Surrender 01 - Surrender

cash and handed it to him. His eyes darted around the momentarily empty locker room. Someone could walk in at any minute, but his dealer was as calm as could be counting out the cash. Shouldn’t he hurry and give him the stuff before the police barged in?
    “Here you go kid. Ten cc’s three times a week.” He caught the small, black duffle bag and nodded his head toward his dealer before he walked as fast as he could out of there.

    He managed to get home before his parents got back from work, but his little sister was already home and would be a problem. If only he had a lock on the door. He moved his desk chair over to his door and shoved it under the doorknob. It would have to work. If Cindy knew he was home, she’d come running in, wanting to play or talk about the gossip going on in cheerleading camp. God, little sisters were a trial.
    He placed the duffle on his bed and slowly unzipped it. Inside were a handful of diabetic syringes and a small glass bottle with a black rubber stopper. Pulling off the orange cap on the needle, he slowly poked it through the rubber stopper and measured out ten cc’s. He dropped the bottle back into the bag and pulled down his shorts. He heard the garage door open and knew his parents were home. He had to hurry. Would he feel stronger by tomorrow? Would he be like Spiderman? He envisioned himself as the best football player in the country, shredding defenses and scoring every time the ball was in his hands. He’d be a hero.
    He grabbed the skin at his waist between his thumb and middle finger. This was it. The needle met resistance as he pressed it against his skin. It pricked, and he winced as he pushed it through his skin. His thumb pushed the plunger down, and he watched the drug that would change his life enter his body.
    “Honey! Dinner!”
    “Coming, Mom.”
    Chapter One

    Annie Blake felt the ocean breeze ruffle her sweat-drenched hair. It was Miami in August. Even being on the beach did nothing to cool her off. She hardly ever went to the beach. Who had time? But, she must admit, the sand did feel good between her toes, and the smell of the salt floating by and the feathered waves of the breeze did relax her.
    She looked over the sparkling blue water as far as she could see and took a deep breath. It was going to be a great day. She scanned the beach and saw kids playing, sunbathers in barely- there swimsuits, and a thug by one of the beach bars. He was shorter than she, probably around five six to her five seven. His black hair was pulled back into a low ponytail at the base of his neck. His body was shiny with sweat, which made his tattoos sparkle in the sunlight. His jean shorts started at his thighs and ended at his ankles. She had no idea why thugs liked this style of clothing, but it worked for her. It was hard to run with your pants falling down.
    A young boy, maybe fifteen, sauntered over to the thug with a cocky attitude. His athletic shorts fell to mid-calf as he hiked them up over plaid boxers. The thug nodded his head to the nearby ice cream cone stand. The kid and the thug walked over, got in line and started talking.
    She had been tracking this thug for weeks. He was a drug soldier for Juan Carlos’s gang. About six months ago, Annie’s team at the DEA had been notified by an ER doctor of his suspicions of a new drug being pushed to kids, a drug that caused heart attacks in young, athletic boys. Annie investigated and found all the victims were local high school football players ranging in age from fourteen to eighteen.
    Then, two weeks ago, she got a call from the same ER doctor. A kid was admitted for collapsing during a friendly football game. She rushed to the ER and interviewed the kid before he went in for heart surgery. She had been told of Diego, the friendly neighborhood drug dealer. She had tracked him to this beach as his primary place of dealing while the kids were out on summer break.
    She adjusted her dark pink sarong to make sure the small Sig 9mm Mosquito that was tucked into her pale pink bikini bottoms was hidden from view. The last thing she needed was for someone to see her walking down the beach with a gun. She pulled her long, red hair from the ponytail and shook it out. The guys told her they liked seeing long hair dancing in the breeze, so she went with it. She pushed up her breasts so they were almost spilling out of her triangle top. She was pretty sure Diego wouldn’t become suspicious of a big-breasted, beach