Prologue : Part 1

Forever My Lady
by Jeff Rivera

Dio Rodriguez grew up on the streets and knew all too well the hard, cool feeling of the barrel of a gun tucked down the back of his jeans. But his hard exterior softened when he met Jennifer. Jennifer understands Dio like no one else and makes him want to be a better man.

Suddenly a drive-by shooting lands Dio in a prison boot camp and sends Jennifer to the hospital. When Dio learns that Jennifer is pregnant, he realizes that he must find a way to turn his life around and return to his lady. But can trainee Rodriguez get his act together among the hardcases in prison? And will Jennifer be waiting for him if and when he does?

"DON'T BE STUPID, FOO'. DON'T BE A PENDEJO."

Dio looked at his homie Spooky's grip on his jacket. Most of his boys called Dio "Playboy" because all the ladies loved him, but those who had known him since he was a kid called him by his real name, Dio.

He took another hit off his joint. He'd given up smoking over a year ago, had to, but on this day he was more nervous than he had ever been in his life.

Thunder rumbled and rain poured, making it impossible to see. Thunder scared Dio, always had. Dio fought to keep from shaking. He couldn't breathe, couldn't swallow. He tried to hide his fear. His mind was set. He had to do it. Dio yanked his arm away from Spooky and pushed the door open.

"Just keep the car runnin', ése."

Spooky was a big guy, tattoos up and down his arm and a glass eye. He normally would have just kept Dio from leaving at all, but he knew nothing could stop him. Nothing at all.

Dio jumped out of the car. It was a '57 Chevy, complete with chrome wheels, slick red, with a chili-pepper-hot Mexican jaina painted across the hood. Dio had painted that picture himself. It was dope.

He slammed the door shut and looked up at the cathedral in front of him. Lightning illuminated its majestic towers, windows with an eerie stained glass. He'd spent many a night imagining this would be where he'd marry her. They'd have a huge wedding with members of their families flying in from all over the world just to watch this event, this marriage he thought was so destined to be. He'd put his everything into this dream, his one and only dream, and now as he yanked the heavy oak doors open, his heart pounded like a subwoofer.

He dried his soaked clothes with his hand and scratched his shoes on the mat so as not to squeak across the old wood floor. The church was jam-packed, mostly with Mexicans and Puerto Ricans, but some blacks.

Probably his familia, Dio thought. How could she even think about marrying some pinche negro?

The grand organ music permeated the building while a choir of children sang, their voices echoing throughout the church. It smelled musty in the air, a mix of wood stain and must as if they had never really cleaned the place, just painted over it.

He tried not to look too suspicious, slipping past everyone. Funny, he was dressed probably better than he'd ever been. Black suit, his wavy black hair slicked back, starched white shirt, polished black shoes.

Dio had grown into a very nice-looking young man. Maybe he could have even been a model, had he played his cards right. Maybe if he hadn't grown up in the slums of Northeast Vegas, he could have been one of those Latin heartthrobs who were in those magazines. Instead, most of the time he looked like the thug most people assumed he was just by looking at him.

But on this day, this very weird day, he was even wearing a tie. Jennifer would have been so proud of him if she could see him. Funny, he'd probably be the last thing she'd see.

He checked his jacket pocket to make sure it was still there. Yep, it felt like a brick pressed against his chest. But he was so numb, or more like so focused, that he was oblivious to it. All he knew was that he had to find Jennifer, and he would use any means necessary.

Wham! Dio bumped hard into a glass table. His thigh throbbed in pain as bullets dropped from his pocket and bounced off the wood floor. The sound echoed all over the lobby. People looked around for the source of the sound, but Dio managed to scoop them up before anyone could see.

He got up and noticed the beautiful ice sculpture on the table - melting, dripping like an ice-cream cone in August. Melting just like his heart.

He saw Father Mart?nez, his priest, the one he'd grown up with. It was as if the whole world had turned against him. They'd sided with Jennifer, when this was supposed to be their wedding. It was as if she'd slapped him across the face, as if nothing they'd been through together even mattered. The whole thing was surreal.

She loved him. She'd said that over and over to him since they were little kids. She'd taken care of him and believed in him and dreamed with him and held him when nobody else had cared.

"Estoy aquí para ti. No matter what - siempre," they'd promised each other. And a promise was a promise.

"Don't be stupid, foo'. Don't be a pendejo." Spooky's scolding remarks kept playing in his head. He warned Dio to just let it go. It wasn't worth it. Normally Spooky would have been all for it, but this time around he said, "Olv?dalo. . . let it go." It was as if he sensed something was going to go wrong and, no matter how high Spooky had been, his gut was always right.

Dio only hoped this time around he was wrong. He had worked so hard. He could really get a fresh new start now, "a new lease on life," as his probation officer used to say, but now he was risking it all to confront Jennifer.

Copyright © 2005, 2007 by Jeff Rivera

About the Author

Once homeless and living in his car, first-time novelist, Jeff Rivera writes passionate stories of those often forgotten and neglected by society. He believes even in the eyes of a gang member, even beneath the soiled clothes of a bag lady or behind the tears of a lonely kid in the back of the class, there lies a common thread that links us all, the universal human story. It is said, his personal mission is to help change the way the world thinks in a positive way through his stories.