She was going to go to college before you ruined her life.” Omar was yelling by the end.

Pain ripped through me at his words. Jealousy, anger, maybe. Sadness, definite.

“You going to fix what you broke. She ain’t the same. This ain’t her.” Bitterness spewed from his tone.

“Look,” I stammered, “I’d love to help, but what exactly do you want me to do? You were both pretty clear that I was supposed to say away.”

He glared at me. Somewhere, an old trite saying about eyes like gun barrels and death ran through my head.

He pulled out a pistol and set it on the dash. Absently, I recognized it as the Ares model some of my chummers rode with. Flashing rapidly through my thoughts was the fact that I’d been shot four times this summer already, and given how it was pointed and that he took his hand off of it, I knew that I could cast faster than he could move, so no real threat, omae. But instead, I sat there with a stunned look on my face. Wow, even I could learn.

Omar glared, slightly calmer, “Look, you’re one of those mage types, right?”

Now I was really stunned, “Hmm, why would you say that?”

“I ain’t stupid. You got a job, but you got no fracking chrome, not even a datajack, you wear that pissant little comm on your wrist. How many reasons you want?”

Lie you stupid fuck, make some drek up, but, instead I just sat there, resigned, “Yea, I guess so. Not sure how that’s supposed to help.”

“Listen, fool, my sister is sick, you are going to heal her.”

I thought, having sex is not a disease, but I’m smart enough not to say it. I just shook my head, “I don’t think that’s the problem, but I’ll do anything I can to help. When do you want me to come over?”

“Look, I ain’t bringing you to my crib. Tomorrow, the family’s gathering at Riverside Park. Be there at noon. Don’t plan on leaving until you fixed what you broke.”

I sat silently for few chronos. “I’ll be there.”

“Don’t be fucking late you piece of shit. Now get the fuck out of my ride.”

I got out and watched him peel down the alley. I stood there shivering in the muggy heat of the day. It had been a beautiful day.